#actually that's an idea. i should try bribing him into going to the healers by offering to let him explode things

[winterinhimring]

@thegreenleavesofspring @scleroticstatue look at this and tell me it's not true.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Someone Else (I'm Still Right Here)

also on ao3

minor warning for Geralt coming on to Jask when he doesn't know who he is, but nothing comes from it. 

 They've hardly been in town long enough for anything to go wrong and yet, Jaskier finds his thoughts interrupted by banging on the door of their room. If it was Geralt, he would simply let himself in even if he didn't have his hands free to open the door properly, so it must be important. Jaskier rises from the bed, setting his lute aside with a sigh. He detests being interrupted while he's working for anything less than an emergency - and judging by the fact that the knock hasn't come again, this is hardly an emergency.

He saunters to the door, pulling it open to find the face of the innkeeper's wife staring back at him anxiously.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "it's your Witcher, sir. Something's happened and no one is... well, they're all afraid to get too close to him. They called in the healer from the next town, but-"

Jaskier frowns. The contract was for a pair of drowners, not even a nest of the damn things. Geralt could have taken them out in his sleep - so what went so terribly wrong?

Jaskier lets himself be led downstairs, doing his best to mask worry with intrigue, but it isn't working. The innkeeper's wife leads him to the edge of the forest where her husband is waiting, a look of pained concern on his face. Jaskier's stomach drops as the man just points into the trees, and he hurries forward without delay. If the people in town won't help Geralt, he will certainly do his best.

When he finds him, Geralt is in a bad state. His eyes are still dark from the potions - probably why the locals wouldn't come near - and there's blood streaked down the side of his face.

Jaskier stays quiet. It's bad enough that Geralt can hear his pulse racing, he doesn't need to make his fear any more obvious to him. He kneels down on the soft ground, assessing the damage before moving him. He's learned from experience that one wrong move can make a wound worse rather than better.

"Okay," he says once he's satisfied. "I'm just gonna pull this off," he taps on Geralt's left pauldron, "make sure your head is the only thing you banged up." Jaskier frowns as he says it, but Geralt seems, as usual, unconcerned. He's much better behaved than usual though, which strikes Jaskier as being particularly odd.

He ignores it and pushes through, tearing an already ripped piece of Geralt's shirt to wipe away some of the blood. Geralt will be grouchy about it later, but if Jaskier replaces it, he can't be too angry. He does his best to clean Geralt's skin and he finds just the one injury - a hefty blow to the head. Not that it seems to be bothering Geralt any.

But when Jaskier cups his jaw, tipping his head to one side, Geralt hums. It catches him off guard and Jaskier jerks back to look at him.

"Your hands feel nice," Geralt breathes and leans into the touch. Okay. So maybe the head injury is more serious than it appears. The innkeeper's wife said a healer was coming, Jaskier will mention it to them when they arrive. Or maybe it's just the blood loss. Either way, the healer will be better prepared to deal with it than he is.

"What are you doing here?" Geralt asks.

"The innkeeper's wife came to collect me. Figured someone ought to come and collect you."

"No one else would even get near me."

"Yes, well, I'm not everyone else, am I?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

Jaskier comes around to look at him, straddling his thighs and Geralt leans forward, resting his head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

"Yes yes," Jaskier hums, "I know you're tired, darling, but we have to get you up and back to town."

Geralt is reluctant, but he lets himself be hauled to his feet and doesn't even complain about Jaskier propping him up as they make their way back toward town. He's quiet, which is to be expected, but Jaskier is worried that he's keeping something from him, that he's worse off than he seems because Geralt seems quite happy to let himself be assisted - something he would regularly fight against.

As they make it back to the inn, Jaskier knows everyone is watching them and he scolds a couple of them for not offering to help when a man was injured. He takes Geralt up to their room and ducks out from under his arm, leaving him alone for a moment so he can get the fire lit and ready the bed for him. But before he can do either, he finds himself pressed up against the room door with Geralt's face mere inches from his own.

The dark veins and darker eyes are… sexier than they have any right to be and Jaskier swallows back a groan, pressing a gentle hand to Geralt's chest. The Witcher is still woozy and unsteady on his feet, but he resists being pressed back and Jaskier frowns at him.

"Mm, as much fun as this is, I doubt you'll think so highly of me in the morning, darling." Geralt smiles slyly and, for a split second, Jaskier worries that he's become Geralt's quarry, that the toxins running through Geralt's body are really as bad as he always claims they are and that he is, in fact, in real danger around him. But then Geralt leans in, bumping his nose against Jaskier's and any thoughts of fear dissipate immediately.

Instead, Jaskier ducks down and away, holding both arms out as Geralt follows him.

"Geralt," he asks, "what's gotten into you? Not that I mind, but-" he eyes him carefully and Geralt just grins at him again.

"Don't be coy with me, bard, this is what you brought me here for."

"Um. No? I brought you here to rest, to put you to bed not take you to bed, and find you something to eat. This is our room, Geralt, not my room. They only had one left and I didn't think you'd mind-"

"Our room?" Geralt interrupts and Jaskier nods. Worry creeps in and he looks closely at Geralt. His eyes are black still, though the veins are retreating and he seems brighter than usual, not so gloomy.

"Yes?"

"Why would we be sharing a room," Geralt huffs, "I've only just met you."

Jaskier gawks at him. It's not like Geralt to play games, that's Lambert's area of expertise - and this is stupid and obvious even for Lambert's tastes. But something is off about Geralt tonight. The worry turns to fear and Jaskier suddenly wonders if the man he's brought back is his Witcher at all.

He's never met a doppler, but he's heard Geralt tell stories about them. For the most part, they're harmless, but Jaskier suspects they can be paid or bribed like anyone else and the thought of a stranger here in the room with his things, with Geralt's things-

"I thought you wanted sex," maybe-Gealt says again, slightly confused but not at all dissuaded. Normally Jaskier would take it as a compliment that he was still so enthusiastic about fucking him, but this feels very, very wrong. And yet a part of him still considers it.

If it is a doppler, there's no harm really. He's consenting and Jaskier is more than happy to fuck a man with Geralt's face (he doesn't think too much about how that will affect him after it's fine). Right? But there's still a nagging feeling that this isn't a doppler. He'd know, he thinks, if he brought someone else home with him.

"Can you just-" he says, backing up toward the bed where his bag is sitting on the floor. Maybe-Geralt just watches him with confusion as he crouches down and pulls his dagger from his pack.

It's just a little thing, but it's pure silver, gifted to him by Geralt in case of emergency.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jaskier says, holding it out, "I just need you to touch this."

Maybe-Geralt gives him a questioning look but reaches out and takes the dagger from him, turning it over in his hand. Nothing happens.

"Hmm," he says, "nice weight, well made. A little decorative maybe-"

"Doesn't hurt?" Jaskier asks and maybe-Geralt, who is seeming more and more like just Geralt laughs.

"Not unless you stab someone with it."

Jaskier valiantly ignores the little smirk and shuts his eyes.

"Okay," he says, "start at the beginning, what do you remember?"

"I… woke up in the forest and then you showed up," he smiles at him and Jaskier is already preparing a refusal.

"Listen, Geralt, I am your friend and you would probably even argue that-"

"How come? You're very handsome and you've been helpful and kind-"

"But it's not like that, Geralt. It never has been. I offered once and you were… less than impressed with me." Geralt says nothing and Jaskier takes the opportunity to reign the conversation in. "Can I clean you up now? Something is obviously wrong and we have to get you to a doctor."

"They said a healer was coming."

"I was thinking of someone a little more professional," Jaskier says and Geralt gives him a look. "We have a mutual friend who may be able to help. But for now, you've got me and I'd like to take a look at that wound."

Geralt relents and Jaskier finally succeeds in getting him sat on the bed without Geralt trying to come on to him again. He pulls Geralt's hair back and ties it out of his face, it'll need to be washed later, but he's not going to try and explain how it's fine for him to wash his hair but not fuck him right now.

The wound itself it's so bad, a bit swollen, a bit bruised, but the actual gash is small and very manageable. He cleans it first with water and then with vodka and applies a good amount of salve. He doesn't know which herbs Geralt combines for a poultice, so he bypasses that for the time being; when he gets him to Shani if the wound isn't healed on its own, she'll be able to tend to it.

He finds linen wrap at the bottom of his bag and presses it to Geralt's forehead, gently wrapping it around and tying it at his temple.

"Should be good for now. I'll go down and have supper brought up. Do you want a bath?"

"No. Thank you."

"Alright. Just… stay here, I'll be back."

As soon as the bedroom door is shut, Jaskier closes his eyes, but he waits until he reaches the main floor to lean against the wall and sigh. He has no idea what he's going to do. He never thought he'd be sad to see the day Geralt tried to get him into bed, but it feels so wrong. He'd rather spend the rest of his life failing to impress Geralt than spend another five minutes with him like this.

He takes his time ordering food, half-hoping that Geralt will be asleep by the time he gets back to the room, but their supper is ready quickly and Jaskier reluctantly takes it back up to their room, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

Geralt at least spares him conversation while they eat and then Jaskier sets the dishes aside and strips out of his clothes for bed, already dreading having to share a bed. He keeps his shorts on and waits until Geralt is already in bed before climbing in after him.

The fire is burning low already, so he's not worried about it, but he blows out the candle beside the bed and pulls the blankets up over himself. He faces out into the room, preferring not to see Geralt right now. It feels weird to want to avoid him and it makes his chest ache because this is Geralt, but it's not. He just wants his Geralt back.

He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep but Geralt is cuddly like this, shifting closer and pressing up against him. He gets an arm around Jaskier's waist and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut. It's everything he thinks about during the long nights sleeping around a campfire, but he can't let himself give into it. But it feels good because it's Geralt's arm around him, Geralt's chest pressed to his back, Geralt's breath against his neck. He very nearly whines because it's so damn unfair.

But then Geralt's lips press against the back of his neck and a little gasp escapes his lips, unintentionally. He ignores it the first time, but then he does it again and when he shifts closer, Jaskier can feel the length of his cock pressing against his ass. And fuck, that's hard to turn down, but Jaskier wrenches himself out of Geralt's arms.

"I can't," he whispers, unconvincing even to himself.

"You want it, though," Geralt hums, "I can smell it on you."

"Maybe," Jaskier confesses, "but not like this. Not when you don't know who I am. Not when fucking any other person in this place would be the same for you. I can't, Geralt. Go to sleep."

Jaskier hates how disappointed Geralt sounds when he pulls away, but he doesn't try again and Jaskier almost finds himself wishing he would. He tugs the blanket a little tighter around himself and pulls his knees to his chest, trying to force back the fear that he might not get his Geralt back.

In the morning, Geralt wakes first and Jaskier is relieved to find himself alone in bed, although he worries about where Geralt has gotten to. But when he drags himself out of bed, he finds Geralt packed and ready to go with a hearty breakfast waiting for him.

"What's all this?" Jaskier asks, "trying to get away from me all of a sudden?" It comes out more bitter than he intends and he winces at the tone of his own voice.

"You were so sad, last night," Geralt says quietly. "I don't know how to fix this, how to remember you, but I thought you'd want to get started early. I had breakfast brought up." He offers a soft smile, gesturing to the food and Jaskier's heart flip-flops.

"Oh. Thank you."

"I've eaten. Take your time and we can leave when you're finished."

"Right."

Geralt just sits on the bed while Jaskier eats his breakfast and contemplates the fact that this is still his Geralt, as much as it doesn't seem like it. His own things are still ready to go and he has no idea who to go to to collect the reward for the drowners, but it couldn't have been much anyway, so he's not worried about it. Geralt won't be pleased about it when he remembers himself, but there's only so much Jaskier knows how to handle and he wants to get Geralt to Shani as quickly as possible.

They head out mid-morning, and Geralt insists on letting Jaskier ride, which is… nice, in a concerning way. Roach is equally confused and concerned, but Jaskier does his best to comfort her. Thankfully, they aren't far from Oxenfurt or Jaskier isn't sure how he would cope.

Geralt walks alongside him, happy enough apparently to let Jaskier ride. He hums as they travel, a low wonderful sound that had Jaskier's heart fluttering, but it tears him in two because the song is his which means Geralt does remember something, but he's also so sad to see him this calm and relaxed knowing his goal is to take that away from him.

For now, he won't say anything, will just let Geralt enjoy the journey. When and if they find a way to get his memory back, he'll explain everything and give Geralt the chance to decline if he wishes. The selfish part of him hopes he doesn't.

They carry on in much the same way, but even when Geralt talks, Jaskier struggles to find it in himself to be too enthusiastic about anything. He's already in a difficult spot and he just wants to get through this, whatever the outcome. But it's obvious Geralt notices and that he's trying to distract him from it.

Jaskier tries to cheer up a little, if only for him, but he finds it difficult because he knows Geralt can tell how he's really feeling. But Jaskier appreciates the effort, either way.

"Remind me where we're going?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes he hasn't told him, Geralt just trusted him not to be leading him towards certain death.

"To Oxenfurt," he says, trying to sound cheerful, "it's one of my favourite places on the continent. I have a friend who practices medicine, she should be able to help."

"You don't have to pretend for me. I know you're sad, I know you miss him. Me. I wish I could give you your friend back."

Jaskier's heart clenches and he takes a steadying breath. "I'm fine," he says, "and I can't miss him, he's you and you're right here." He feels odd, like he's talking to a child, but Geralt just smiles at him, softly but like he doesn't believe him. Jaskier wouldn't either, he's never been good at lying to Geralt.

There's a heavy silence that falls after that and for some time they continue forward unspeaking. Jaskier twitches to feel the silence, to sing or talk to something just to keep from thinking that Geralt is upset with him. Then, abruptly, Geralt speaks.

"What kind of man am I?" Jaskier doesn't even have to think to answer that.

"You're kind," he says, "more than anyone gives you credit for. You always try to take the less violent route, even though your job is to kill monsters. You're generous and loving and you care so deeply for your friends and family."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat. Because he's not included in that group. He knows Geralt must care for him, but not in the way he loves Eskel or Lambert, or even in the way his friendship with Shani or Zoltan comes so easily to him. Next to him, Geralt is silent for a moment and then.

"Jaskier are you-" Jaskier shuts his eyes, dreading whatever is coming next. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he says, forcing cheeriness into his voice, "You're my best friend."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Geralt-"

"I know I don't really know you, but I… think I love you, too."

"Geralt, don't say that," Jaskier shuts his eyes tightly, "you can't know that."

"I feel it."

Jaskier wants to scream. It's so unfair to hear those words from Geralt's mouth and know they’re not true. He pushes Roach a little quicker forward, but Geralt stops him.

Roach comes to a full stop and Jaskier grows frowns at Geralt as he comes to stand next to him. Geralt raised a hand up, cupping his jaw and guiding him downward.

"I feel like you won't hear it from me again, so I love you." He's soft, almost breathless, and when he stretches up to kiss him, Jaskier doesn't stop him.

It's just soft, no urgency, no want for something more than just a kiss and Jaskier can't help but lean into it just a little. Because those are Geralt's hands on him, Geralt's mouth against his own, soft and slow.

But Geralt moans softly against him and Jaskier remembers himself with a start. He pulls back from the Witcher, almost unseating himself, but Geralt steadies him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "I can't, it's not fair-"

"To me?" Geralt asks and there's sadness behind the humour in his voice.

"Yes."

After that, they spend the rest of the day in silence and Jaskier feels bad for Geralt - he can't imagine losing his memory and not knowing who he is - but he can't stand the fruitless hope. Because Geralt doesn't love him, he's made it known that they're not friends and how could Jaskier hope for more when he can't even attain friendship?

Then again, the man walking next to him now still is Geralt. He doesn't feel like Geralt and he doesn't act like Geralt, but he is. Jaskier isn't sure how people usually react when they lose their memories, so he doesn't have a basis to judge by, but it is still Geralt.

When they stop for the night, Geralt sleeps close enough to keep him warm but doesn't cuddle up like he did the night before and Jaskier hates himself for it. Maybe Geralt has a chance here at a new life, one where he can be happy and not weighed down by the memory of his childhood. And if he does, if he wants it, who is Jaskier to deny him that?

He's not sure he could be a part of it, though. Even thinking about him now, wishing Geralt would come a little closer, curl an arm around his middle, he feels like he's betraying his friend, betraying the old Geralt as the case may be.

Either way, he'll get Geralt to Oxenfurt so they can speak to Shani and see if there's anything that can be done. If there's not, he doesn't have to worry about making the decision to leave or stay, but if there is- If there is a chance Geralt can regain his memories, Jaskier has to let him make that choice alone and then make his own depending on what Geralt wants.

They reach Oxenfurt a few days later after what feels like a month-long journey and Jaskier is just glad to be somewhere warm where he can have his own room and not have to worry about wanting to be close. He leads them immediately to the inn and rents two separate rooms. It's fairly costly and he's reminded of the reason they needed to take the last contract, but he could be in Oxenfurt for a while depending on how this goes and he'll be able to pick up work easily enough.

Jaskier heads up to his room and makes sure Geralt gets settled, then he heads down and orders food and a bath up to Geralt's room before heading out to find Shani.

The first place he looks is the hospital, but the nurse working informs him that Shani has her own clinic now and she's located near the centre of town. Jaskier thanks her and doubles back, following the directions she'd given. Shani's clinic is tucked between two other buildings and Jaskier knocks before entering. There's no one inside but it's only a moment before Shani emerges from a back room, the neutral look on her face quickly growing into a smile. When Jaskier doesn't return the gesture she frowns.

"I take it this isn't a personal visit," she says and Jaskier can feel something inside him slip. He shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry. I- we need your help."

"Geralt?" she asks and the last bit of his self-control gives way and he chokes on a sob. "Hey," she says, "come sit down."

Shani guides him to a back room and sits him down on a plush soft, surprisingly nice for a medical clinic. She shuts and locks the door behind them and sits next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Geralt," he chokes, "hes'-" he takes a deep breath, swallowing back another sob. "Shani, he doesn't know who he is. He doesn't know who I am."

"Oh. What happened?"

"I wasn't there. I just- they came to get me because no one else would get near him. It was just supposed to be a drowner contract but he got hit in the head or something. I don't know what to do."

"Where is he now?"

"Back at the inn."

"Here?" she asks. Jaskier nods. "Why don't you take me to him, I'll take a look."

"I- I don't know if he'll want to be fixed? He came with me but Shani, he seems happy."

"Why don't we go and see him first. We'll figure out what's wrong before worrying too much, hm?" Jaskier agrees and Shani packs a bag and they head for the inn.

They find Geralt in his room, having eaten and bathed and he looks good. He's got his hair down around his shoulders and he's shirtless and Jaskier has to avert his eyes. He takes a seat in the corner and lets Shani introduce herself and asks to look him over. Jaskier stays quiet and watches cautiously as Geralt easily lets Shani look him over. Once she's finished with his body, she examines his head.

"Well," she says at last, "you obviously took a pretty hefty blow to your head, but the good news is it should be simple to reverse the memory loss."

"Good," Geralt says quickly. He spares a glance for Jaskier before turning back to Shani. "What do we have to do?"

"It's simple really, just a shock to your system should do it. I have a friend who can help."

As Shani goes into the details, Jaskier tunes out. He hears something about neurons, but he's more concerned about getting Geralt alone for a couple of minutes before he makes a decision. He loves Geralt, wants nothing more than for him to be happy, so he wants him to go into this knowing everything Jaskier can tell him.

"Can we have a moment Shani?" he asks and Geralt looks at him as Shani nods and ducks out of the room.

"You want to do it?" Jaskier asks and Geralt nods.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're happier like this," Jaskier whispers, "Geralt, I've never seen you this relaxed. In twenty years, you've always been miserable. I just- I want you to make an informed decision."

"You say you want me to be happy," Geralt says, "but since I told you I didn't know who you were you've been so sad. How is it fair for me to be happy like you say when you're still suffering." He tips Jaskier's chin up with two fingers and looks into his eyes. "What I said before, I wasn't lying. I don't know where all these feelings are coming from but I know you are so important to me."

He pulls up a smile and Jaskier knows how this is going to end. And he'll be happy to have his Geralt back, but know him like this? To know this Geralt wants him, even in some weird, imaginary way? He doesn't know how he'll be able to continue.

"Okay," Jaskier relents. "I just… wanted you to know what you were getting into."

"I'm sure it can't be all bad. I have you."

Jaskier's heart clenches, but he doesn't get another chance to speak because Shani enters the room. Thankfully, Geralt has stopped touching him, but he's still close and she gives Jaskier a look.

"I put out a call to my friend," she says, holding up a box that looks vaguely familiar. "Xenovox," she explains, "Marilla is a mage. She should be here in the morning."

It's late afternoon now, so that means spending another night at the inn and Jaskier is torn. On the one hand, he wants Geralt to be back to normal, but on the other- he's selfish and he wants Geralt like this. He wants so badly to have anything and- no. No, he can't.

Shani leaves them shortly after assuring Jaskier that it will be alright, that Geralt will be fine. He wishes these were better circumstances, that they had come to visit Shani instead of asking for her help, but she waves him off with a smile.

"Come and visit when things are back to normal," she says, "I'll see you in the morning."

Jaskier sees her off and then returns to the room to find Geralt sitting on the edge of the bed, contemplating. He's still shirtless and Jaskier finds it hard to look at him directly. He sits in the bed next to him, hands folded in his lap.

"Well," Geralt says, "we have the night. Things will be different after I get my memory back, right?" He turns, reaching out to cup Jaskier's cheek. "Be with me tonight," he breathes, "just for tonight, let me take care of you while I have the chance."

Jaskier huffs a humourless laugh. "That's the problem, you always have the chance, but you never want to take it."

"Then let me now," he hums and his hand falls to Jaskier's thigh.

And it's so tempting. Because Geralt is right here offering everything he's ever wanted, if only for a night. But this is not the Geralt he fell in love with. This is not truly his Geralt's consent. When Jaskier looks up, it's obvious that Geralt knows his answer before he even speaks.

"I'm an idiot," he says softly, "to not jump at the chance to be with you. If I don't remember tomorrow, I want you to know you're important to me." Jaskier nods weakly, but he can't find the words. "Maybe we should turn in early? We have a long day tomorrow, I think."

Jaskier nods and he lets Geralt pull him down to the bed and tonight, he lets himself be held, curls into Geralt's hold and presses his nose into his neck. He doesn't let himself think, just buries himself in Geralt's scent, so warm and familiar and shuts off his mind.

Jaskier awakes to a knock on the door and realizes he's still in his clothes from yesterday. Geralt answers the door to Shani and Marilla, and Jaskier is only just climbing out of bed when they come into the room. He gets a look from Shani, but if she's feeling any particular kind of way about finding him in Geralt's bed, she doesn't say anything.

The actual process doesn't take any time at all. Marilla comes in and does something to Geralt, what she does is unclear but he falls unconscious and Jaskier panics at first, but Shani holds him back.

"Sorry," she says, "I should have warned you."

Jaskier does his best to make Geralt comfortable in the bed and he leaves with the two women to let him sleep. He thanks Marilla desperately and asks her to stay until he wakes, but she tells him she has other business to attend to and after dipping down to kiss Shani briefly, she disappears down the stairs.

"Friend, huh?" Jaskier asks and Shani smiles at him.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Actually, can I ask you about something?"

"Of course. Why don't we get a drink, he could be out for a couple of hours."

They head down to the common area and Shani orders them a pair of drinks while Jaskier finds a table out of the way. He's never understood why Geralt likes corner tables, but right now he gets it. He doesn't want anyone to talk to him and he just wants to be able to sit and drink with Shani.

When she returns, she slides his drink across to him and slips into her seat.

"What did you want to ask about?"

"Uh," Jaskier starts, turning his mug in his hands, "when I first took Geralt back to our room, just after he was hurt. He tried to kiss me. He… thought I was bringing him back there to fuck him."

"Oh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I'm not, really. I'm surprised he acted on it, but-"

"What does that mean?"

"Geralt doesn't have any brain damage," Shani explains, "something just… got knocked loose, so to speak. He was still him, Jaskier. His thoughts, his feelings? That was all him, Jask."

"You're telling me-" abruptly, the memory of Geralt telling him he loved him comes back to him and his mouth goes dry. "You're telling me that was just him?"

"Mmhm. Without all the baggage and self-loathing."

"I don't- he can't- if he wanted me that way, I would know."

"Would you?" Shani asks, "because I think you would be the last person to know. Wait till he wakes up, talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Shani, for this and for everything."

"Happy to help."

They finish their drinks and Shani heads home. Jaskier thanks her again and promises to visit when things are better and waits until she's gone before heading back up to Geralt's room.

The first thing Geralt knows when he wakes up, is a pain in his head. He blinks awake to find himself in a bed in a nondescript inn. A better look around finds Jaskier asleep in a chair next to him, but he stirs as Geralt sits up and then he's scrambling to pass Geralt a mug of water.

He feels woozy, but Jaskier's presence soothes him; he knows from experience that Jaskier would never let anything happen to him and is willing to risk his own health and safety to assure it. There's no one else he'd rather see upon waking. But he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is taking a hit and stumbling away from the scene.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks gently. He looks up and the first thing he notices when he looks at Jaskier is how sad he is. The emotion wafts off of him, but Geralt doesn't need his heightened sense of smell to be able to tell.

"What's wrong?" he mumbles, his voice thick.

"Tell me what you remember. From the start."

Geralt thinks back, going through the events of the hunt, none of which are very interesting until he was thrown into a tree. Water hag, he remembers, chucked mud and blinded him. Then he's stumbling away, all three monsters dead and then- fuck.

His gaze snaps up to Jaskier's face, looking for any sign of recognition, but he remains eerily calm, even as Geralt recollects kissing him, pressing him up against a wall and- fuck, what was he thinking? The more he thinks about it, the more comes back to him, but in bits and pieces.

Kissing him, touching him, pressing up against him in bed. The memories are all foggy, scattered, but they feel too real to have been a dream. But Jaskier shows no signs of being assaulted by him.

"I'm-" he starts, but sorry doesn't feel like it's enough. Jaskier is open with his affections, but he wouldn't be okay with that.

Geralt tries to push himself up, to get out of bed and away from Jaskier because he can't stand the thought of doing something like that. He can't remember why he did, but the more he thinks about it, the more real it feels.

"Geralt," Jaskier says firmly, "I'm not mad. But I think we need to talk if you're up for it."

He doesn't want to talk to Jaskier. He would rather find out from someone else, he can't bear to hear the words from Jaskier. And he knows Shani was there. Shani and another woman who he didn't recognize.

"Where's Shani?" he asks.

"She's gone home, darling. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

Geralt looks up at him and he feels hopeless. Jaskier is exhausted, he can see the bags under his eyes, the dark circles. And he doesn't seem any less sad than he did initially. It doesn't take much to realize what happened.

"I'm sorry," Geralt mumbles, "about what I did- when I kissed you, I-"

Jaskier stops, already halfway toward the door and sighs deeply, stopping in his tracks before turning around.

"Okay," he says, "we're talking about this now, then." He comes back and seats himself on the end of the bed, facing him. "Tell me exactly what you remember, Geralt."

"I remember taking the contract, fighting off the drowners - and a water hag - got mud in my eyes, stumbled and something hit me, threw me into a tree. Probably one of the drowners pushed me. I took them out, started back toward town but I must have passed out, the next thing I remember is-"

"Me."

"Yeah. You took me back to our room, I thought you were- I thought you wanted sex."

"I know, you were fairly adamant about that."

"Fuck. Jaskier I'm sorry-"

"You didn't know who I was. If a handsome stranger took me back to his room, I'd think the same. When you didn't know who I was I was… terrified. I didn't know if I'd get you back." They're both silent for a moment and then Jaskier prompts him to continue.

"I remember that. I remember talking to you," he lowers his eyes, "I told you I loved you, I don't know why." Immediately Jaskier's sadness intensifies and he catches it in the twitch of his lip, the way he glances away.

"You asked if I was in love with you," Jaskier explains, "and told me you loved me. What else do you remember?"

"I remember asking you to- suggesting we- I propositioned you. And I remember being in bed- Jaskier, did we-?" He can't imagine anything worse than sleeping with Jaskier while he's not himself, than having the chance to be with him and not truly being present in the moment.

Because he certainly won't have another chance, especially not now that he's gone and muddled things up.

"No," Jaskier confirms and for the first time a small smile tugs at his lips, "not that you didn't try. But It didn't feel right. I knew when you had your memories back, you'd hate me for it and I couldn't-"

"I could never hate you," Geralt interrupts, "if anything I'd hate myself for pushing you into it."

"No," Jaskier says, shaking his head, "Geralt you don't understand. I wanted to. I wanted so badly to just say yes last night when you asked me. I tried to work it around in some way that you wouldn't hate me for taking advantage, but every time I just feel terrible to even think about it. The reason I didn't sleep with you is because I couldn't bear the thought of fucking you when it wasn't really you. Because I didn't want him, even if he was you. I wanted- I want this you."

"You do," Geralt snorts, "someone who throws himself at his friend because he doesn't remember, someone who tells him he loves him unprompted-"

"Do you think," Jaskier suggests, and it's clear by the look on his face that he's considering his words very carefully. "That maybe what you said to me and what you did- what you offered," he corrects quickly, "was because you do have feelings for me?" His voice shakes just faintly and Geralt can smell the anxiousness coming off of him.

It's cloying, overwhelming and it mingles with the scent of sadness and fear and just the faintest hint of something hopeful.

"It's just that Shani said there was nothing wrong with your mind, it was still you in there when you asked, when you said that." Jaskier looks up at him and Geralt feels years of emotion welling up inside him and he doesn't know how to hold it back any longer, not what Jaskier is asking him outright.

"Jaskier, I-" he takes a deep breath, focuses on a mark on the blanket between them. "I don't remember everything. But I did mean what I said. I do… I love you," he whispers, "I didn't want you to think less of me or," he glances up and Jaskier's eyes are shiny like he's trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"I'm not sad," Jaskier says, "Geralt, I have been following you around for half my life, caring for you, singing about you and you didn't think for maybe a moment that I could love you back?"

"You-" Geralt stumbles over his words as Jaskier's confession sinks in. "You sleep with everyone. Everyone but-"

"You don't even call me friend, Geralt. Why would I try and take you to bed with me thinking you don't care enough to call me your friend?"

"Oh."

"Oh? You didn't consider that?"

"You're not my friend," Geralt says, by way of explanation, "but you're not a lover, either. You're not a brother. Not a comrade. I don't know what you are."

"Oh."

"But you could be… a lover?" the word feels strangely heavy in his mouth and he nearly regrets saying it at all until he sees the way Jaskier's eyes light up. A smile tugs at Geralt's lips and he leans forward, reaching out to take Jaskier's hand, tentatively turning it over.

"Jaskier," he whispers, "can I kiss you?" A wide grin spreads across his face and Jaskier tips forward toward him.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."

[roonilwazlibimagines]

What are some of your scenarios to fall asleep to? 👀

Ahhhh I’m glad you asked !! Also please feel free to share some of yours they can be specific or vague idc I’m in desperate need

I will be going into heavy detail because I can’t help myself I’m sorry and I will put in both normal ones and Harry Potter ones

Also this is just like one big ramble I’m sorry I got too excited I literally turned into that Tik tok sound where it’s like ‘you’re asking me about my theories? I’ve waited years for someone to ask me about my theories’

Update - I think I’m just going to keep updating this as well when I think of new ones because I keep forgetting some

My most recent one is a royalty one where they’re like royalty but in their really prestigious and royal school they were academic rivals and did not get along and after school they like try to go their separate ways until a couple years later their parents force them into an arranged marriage for like the good of the country or whatever I don’t really care!! You can take it wherever you want from there but in case you were interested in mine he fell for her first and kinda gave up on the enemies thing pretty early on but she still made it clear he wasn’t her favourite person and she despised the situation and there is still constant teasing until she meets his sister or friend or whoever who says that they can’t believe how happy he is with them and she feels so bad because she thinks he deserves better and ends up being much meaner to him because she’s an idiot who can’t express her emotions and he gets angry at her because she’s being super mean after they were just starting to get along and they have a big argument and are forced to talk about their feelings and then I can never decide whether they actually like each other when they get married, I feel like either way is fun

I have a thing for royalty so my other one is literally just princess x stable boy and you can honestly take that wherever you want but I will tell you where I took it for some ✨inspiration✨ so I don’t have my drivers license and get really bad driving anxiety so I self projected and made her terrified of riding horses right (I’m so smart I know) and he is like trying to help her ride the horse and feel comfortable and like obviously they end up in love but I created drama because she sneaks out to his birthday party (!!) but his friends don’t like her because they just think she’ll be a snob but he obviously defends her but like it’s a perfect opportunity for a bit of an innocent princess as well

My personal favourite is the two co stars falling in love and like thinking about doing all those stupid interviews from like buzzfeed and all that and I personally love the trying foods from different places thing (like making them try fairy bread - because I’m from Australia and we aren’t that cultured and being mad when they don’t like it because it is my favourite food) and it’s great because i can make the guy any actor I am currently obsessed with 😭 but also like the red carpet opportunities and interviews and fan reactions and it’s very fun also this keeps my brain very busy because I like making it as realistic as possible and figuring out the actors timeline so I can match the story up with it, it’s always really intense, also if you want inspiration for what moving they’re staring in I always go for the live action version of tangled even if I don’t look anything like rapunzel

Another fun one is where one of them is in a band and you have a friend who is dating one of the other members but you don’t like the band and you’re not shy in letting the other members know that and it turns into an enemies to lovers thing but I haven’t really developed it because halfway through I ended up changing it with the fact that they befriend one of the members and like fall for them but the band member like ‘gets around’ and it makes them jealous until they drunkingly confess it made them jealous this one’s a bit of a mess and is tipping into a 2012 wattpad story but it was how I got back into my 5sos phase two years ago because I felt icky about them but I’m still a slut for Calum 😭

Another one I love is moving abroad to study or whatever (idk I just always need a reason to be in America/Uk because there’s no one here in australia) and you make friends with someone who turns out to be related to someone really famous (insert whoever you want) and you meet them and you think they’re the hottest person you’ve ever seen and you get drunk to gain confidence to talk to them and you’re like unashamedly flirting with them and they think it’s cute and you’re funny but the whole little plot twist is that you don’t know they’re famous (famous people love that, trust me, I have about 10 wattpad stories in my library that can prove this) !! And the don’t believe you don’t know they’re famous !! Anyways I took it in a sugar daddy direction but each to their own!

Specifically for Harry Potter though, you ask?

Currently I am obsessed with Regulus Black and for about the past two weeks I’ve been obsessed with the idea of James potter sibling x regulus black enemies to lovers story and then about a week ago I found an actually good wattpad story about it?!?! (I have recommended it here with warnings but I really encourage you to read it if you’re not a minor) but you can also do your own version because I am still doing my own version and will continue to do my own version tonight even if I am obsessed with the wattpad one !! Currently I am up to post Hogwarts and her and regulus are trying to defeat Voldemort and regulus tells her that Peter is going to betray James and so ofc she tells James but James is like ‘how to do you even know this??’ And he is so afraid and gets angry at her and it’s really dramatic and she tells him she’s dating regulus and then he gets super mad at her because she’s dating like one of the most well known and loyal death eaters (even if regulus is sneakily trying to destroy Voldemort) and because he didn’t tell her and it’s very dramatic

My favourite Sirius black idea is also a James potters sibling one, but I never have any good ideas for it and just end up self projecting so if anyone has any ideas, I am begging you, please tell me !!!

My other Sirius black one is one I’ve been working on for like the last 4 years of my life and I probably should write it but who knows, but basically it’s a 10 things I hate about you x Harry Potter story where reader is about a year or so older than the marauders and she is like Kat Stratford (for people who haven’t watched it the best way to describe her is just an angry early 2000s feminist who is like anti dating and fun (kinda)) but she is Lily Evans sister!! And so Lily gets fed up of James constantly asking her out and makes an offhand comment that she’ll date him when her sister goes on a date with someone and James is like really?!? And Lily is like ‘sure’ because she knows her sister will never date anyone at Hogwarts so James tells the marauders and Remus is like ‘if anyone can take her on a date, it’s Sirius’ and Sirius is like ‘no, I’m stupid but not that stupid’ and James is like ‘please I’ll pay you’ and Sirius is easily bribed so he tries to get her to go on a date with him and like she doesn’t until she does and then finds out he only did it because James paid him but then they fall in love? Basically just 10 things I hate about you lol

My next one is with Draco Malfoy and all it is is that reader comes from a pure blood family and they’ve known each other since they were babies and it’s like basically destined they get married but she gets like really upset when he gets the mark which makes for a good cuddling and crying scene and like idk people are probably more creative than me but I just like reimagining scenes from hp but with this new character so like Poa when she gets angry at him about buckbeak or the bathroom scene (maybe she duels Harry?) and she’s so upset about Draco and comforts him, or helping him in sixth year and comforting him or the quidditch scene in the fifth book (weird note, but I’ve always headcannoned that my original character finds out about dumbledores army but doesn’t say anything and like the da knows she knows but she doesn’t tell Draco or maybe Draco finds out and gets angry at her?)

My other one is another Draco malfoy one where James and Lily live and she’s Harry’s younger sister (and Voldemort isn’t a thing) but like there’s still stereotypes and beliefs and such and like it’s obviously enemies to lovers and maybe they get prefect duties together ? (I am a sucker for this trope in Harry Potter) but then when they do date they try to hide it but Harry finds out but doesn’t say anything until they get into a fight at home and he is like ‘well at least I’m not fucking Draco malfoy behind everyone’s back) (in my head they aren’t fucking because they’re still in Hogwarts but you get the idea) and James and Lily are just like ‘WHAT?!’ Like idk I just think it’s funny imagining James and Lily finding out their kid is dating Draco and Lucius and narcissus finding out Draco is dating a potter - so many possibilities!

Update 6.10.21

I also have one for Charlie Weasley !! And basically you’re friends with the twins and like you go your whole Hogwarts life with the biggest crush on Charlie but like he low key doesn’t even know who you are and you want to become a healer and then after Hogwarts there is a position in Romania and you take it because you know Charlie’s there and at first he is like hmmm I think I know you and you explain you’re friends with the twins and obviously he falls in love with you I also took it in a nsfw direction where it’s like major innocence kink because Charlie is just such a dom to me and he like teaches you everything but he makes sure you’re happy and safe and it’s not really like serious sex you’re both just having fun and he kinda introduces you to dom/sub dynamics but you can do whatever is most comfortable

[ghostlywritten]

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Two

James Potter x OC

Words: 2,6k

Prologue Chapter One

"Get up, it's Hogsmeade time!" Marlene shouted and I felt something soft hit the back of my head.

"Nrnngh," I grumbled, snuggling my face further into my pillow. "Come on, we only have this day and we have to eat breakfast, too!"

"Fine," I sighed, rolling off the bed.

"So, what's the plan for today?" I asked as we trudged down the hill towards the village after we handed in our permission slips to Filch.

"I need to go to the Hairdressing Salon for a new haircut," Marlene announced, tightening the scarf around her neck as a rather cool breeze drifted around us.

Groaning, I held her back by the elbow, "Are we going to spend all day in a salon? That's a total waste!"

"Oi, taking care of my hair is not a waste. And maybe you two should get a haircut, too," Marlene pointed out, causing Lily and I to splutter in protest.

"Excuse me, why do I need a haircut?" Lily asked, reaching up to touch her hair.

"It's way too long and unpractical, you always need hours for a Straightening Charm to work," the dark-haired girl explained matter-of-factly, "And yours, dear Cecily, is way too long and asymmetrical. It's as if you are cutting your hair yourself."

I kept quiet, wondering how she had figured that out as I touched my straight, light-brown hair a bit self-consciously. "Whatever, I don't want to spend all day in a hair salon," I said defiantly, "Besides, I need to get to Honeydukes to get all kinds of candy."

"What for?"

"For myself mostly…and for Madam Pomfrey." My two dear friends both came to an abrupt halt.

"You are trying to bribe her?" Lily laughed and I gave her a shrug, "What else can I do?" They just shook their head, "What do you think would be her taste?"

"Cec, you are going to Honeydukes. You won't find anything that will not be to anyone's taste," Lily stated, and I had to agree.

"The shop is across the hair salon," Marlene informed as we reached the village, "You go to there and I will get my hair done in under an hour. Promise!"

"Fine. And we go to the Three Broomsticks after?"

"Deal."

We parted ways with Marlene, Lily deciding to roam around Honeydukes with me to avoid sitting in the salon and possibly getting a hair cut without wanting to.

The bell jingled as I opened the wooden door and I took in the scent of mixed sweets, "Ah, I'm in heaven."

"Agreed," Lily said with a smile. I looked around the many rows of chocolate, gummies and other kinds of teeth-rotting sweets. "Now that I think about it, a Healer would probably not like unhealthy food like this, would they?"

"Please, she is not a dentist. No one can resist these goodies," Lily said, devouring a toffee with a satisfied hum as she handed me one, "Definitely not."

I resolved to pick up a bit of each sweet, resulting in a steadily growing package. Lily's eyes went wide, "Are you serious?"

"No, I'm Sirius," the black-haired boy popped up from behind us out of nowhere, causing us to shriek.

"Bloody Hell, Black! I almost dropped my bag!" I cursed, adjusting my grip on the sweets. Sirius raised his eyebrow as he took a peek inside, "Is this the aftermath of a break-up?"

'I wish,' I thought, shaking my head wordlessly whilst the other three Marauders came up, each with a smaller bag of their own in their hands.

"Hm? The time of the month then?" Remus blanched upon hearing his words whilst James and Peter laughed quietly. "Sirius!"

"What? I'm just wondering why she is buying so many sweets just for herself."

"It's not for myself. It's to bribe someone," I said deftly before moving further down the lane to inspect the other sweets.

"You need to bribe someone?" James asked, following me – or rather Lily, who had left with an eyeroll and was staying a few feet away.

"Yep, for a favour."

"Excuse me but I think you will have other possibilities to…persuade someone," James said suggestively (and loudly) and I had almost dropped the bag again.

"Um, what?" I muttered, turning around to face him only to lean back in surprise upon seeing how close he was. He smirked and it looked kind of…off. My eyes flickered towards his friends, who were suspiciously occupied with whatever was in front of them. "Well…in this case it's an old lady, who will probably be more responsive to chocolate than whatever you are suggesting."

"You know exactly what I'm suggesting." I tried to ignore how red my face must have been at this point until he chuckled, scratching the back of his head, "I'm just messing with you, Grant."

I breathed out, slapping his arm and turning away, "Good." Too bad.

"Now, who is the old lady and what favour do you need? Are you trying to bribe McG for a better grade?"

"You say that as if that would actually be possible."

"Touché," James mused, watching me pick some Chocolate Cauldrons as he munched on a toffee, "Who is it then?"

"Madam Pomfrey," I said, seeing no harm in telling him, "For an internship at the Hospital Wing." A choking sound made me turn around towards him, "You alright there, James?"

"Y-yeah," he said, hitting his chest with his fist a few times before he managed to swallow the rest of the sweet, "You-you want to work at the Hospital Wing?"

"Yep. I could use the internship for future applications as a Healer," I explained, shifting the bag on my arm as the other ached, figuring it would be enough for now.

"Um, is that possible?" James wondered, his face unusually pale as he looked back towards his friends, "I didn't know that."

"Yeah, it is possible. My parents were interns during their time here. But ever since First Year, Madam Pomfrey hasn't recruited anyone."

"Is that so?"

"It's so weird, really," I said mindlessly, munching on a Chocolate Frog, "But I'm gonna try anyway."

"Well, good luck with that," James replied with a high-pitched laugh and I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, "You sure you are alright there?"

"Yes!" the messy-haired boy said quickly before clearing his throat, "And if you want to convince her to take you in, you should add another of the Pixie Puffs. Those are her favourites."

"How do you know that?"

"I have my ways," James winked, dropping a puff into my bag before grabbing it from me, "Come on, I will carry it for you."

"Um, thanks?" I asked more than stated, following him towards the cashier.

"You are very welcome. Hello Evans," James greeted Lily politely, who was waiting for me at cash desk with raised eyebrows.

"Hello…Potter," she said slowly, widening her eyes at me when he had his back turned towards us, standing in the line. 'What's going on?' she mouthed.

'No freaking idea,' I mouthed back before neutralising my expression as the boy with round glasses turned back, "Have you been to the Three Broomsticks, yet?"

"Nope. Later, though first I apparently need a haircut," I answered, sharing a look with Lily.

"Why is that? Your hair is pretty the way it is," James commented, leaning close once again.

"I said 'apparently', Potter," I told him, leaning back once again before gesturing him to move as the line cleared and I was up to pay.

"Good, you don't need it."

"My thoughts exactly!"

James laughed and Lily cleared her throat, catching our attention, "I'm gonna head out and see if Marlene is done. Would you reserve a table at the pub?" I nodded in agreement and she left, not without another look at James. I noticed him watch after her as soon as her back was turned at him, wondering about his weird behaviour.

He stayed quiet whilst I paid for the sweets before handing me the bag. "Well, I'm off to the Shrieking Shack. See ya!" And he left with his friends. Well, that was abrupt.

The next week consisted of classes, me begging Madam Pomfrey for an internship with a new bag of sweets everyday and James somehow hanging around me outside of class and Quidditch practice. It started with him joining me on study sessions in the library and sitting next to me during breakfast, lunch and dinner or asking to sit with him at the fireplace in the Common Room like right now.

I was trudging through the portrait hole with yet another miserable pout as James called out to me loudly, "Grant, come over!"

"Hey James," I sighed as I plopped down on an armchair next to the loveseat he was sprawled all over. He pouted playfully, "I wanted you to sit next to me."

"How?" I asked, trying to gulp inconspicuously at the lazy smile on his face, "Your limbs are in the way."

"There is more than enough space all over me," he said, gesturing towards his body.

I blushed deeply, causing his grin to widen, and cleared my throat. "Honestly, James. What's up with you lately?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been acting weird, lately," I pondered and watched him shift uncomfortably, "Spending a lot of time with me when we have never talked outside of class and Quidditch before."

"What is weird about trying to get closer to a Quidditch member? It raises the team spirit," James retorted.

"Raise the team spirit?" I repeated with a raised eyebrow, "We have more than enough team spirit. And I don't see you spending that much time around the other members."

"I have priorities," James said.

"What priorities?"

"You, for one," he replied with a grin.

"…Me?"

"Yeah, you," James sat up, leaning forward on his knees, "You are close to becoming Chaser No. 1."

"What do you mean?" I wondered.

"Angie is going to quit after winter break."

"What?"

"Yes," the brown-eyed boy sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair, "She wants to concentrate on her N.E.W.T.s, so she is leaving the team."

"Who is going to be her substitute?"

"Archie Stan."

"Oh, hell no."

"Oh, hell yes."

"James, Archie and I don't get along," I hissed quietly, "We can't play together."

"You will have to. We will integrate him into Team A practice from the next session on," James explained and smiled at my frown, "Come on. It's not going to be so bad. You could try to get along with him."

"It's not my fault. He is the one, who has a problem with me," I complained, crossing my arms, "Trust me, I doubt we are going to harmonise."

"You will, don't worry," James reassured me, placing a hand on my knee. I stilled at his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm through the leggings I was wearing, "I'm the Captain. And as a Captain, I'm also the designated mediator of the team."

"We are doomed then," I said dryly and he gave me a look, causing me to giggle.

"You meanie," he flicked my knee before leaning back against the couch. We talked more about Quidditch, the current league and discussing, which team would win this year until it was well past midnight.

I went to bed that night with a giddy feeling in my chest and I went to bed with a giddy feeling for the next few weeks as the evening talks became somewhat a ritual between James and me. We would talk about mindless things such as Quidditch, classes and even the meaning of life.

This night, I was a bit late after another visit at the Hospital Wing. I had received a letter of my parents today, expressing their disappointment in me not having started that internship, yet. And of course, I got rejected again by Pomfrey again.

"Hey, what's with the long face?" James asked as I arrived in the Common Room.

I merely groaned, dropping face first onto the loveseat. "So, Madam Pomfrey has rejected you once more?" James asked and I groaned again. "Thought so," James added and I merely grumbled.

"I just don't get why she won't take any interns in," I moaned, turning on my back, "She is so busy, I always see more than ten students every day, she obviously needs help."

"Well, maybe that's exactly why. She probably doesn't have the time to instruct someone when she has so much to do."

"I don't need much instructing…" I said and he gave me a look, "What, you know it!"

"True," he said with a wide smile, causing me to return it. He took my hand in his, squeezing it slightly, "Don't worry. I'm sure she will come around soon."

"Maybe…"

"Did she take the bag of sweets again?"

"Of course, she did."

"Dang it, I was looking forward to some Chocolate Balls." I laughed before reaching into my pocket and throwing a ball at him. With his Seeker's instincts he was able to catch it on time before it hit his face, shooting me a mock reprimanding look before unwrapping the sweet. "Are you gonna try again tomorrow?"

"Yeah…but I don't even know why I bother," I sighed, "It's not like I even want an internship that much."

"Then why do you?"

"My parents want me to."

James raised an eyebrow. "They are both Healers."

"Ah, and they want you to become one, too."

"Yep."

"…And what do you want?" he asked quietly, leaning on his knees.

Sighing heavily, I said, "I just want to play for the Montrose Magpies."

"Oh, it's good they are trying to force you to become a Healer then."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just joking," James laughed, standing up to sit on the carpet in front of me, "You should pursue that possibility though."

"Oh please. The Montrose Magpies are one of the biggest teams in English league- no, you can't convince me otherwise!" I said as he opened his mouth to protest, "They would never take someone from a school's team."

"Of course, they wouldn't," he agreed, grinning when I pouted, "But you can start with a smaller team. You know, recruiters always come to watch the second leg of the Quidditch games at spring every year. You might catch someone's eye."

"They only look for Seventh Years," I pointed out.

"Well, obviously they don't want to be responsible for students dropping out of school," James said with a 'duh' tone, "But it's a possibility for next year.

And whilst waiting for that you can continue trying for that internship."

"You mean pursue both careers?"

"Exactly. Why do you make a choice now what to do in the future when you don't have to, yet?" James reasoned, "You should open as many doors for you as you can and then make a choice when you have to." I stared at the boy in front of me, watching the light of the fire flicker over his face. I had never found anyone as attractive as him in that moment.

"James, that's the smartest thing anyone has ever said to me and Professor Dumbledore has taught us for one class when McGonagall was sick for a week." The dark-haired boy threw his head back, laughing and I was almost mesmerised by the twinkle in his chocolate brown eyes. I shook my head slightly, looking away for a second before I gave him a warm smile, "Thank you, James."

He nodded, waving his hand dismissively, "Don't mention it."

"I'm serious- don't go there," I warned him as he tried to jump on the pun, "That was a really good advice. Where did that even come from?"

James shrugged with an almost shy look, "My dad is pretty cool, I guess." I laughed. "He told me somewhat the same when I was telling him that I couldn't choose between Quidditch and Auror training."

"Your dad is a wise man."

"He sure is." I smiled, later wondering how long we had sat that night simply staring at each other.

Chapter Three

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Hello! Can I request hcs for your top 5 favorite characters when they find out their fem s/o vapes/smokes? Have a nice day~💕

I loved writing these ngl. Also I did six because I have no idea how to choose between these guys. 

Characters: Leona, Ruggie, Floyd, Kalim, Idia, Malleus

Warnings: smoking&vaping, overdramatic teenage boys (leona isn’t a teenager, does malleus count?)

Leona:

He didn’t peg you to be that kind of person, but there was no doubt that you were vaping

He had smelled the weed on you a few times but didn’t comment. It was common for there to be clouds of vape in the bathrooms at school so he figured you had just walked through one

At first he wouldn’t comment, but he would watch you do it and keep track of how many times you took a hit and how frequently you pulled your pen out during the day

If he felt like there was nothing serious to worry about then he might let it fly a few times only commenting on how he hated the smell to try and persuade you to do it less often

If he was concerned about the amount of vaping you did, he would probably just steal all your stuff at first to see if you would stop

If that didn’t work then he would confront you about it asking why you started and how long you’ve been doing it

It’s unlikely that he’ll be super upset about it but he will ask you to stop and provide you with other solutions if needed

He prefers the you that isn’t higher than the clouds

After learning more about vaping and the fact that by inhaling toxic metals you could potentially die then he would put up more of a fight

If it got to the point where he was really concerned he might take you to a rehab center just so they could get you to stop (even if you weren’t addicted)

Ruggie:

Wait what?! You smoke!!!

He stares in shock as you pull the cigarette away from your mouth and blow out a large puff of smoke

No no no no no no no no!!!!!!!!!

Already running up to you and snatching the cigarette out of your hands

“Ruggie!”

Absolutely not. He’s seen enough people in the slums turn to smoking or that might even be the reason they were in the slums to begin with. 

He knows the cost. He has seen people die, or get violently sick, or run out of money because they smoke

It is not something he’s gonna watch you go through

Probably gonna yell at you about how awful this is for you before finding all your cigarettes and soaking them before chopping them into little pieces and throwing them away

He’s got a great sense of smell so if he smells nicotine on you again he would get really upset

Ruggie cares about you a lot but would still most definitely threaten you to get you to stop

If he threatens to end your relationship to that means he’s certainly worried about your health

He doesn’t care how you started in the first place he justs wants you to stop

Would totally beg Leona to pay for rehab

Would also totally drag you there

Floyd:

Eh? What’s little shrimpy doing?

Has zero clue what a vape is or how it works, but it looks fun let him try it too

You’re probably hesitant cause he doesn’t know what it is and if Azul and Jade found out they might get mad

He’s gonna try it anyways

Literally has no idea how to use it and probably ends up inhaling his own spit instead

He wants to know how you make clouds with your breath though, and oh! You can make it into shapes!

Definitely gonna ask Azul and his big brother about it

They casually explain what vaping is and what it does. They also tell him that it’s bad for you and he shouldn’t try it

“Huh? But little shrimpy does it all the time?”

Que a further explanation and advice on how to help you stop

He’s gonna pest you about it all the time now

“You didn’t swallow any clouds again today did you?”

“No Floyd I didn’t swallow any clouds”

It’s very easy for him to get you to stop since he’ll just squeeze you everytime he catches you doing it

And when he finds your pen he will pick it up and throw it away

Has he seen your vape? Of course not. Why would Floyd know where your cloud machine went?

Every time you get sick he accuses you of vaping too much

“You wouldn’t be stuck in bed all day if you hadn’t swallowed so many clouds, shrimpy.”

Kalim:

Immediate panic

“JAMIL!!!!!”

Literally Jamil does not have time for this

Tells him to calm down and just ask you about it

Ok yeah. Kalim can do that. He’s calm

He’s not calm

Forgets to ask you about it and instead asks if you wanna go for a ride

Legit takes you to a rehab center and cries at the front desk about you for like 40 min

The people ask you a few questions and determine that no you’re not addicted and tell Kalim that everything is gonna be fine

You are literally so confused right now

When you guys get home he can’t stop asking questions and telling you that it’s bad to smoke

Will bribe you to get you to stop

“I’ll buy you whatever you want just don’t do that”

Literally 100x more panicked than any other normal person

“BUT WHAT IF YOU DIE!!!!!!”

Doesn’t want to leave your side in case you do it again when he’s not looking

Jamil is 200% done with the dramatics

“Listen if you don’t stop I’ll actually poison your food. I have a hard enough time dealing with Kalim when he isn’t freaking out.”

Between the two of them it would just be easier to stop

Kalim will throw you a party for stopping

He’s so proud of you

“Baby you make me so proud!”

“Kalim she’s not your daughter *sigh*” - Jamil

“WHAT IF OUR DAUGHTER SMOKES!!!”

Hold up since when did he decide that-

Never mind 

Kalim is just a big drama baby and you love him for it

Idia:

Probably doesn’t really know what to think about it

On one hand you’re old enough to make your own decisions

On the other hand your decision making skills are obviously not great

Literally spend the next month trying to decide what to do about it

Makes a pros and cons visual board for confronting you about it

Also writes up a list of reactions to his confrontation

Probably also writes up like 17 different scripts all in a choose your own ending type format to include how to deal with every reaction

Ngl he panics a lot cause he knows that vaping is bad but after finding out you do it he can’t stop watching these really concerning youtube videos about how people’s lives turned into a total complete disaster because of vaping

He becomes a nervous wreck every time you smell like weed

Always has you count to ten when he sees you

Likely has visions of you in the hospital or homeless on the street wheezing about how you wished someone had stopped you 

Either you’re gonna catch on and ask him about it, initiating the conversation or he’s gonna have Ortho do it

He’s worried you will leave him for not being supportive

Literally asks you if you’re gonna leave him for this

Obviously you won’t so when you confirm that you’re staying he melts into a puddle and just cries

Highkey he looks more like one of those crazy people from the videos than you

“But Idia you’re addicted to video games and sugar. People say that’s as bad as cocaine”

Figures out that sugar releases the same chemical in your brain as cocaine

“What if you just ate a bunch of candy with me instead? We can be sugar addicts together.” (Idia I’d love to but no amount of candy is worth a break out)

Fine fine fine you’ll stop (but only cause he literally looks like he’s having withdrawals just from worrying about you) it’s ironic

Malleus:

Most dramatic by far

WHY WOULD A FRAGILE HUMAN PURPOSELY PUT THEIR HEALTH AT RISK

Ngl has zero clue what’s going on until Lilia points it out

“Huh doesn’t smoking kill humans?”

*blink* *blink*

Smoking does what to a human

“DARLING!!!!”

Seriously thinks that your going to die any minute now

Que the mental breakdown

Calls all the best healers and puts you on bed rest

“Darling I know we’re gonna get through this. Just keep fighting”

Ummm… you have no idea what’s happening

He just kidnapped you from class and put you in a Diasomnia room and started weeping like you were dying

Lowkey he already started looking at ways to preserve your body as long as possible

Also looks at coffins and tombstones

Highkey plans to buy you a large plot of land that looks over the pretty stuff in the valley of thorns

Why? you ask.

Because obviously you deserve a whole cemetery to yourself

“Malleus I’m not gonna-”

“Shhh don’t speak. You’ll only make it harder to heal”

Lilia walks in and finds this

Probably thinks this is super sweet and totally wants to leave you guys like this

But doesn’t want Malleus to suffer and you to be held on house arrest for no reason

“She’s not dying Malleus”

What? Ooooooohhhh… oops

He gets embarrassed af

Has to call back all the people he hired to prepare for your death

“Um hi there. Turns out I don’t need that jewel encrusted coffin. No no the pyramid should still be built, humans have short life spans.”

“MALLEUS!!!!”

He is so grateful you’re not dying

But would totally get pissed if you decided to smoke again

Guess that’s the end of that

[buoyantsaturn]

arrival to eeby deeby (1/1)

thank u @gayleafpool for the title

summary: Rachel gave Nico a push toward Will. “Make him shut up.” 

Will frowned, because Nico definitely wasn’t making any noise, so he didn’t see what the problem was. 

Then, it happened.

word count: 1790

read on ao3

Will was laying in a sunny patch of grass outside the infirmary. It was one of those rare moments when he didn’t have any patients and actually got to relax for once while all of his siblings were off at one of their activities. 

He was debating heading back inside to find the community iPod that had been left behind a few years ago that all the children of Apollo had decided to share, when something suddenly blocked his sunlight. Will opened his eyes to find Rachel and Nico standing over him, both looking grumpier than they had when Will last saw them a few hours ago. 

Will propped himself up on his elbows and asked, “What’s up?” 

Rachel gave Nico a push toward Will. “Make him shut up.” 

Will frowned, because Nico definitely wasn’t making any noise, so he didn’t see what the problem was. 

Then, it happened.

Nico squeaked. 

His shoulders jumped with the sound, and his face burned red. 

“Oh my gods,” Will said, pushing himself up further until he was sitting in the grass. “That was adorable.”

“It’s not,” Nico and Rachel argued at the same time. 

“It’s torture!” Nico complained, and hiccuped again.

“He’s driving me crazy!” Rachel added. “I let him hang out because I wanted some quiet company while I painted, but he won’t stop hiccuping!” 

Will picked himself up off the ground and brushed off his shorts. “How long has this been going on for?” 

Nico shrugged, or maybe his shoulders just shook again from the force of another hiccup. 

“At least an hour,” Rachel answered for him. “I just couldn’t stand it anymore, and I mean, this is a medical issue, isn’t it? Can you fix this?” 

“Um.” Nico squeaked pitifully, and his arms tightened across his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure I can figure something out,” Will told her. 

Rachel nodded her head once. “Great. I’m gonna try to go finish the painting I was working on, but I’ll meet up with you guys sometime later, okay? After Squeaky over here stops squeaking.” 

“Don’t call me Squeaky!” Nico shouted, and then released the loudest, highest-pitched unrestrained hiccup that caused Nico to snap his jaw shut and slap a hand over his mouth. As his face grew to an even brighter shade of red, Will had to force himself not to laugh.

“Alright, I’ll take care of it,” Will assured them both as he held a hand out for Nico to take. “See you, Rachel.” 

Will led Nico up the steps to the Big House and into the separate infirmary door, taking him over to one of the empty cots. As Nico sat down, Will pulled over a stool and sat in front of him. “So, what were you doing when the hiccups started?” Will asked.

Nico shrugged, seeming unwilling to open his mouth lest another massive hiccup escape.

“You’re gonna have to talk sooner or later,” Will told him, but Nico simply shook his head in response. He hiccuped quietly, and glared down at his lap. “Okay, so, you know how Star Wars takes place a long time ago in a galaxy far away? But then Star Trek takes place in the future, so--”

Nico groaned, cutting him off. “Gods, Will, not again.” 

Will grinned. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“I don’t want to talk because the big loud ones are starting to hurt--” Nico’s jaw snapped shut again, and he winced with his next hiccup.

“Do you want to write, instead?” Will suggested, and Nico thought about it for a second before shaking his head. That was probably for the best, since neither of them could read or write very well due to their dyslexia. Will hummed. “You could try signing, but I’m a little rusty, so you’d have to go slow.” 

Nico’s chin dipped down as he squeaked again, and Will grinned. “Was that a yes, or a hiccup?” 

Nico glared. 

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Will said. “Okay, so, what were you doing when the hiccups started?” 

Nico shrugged. He held up one hand, his palm facing toward him, and raised two fingers on his other hand, pointing at his palm from fingertip to wrist. 

Will frowned as he thought. “Reading?” Nico nodded. “You weren’t eating or drinking?”

Nico shook his head, then his hands were moving rapidly, switching from fingerspelling to signing. Rachel was painting. I was reading.

“I thought she said you were keeping her company,” Will remembered. “How were you keeping her company if you were both ignoring each other?” 

Nico rolled his eyes in response, which Will took to mean, you wouldn’t get it. 

“Okay, what have you tried to get rid of your hiccups?” Will asked.

Nico mimed drinking from a glass, then took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks. Drinking water and holding his breath, Will guessed, which were the first cures on his own mental list. He poked at Nico’s cheek like he was popping a bubble, and Nico’s cheeks deflated. “Okay, I might have to ask around for some other ideas, then, because I only have so many. Have you tried, um...not thinking about it?” 

Nico stared at him blankly.

“Yeah, okay, stupid idea,” Will replied. He got to his feet and Nico followed him with his eyes. “Alright, I think I heard once that you should lay upside down to get rid of hiccups, so… Try that.” 

Nico frowned in confusion and started to lay on the cot with his feet by the pillow and his head at the foot of the bed.

“No, sorry, like this,” Will said, and sat down on the next cot over. He hooked his knees around the edge of the bed and laid across it with his head hanging over the other side. After a few seconds, Nico mirrored his position, and Will snorted. “Your hair looks funny.” He righted himself and observed Nico for a few moments, during which Nico hiccuped three times.

Nico glared at him as if to say, this isn’t working.

“Just hang on for a few more minutes, you little vampire bat. I’m gonna see if that ancient computer in the Big House will load Google.” 

Will left Nico laying there to run into the Big House, and after a short eternity, he managed to load a webpage with supposed hiccup cures. He jotted down a quick list of the most plausible ideas before returning to the infirmary, where Nico was sitting up on the cot.

“Why’d you get up?” Will asked. “I know it wasn’t working, but none of these are gonna work immediately.”

Nico uncrossed his arms and held his hands over his stomach, his index fingers pointing at each other. Hurt. That was a sign Will was definitely familiar with. 

“Oh. Sorry,” Will said, joining him on the cot. “Hopefully one of these will work, then. I ignored anything that mentioned scaring, because neither of us need an accidental panic attack or stabbing today.”

Nico nodded in agreement. 

“Okay, let’s get started.” 

After an hour, they’d exhausted Will’s list. Nico had tried breathing into a paper bag, but got lightheaded, so Will had him stop. He gargled with water, which resulted in Nico hiccuping and inhaling a bit of water, causing him to choke. He ate a spoonful of sugar, and then had to down a full glass of water to get the painful sweetness out of his mouth. If the sugar had cured the hiccups, then the water brought them right back. 

Nico was beyond frustrated, and Will was starting to side with Rachel on the cute vs. annoying hiccup debate. At one point, Will had left the infirmary with a huff, leaving Nico to think he’d finally gotten sick of helping, but he’d returned with a jar of peanut butter and a spoon, practically force-feeding Nico the sticky substance. 

“If this doesn’t work, we might be trying experimental surgery,” Will told him as he angrily crossed the last few attempts off on his list. 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Nico replied, having given up on not speaking somewhere around the time that Will had suggested he pull on his tongue. He licked his spoon clean of peanut butter, and the two boys waited with bated breath for a few silent moments until…

Hic!

Nico fell back against his pillow with a groan, and Will buried his face in his hands. 

“Go get the scalpel,” Nico told him in full seriousness.

Will nudged Nico to make room, and laid down beside him on the cot. “I’m not cutting you open. There’s gotta be something we haven’t tried.” 

“Death?” Nico suggested. “Haven’t tried dying yet.”

“I’ll put that at the bottom of the list.” 

“Maybe I can bribe Thanatos into taking me before my time. It would be humane. A mercy killing.” 

He hiccuped right next to Will’s ear, causing the healer to flinch. 

Wait, what did he say? A bribe?

Will got off the bed and crossed the room to Kayla’s desk. 

“I’m not eating any more peanut butter,” Nico called after him. 

Will dunked his hand into the infirmary’s swear jar, fishing beneath the American and Canadian currency for one of the drachmas at the bottom of the jar. He brought it back to Nico and offered the money to him. 

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Nico asked.

“Take it,” Will told him. “I’m buying your hiccups from you.” 

“You’re what?” 

“If it doesn’t work, you can put this toward your mercy killing fund.” Will picked up one of Nico’s hands and placed the coin in his palm. “There. I bought your hiccups.” 

Nico blinked. He took a breath. They waited in silence.

“Okay, what the fuck?” 

“It actually worked?” Will asked, laughing in disbelief. “That worked?”

Nico waved his arms between them. “What the fuck!”

Will pulled him in for a kiss, his hands on Nico’s cheeks and his smile brighter than the sun. “I’m letting those slide because there’s no kids around, and I’m worried that if you put that coin back in the swear jar your hiccups will come back, but watch your language, darling.” 

Nico shoved the drachma at Will’s chest. “Take it back.” 

“What? No,” Will replied. 

“This is freaking me out, take it back!” 

“Do you want your hiccups to come back?”

“Well, no, but--” 

“Then keep your money!” Will closed his hands around Nico’s to keep the coin between his fingers. “I bought your hiccups fair and square. No take-backs!” 

Nico was watching Will with wide eyes. “What the fuck is happening?” 

Will rolled his eyes and pulled Nico to his feet. “Alright, I think it’s time for a change of scenery. Let’s go find Rachel and see if she finished her painting yet.”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee

[trulycertain]

fic writer interview

Tagged by @skogrr Thank you very much! It's a while since I've done one of these, and I've missed them.

Name: Tru/"Oi you" Fandoms (that I write for): Dragon Age, mostly. Still the fandom of my heart. Mass Effect, Deus Ex... uh, accidentally GreedFall? I don't know how or when that happened. Two-shot: Hmm... The actual last two-shot I wrote was Terms & Conditions, a very silly Dorian/Inquisitor modern AU where Gal is the guy Dorian hires to stop his late father's house falling apart. Recently? I suspect that's going to be Driftwood, which can stand on its own as a sort of weird post-canon first-meeting AU, but is trying to tempt me to continue it. (Vasco ends up going looking for Tír Fradí, which has disappeared - and finds it. He also finds De Sardet as a highly avoidant tree god of the island, post-Bad Ending, who transformed against her will. And he ends up falling in love with her anyway.) Weird tree gods! Pining by literal pine! An eventual happy ending! More grumpy commentary by Vasco!

Most popular multi-chapter: Either An Unquenchable Flame or Distraction, probably - both juggernaut pairings, the former close to the game's release and the latter with some fancy forbidden romance, so not so surprising. But surprisingly, Prague, 10:42 PM has done really well, considering it's for a small fandom (Deus Ex) and a rarepair age/rank-difference pairing that I thought would be a one-off experiment? I get it, guys. I like sad repressed stoics too.

Actual worst part of writing: Editing - which can be fun, but that "over and over" stage when you're about to post, especially in a longfic if you fear you've lost the spirit of the thing and the character voices and you can't see the wood for the trees. And when I have to remove a whole scene which Jenga-unbalances the fic, and then I have to redux from the top. Basically, most things to do with pacing. How you choose your titles: I like double-meanings and one word titles. If that fails: quote from a song. If that fails: quote from poetry, but very rarely. Do you outline: Only a little. A bulletpointed list of events or noted-down major lines of dialogue, that's usually it.

Ideas I probably won’t get around to but wouldn’t it be nice: Uh... oh god. I blame so many people for some of these.

Post-Destroy ending where John is attempting to build a shed on Rannoch because that's the kind of thing retired people do, right? and Tali is far better at it than him, and it's just... disgusting fluff.

Actually, just reduxing the early John/Tali stuff with a bit more nuance and a stronger style.

Eva and Kaidan, and their mutually wary first meeting. ("Wow, that's a lot of pomade." "Wow, that's a lot of death-glare.")

AU where Gal and Dorian never met in DAI, and after everything went down, Gal tried to fade into the shadows and leave. He ended up working in Tevinter as an occasional informant/odd-jobs guy the way he was pre-Inquisition. He ends up being a gardener for a bitter, wry magister who seems to hate the entire Magisterium, has recently lost his father to political scheming and murder, and wants to take down the entirety of the remaining Venatori with one staff and maybe his teeth if he has to (hi, Dorian). But first, Dorian's going to drink his own body weight in whiskey and be a recluse for a while and start thinking about time magic again. Gal is trying to keep his head down and should definitely not be falling in love with said magister. Who's someday going to end up at one of the more southerly ports, come across a statue of the great Inquisitor, and go, Oh.

Stuff on Jensen's PT and rebuilding himself post-augs. More of Proprioception, basically.

Mer-AU where Marie De Sardet is still a diplomat attempting to make new connections, just not a human one, and it's a disaster. An awkward disaster. Highlights include her being framed as the beast trying to drown their best captain; her attempting to wobble about on brand-new legs and Vasco's coat while everyone assumes the dear captain has had a few too many; her asking Vasco if his "fascinating markings" glow; them getting into a duel, and her (fondly) getting punted off the side of the ship going "Woo-hoo." OK, I wrote a bit of that, but only a 1k doodle I'll probably never return to.

Non-Naut court AU where Marie gets promised to Bastien D'Arcy, because he's a bit of a layabout but he's also rich, popular at court, and amenable to bribe - [cough] suggestion, and the D'Arcys have prominent trading links with the Alliance. Instead she falls for his far less of a social butterfly, tired, worried-numbers-guy brother Léandre, who's pretty damn uncomfortable around Nauts because he's well aware he nearly got sold to them and he is not the favourite.

Straight-up role-reversal AU (another thing where I've put down 1k that I'll probably never return to), where Marie's Naut name is Paz, and she's a fed-up second-mate who's tired of noble idiots and feels a little strange and conflicted about her mark (and has context for it, because they make frequent crossings to Tír Fradí). Also a little more jaded, without the love of her mother, and not nearly as much of a tryhard as Vasco in canon; she ended up here because she had nowhere else to go and the Nauts were like "Ooh, free kid," and she's well aware. She gets stuck escorting the D'Arcy brothers to Tír Fradí for their new venture and is not looking forward to it. Except one of them is intensely bright and wry and keeps asking questions about the ship and noticing shit he is definitely not meant to notice, and they keep ending up in strange conversations, even if he seems really, really wary and uncomfortable about Nauts.

Some vague stuff about Vasco's thoughts on Jonas and that whole side quest, considering he's also a sea-given and implies sea-given take some shit in the Nauts, and also how damn difficult it must be watching a sea-given's parents endeavour to get their kid back when he knows full well his didn't do that for him.

Actually, just more Vasco POV in general, even though he's damn hard to nail down. I've written much pining for him from Marie's perspective, and I'd like to try things from the opposite. This guy's idea of wooing someone perfectly normally is to panic and then recite Baroque poetry. You know he's sappy as hell in the privacy of his own head, even if he's trying not to be.

Jean and Síora having the "I'm a sad healer who just lost my mother and I'm trying so hard not to crumble under the weight of assisting the leader" mutual talk way too late at night around the campfire and maybe him crying on her shoulder a little, with mutual kindness and the beginnings of attraction, and her finally getting past his jokey-smug facade to understand him.

More stuff about Jean's past in general, and how he wanted to be a doctor before he was dragged away from it by looking after Constantin and being nobility.

Síora and Eseld and the ways they changed over the years; something like an exploration of grief and growing her own will and the ways they very differently view the renaigse. Also maybe more about the en ol menawi magic, if I can worldbuild well enough?

I'd also love to do a GreedFall soulmark AU - it's generally not my kind of trope, I'm not into biological determinism type tropes - just because names and aliases and assumed identities are such a mess in GreedFall and it's a repeated plot point. That said, I feel like it's been done so beautifully in this fandom before that I wouldn't have much to add.

Callouts @ me: So. Many. Commas. So much over-explaining everything. If they get out of the car, your readers do not need a five-page manual of "and then he undid his seatbelt and leaned over to grasp the door handle, and then pulled it, and then stepped a foot out before he almost thought better of it - but no, he was going to get out of this car. The other foot joined the first, and he nearly banged his head on the doorframe."

Best writing traits: People say I have a head for finding small-but-important moments. I'm also told I write likeable protags. People have more than once said my writing makes them feel safe or makes them smile, and I really couldn't ask for more than that. I'll take those.

Spicy tangential opinion: I don't think I have any, really? Oh god, that makes me sound so very boring. Oh! Um. There should be more tree body horror in fandom. And body horror in general. *thumbsup*

No pressure tagging: @artemis-crimson, @eridanidreams,@rainypixel, @aphreal42.

[mythrilhusk]

Despite Everything - Chapter 3

NOT RPF Featured Relationship (Only SFW): Puffy/Niki

(Ao3 Link) Words: 1,759 Last Chapter CW: violence, coercion

Next Chapter

Niki arrives home to her apartment after a harrowing day of working in a field where all her male coworkers talk over her constantly, barely notice her when she offers ideas, and then promptly take credit for said ideas. Sometimes she hates men as a whole concept. 

She collapses onto her favorite beanbag and flicks on a show. Puffy sings in the shower, oblivious to Niki's arrival. Smiling, Niki hums along and relaxes to the tune. 

Puffy emerges from the bathroom dripping wet and covered in a towel. She waves to Niki and retreats to the bedroom to change into her comfy jeans and the hoodie she stole from Niki. "I ordered takeout, there should be some left on the table!" 

"Thanks, babe, you're amazing." Niki laughs and gets up, going to the kitchen. 

Puffy's scroll lays innocuously on the table, open and blinking with seventy new messages. Niki avoids looking at it, not wanting to invade her girlfriend's privacy, and picks up a plate of pizza. "Puffy, you're pretty popular today!" 

"Oh? Can you read them real quick and tell me what they say?" 

Niki blushes. "Sure." She picks up the scroll awkwardly and taps through the apps to get to the messages. "Uh, it's all your superhero shit, Puffy, I don't know what any of this means." 

"Really? I told them to call the other one if they need me... oh, it's dead again, dammit." Puffy storms to the kitchen with lightning in her smile. "Thanks, Niki, I'll take it." She skims through the pile of increasingly desperate calls for help. "Ugh, I'm sorry, babe, I have to go. Sam got in trouble with the law again. Eret's good, but he's no lawyer." 

"Don't you have a legal representative?" 

"Niki, I've told you, we're not backed by anybody. We're on our own. The officials see us as vigilantes, and yeah, that's kinda what we are." 

The fact finally sinks in. "Ohhh!" Niki laughs with relief. "So your battles aren't staged?" 

"No, babe. Real battles." Puffy grabs a slice of pizza. "I gotta go bail Sam out again, sorry." 

"Let me come with." Niki decides. "I won't help you fight, but I'm a paralegal. I can help you with the officials." 

"Really?" Puffy stares at her with stars in her eyes. "You'd do that for us?" 

"For you, yes." Niki says firmly. 

"Thank you, you will not regret this." Puffy stuffs the pizza in her mouth and grabs Niki's free hand. 

Down at the city's holding facilities, Niki strides straight to the front desk. "I'm here to legally represent Awesamdude." She slams down her identification. "And this is Sam's employer, Puffy." 

The bastard in a suit behind the desk gives Niki a bored, dismissive glance. "No visitors allowed." He drones. His nametag marks him as Sapnap.

"Sam has a right to legal counsel. I am here to provide that." Niki snaps. "Let us see him." 

"What are you two, his sisters?" Sapnap laughs. "Run along. You'll see him again in five years or so." 

Niki smiles sweetly at the guard, hiding her anger. Sam hasn't been convicted of anything yet, but the officials can legally postpone the trial and keep him captive for up to five years. "You wouldn't want to piss off the Nemesis corporate heads, would you?" 

"Nemesis?? Haven't heard of'em." He shrugs. "You got anything to back that up?" 

"Puffy?" Niki gestures her girlfriend forward with the bribe. "Sir Sapnap, we'd like to see our employee and make sure he hasn't been harmed. We at Nemesis take utmost pride in our marketing team." 

"Oh?" Sapnap leans forward as Puffy transfers several thousand bullion credits to his account. "Ohh. That's an admirable missions statement, ladies. I'll see what we can do." 

"We are going to visit Sam, now." 

"Yep, he's back there." Sapnap waves them along. "I'll send the code to unlock his cell, but I'll need a bit more, uh, compensation for the paperwork to release him." 

"Of course. We will take care of that in a few days. He could use a bit of discipline for allowing himself to be caught in the first place." Niki shushes Puffy's shocked little protest. "Good day, Sapnap." 

Leading Puffy back towards the holding cells, Niki waits to speak again until she's out of ear-shot. "I'm sorry, Puffy, but we had to make it seem as though he's just an errant employee."

"It's fine, I was just startled. You're so cold in your business mode." Puffy laughs lightly. 

Niki blushes. "I have to be, or nobody will take me seriously." 

Puffy bumps her shoulder. "I take you seriously." 

"You do. Thanks, babe." Niki bumps Puffy back. 

Puffy gasps and rushes to one of the cells. "Sam!!" She cries. "What the hell did they do to you??" 

The man in the cell smiles weakly, his lips and cheeks bruised, his clothes torn and muddy with blood and grime. "Hey, Puffy." He coughs. "I got in trouble." 

"I see that, but how??" 

"I shouldn't have gone after them alone." Sam groans and struggles to sit up. "I thought I could take them, but they were too strong, Puffy, they were too strong for me." 

"Who??" Puffy snarls, vengeful fire blazing in her eyes. 

"Pax Triumvirs." 

"Damn Angels." Puffy growls. "How dare they?? I oughta whoop their asses!" 

"It's fair, Puffy, I attacked them first." Sam laughs haltingly. 

"They didn't have to beat you up so badly!!" Puffy cries. "Now we have to hire a healer!" 

"I'm right here, Puffy." Niki crosses her arms. 

"You said you didn't want to get involved. Let me respect that, babe." 

"I am already involved. I just invented an entire corporation for you." Shrugging, Niki opens the cell. "Let me do this." 

"Darn, does this mean I have to actually pay my team now?" Puffy laughs. 

"Probably, yes." Niki kneels by Sam and places her hands over his chest. "This will hurt a lot." 

She activates her magic and pours the healing fire out into his body. Sam gasps, gritting his teeth to hold back a yell. His head lolls back as he faints, but his wounds are all healed. 

Niki rises and leaves the cell. Puffy stares at Sam's prone body, tears welling in her eyes. "Is he okay?" 

"He'll be fine when he wakes up." Niki responds. "Let him sleep for now. Healing takes a lot of energy." 

"Are you good?" Puffy turns to Niki. "You aren't going to collapse too, are you?" 

"No, I'm good." Niki smiles reassuringly. "Just thirsty." 

"Can I buy you a drink?" She says it like she's trying to flirt, but she's too worried to commit to a teasing tone. 

"Sure." Niki takes Puffy's hand and leads her out of the facility, waving to Sapnap on the way out. 

In a small indie bar, Niki and Puffy sit together in a corner booth. Puffy sighs over her bloody vodka. "Sam should know better than to mess with Angels."

"Is he a Spirit too?" 

"Spirit of Dark, yeah. His boyfriend disappeared a year ago, and he's been recklessly hunting for him ever since. I don't know what I can do to keep him safe." Puffy takes a gulp of her drink. 

"Who else do you work with?" 

"Hmm. There's Jack, Spirit of Light. Oh yeah, he told you already. You just met Sam. Then there's Eret, who's Ice, and Foolish, who's Life." Puffy grins and shrugs. "And then there's me, the hot one."

"What are Angels?" 

"They're like Patrons. You know how Patrons are aligned with a type of creature or being, yeah? Angels are aligned with a concept or ideal, and they're each chosen by a god, which gives them extra power. The one downside is they're always in their fae forms." 

Niki stares at Puffy, slightly confused by some of the words coming from her girlfriend's mouth. "Gods aren't real." She finally manages to giggle. 

"Niki, where the hell do you think our magic comes from?? Thin air??" Puffy cries. "Gods are probably the realest thing about this crazy world we're living in." 

"Okay, okay. But what's a fae form?" Niki raises her hands with a placating smile. 

"All us magic folk can transform to use more of our power." Puffy explains. "It usually takes a lot of focus and willpower to stay in your fae form for very long, so nobody ever does it for staged battles, but most of us Spirits can shift easily on command." 

"Why would staying in your fae form be a downside, then?"

Puffy laughs. "Most Angels' forms are absolutely terrifying, Niki, unless they're under a glamour. None of us can take one Angel alone, much less three like Sam tried to do!" 

"Huh. How'd they become Angels?"

"Generally? They break." Puffy spins her cup in her hand, then gulps it down. "They break, they die, a god chooses them, and voila, new Angel. Then they owe the god their life, so they're bound to serve. Probably some Angels pledge voluntarily, but most are broken and pieced back together. Like kintsugi." 

"Oh. That does not sound pleasant." 

"I mean, that's life, y'know." Puffy takes another fatalistic swig.  "Us Spirits, we've at least got a choice to fight or not."  

++++

Sapnap looks up as someone enters the holding facility past visitation hours. "Hey, you're not supposed- agh-" He chokes as an unseen power slams him against the wall. 

"Where is Awesamdude?" The Lucid Spider's mandibles click and chirrup as the low, mockingly gentle voice permeates the air with menace. 

"In- in cell eight!" Sapnap gasps. "Sir, please!" 

"You never came for me." 

"I couldn't, I couldn't find you, I'm sorry!" Sapnap pleads. The Lucid Spider drops him. He rubs his throat, gulping. "My pledge never expired, Dream. I live to serve you."

"Where are the others?" 

"We lost- we lost Quackity. Bad turned against us. But George and Karl are still loyal to you, sir." 

Dream shifts down to a humanoid form, his holographic vectors of neon green containing the death-white Wurm inside. His camo-shields activate to hide the painful neon behind drab black armor. "Take me to Sam." 

"Yes, sir." Sapnap hastily goes back to the cells, trembling with confusion and terror of his lord's sudden return to life. 

Sam glares at Dream and Sapnap as they approach. "You." He growls. 

"Me." Dream laughs. "Hello, Sam. I'm going to give you one last chance, old friend. Are you going to be smart like Sapnap here, or should I kill you last after I rip your precious team to shreds?"

Sam drops his head meekly. "I'm yours to command, my lord." 

Next Chapter

[recurring-polynya]

I try to make this Tumblr a place for my truest friends, those nice people who read my fanfiction, to get bonus content. I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, on a wave of inspiration. It’s an expansion of an event that came up in Between Tides – Renji breaking his arm back in Inuzuri. This will eventually be a flashback in a larger story, but not for a while, so this is sort of like a preview. (mmmaybe The Heart is a Muscle p6? I am mid-p4 now).

Anyway, here’s a sad story about Inuzuri, dirtbag teens in love, and back-alley surgery. I heard you like flashbacks, dawg, so I put some flashbacks inside of the flashbacks.

Rated T for some gruesome imagery and one cuss. You don’t have to have read any of my previous work, although I guess this contains some mild spoilers for the Heart is a Muscle.

As usual, @diademchiofthetripod made it better for me, particularly the beginning, but if there are parts that are still bad, those are mine.

In later years, when she recalled The Accident (which she usually tried not to), Rukia always thought of herself as the stupid one, but really, she wasn’t doing anything much stupider than usual. 

She saw the man’s lead pipe, of course; dull and heavy, hanging by his side.  It was a serious weapon in Inuzuri, and he was a large man with a mean face, but he was also sloppy drunk, and his money pouch was beyond tempting, only loosely tied to his belt. She had made it ten paces away, nearly across the street, when she felt the hand clamp onto her arm like an iron band. What she had failed to notice was that her mark had a partner.

Said partner had one hand tight on her neck, the other twisting her own hands painfully behind her back, while the mark tapped the pipe in his hand and slurred out all the things he was going to do to her after he split her head like a melon. Rukia was running numbers, examining possibilities, playing out scenarios for escaping. 

It was not looking good.

The man raised the pipe.

Rukia squeezed her eyes shut.

It was the worst sound she had ever heard in her life to date, a meaty crunch, the shattering of bone. Later in her life, there would be worse sounds, the sound of a sword sliding through flesh, the sound of an Arrancar’s Resurrección. But this was bad enough.

Rukia also had a partner, a loud boy with a stupid amount of red hair, who had just interposed himself between Rukia and the lead pipe. Wait. That was incorrect. He was not a boy any more. This was, in fact, the exact moment when she stopped thinking of him as a boy. He towered over almost everyone she knew in this town, this awful place where everyone and thing was stunted and twisted. His shoulders were wide and strong, despite never getting enough to eat. He had not been a boy for a while.

 Right now, the air around him boiled. The lead pipe was bent ridiculously over his forearm. Rukia could not see her rescuer’s face, only his broad back, and past his shoulder, the wide eyes of the man with the leadpipe. Then, Renji growled out what the terrified man could do with himself, and clocked him in the face with a left cross before whirling on Rukia’s captor. 

The partner was startled by the arrival of this flame-haired monster, and Rukia slipped his grip, kicked the man in the nards, and beat it. She was not abandoning her partner, she would never. This was standard protocol. They had stayed alive in this brutish place for over eight years by being small and quiet and very, very quick. They would need some new strategies, Rukia, realized, because Renji was no longer small and quiet. He was still quick though, she could hear his heavy footfalls behind her, feel his presence in her wake in a way that, as far as she knew, only the two of them could do. She was glad he had stuck to the old standard operating procedures, too, even though he now very well qualified as one of the brute class.

She ducked between some decrepit buildings, under some hanging laundry, around the stench of the tanner’s, and skidded to a halt in a dank alley illuminated by a thin shaft of dirty sunlight.

For a long moment, she breathed in and out, watching the dust motes hanging in the air, afraid to turn around.

“Rukia… are… are you alright?” Renji panted behind her. 

She slowly turned. He was cradling his right arm in his left. 

“I’m fine,” she said. “Let me see it.”

She should have called him an idiot, a moron. Could he not find a weapon, a stick, anything, rather than his own precious body to put between her and certain death?

“It doesn’t look all that bad,” he admitted, experimentally holding it out for examination. 

It looked terrible. It should have been a bruised lump of blood and pulp, but instead, it just looked wrong. The bones were not in the places where arm bones should be, nor were they the right shape, but the skin was miraculously unbroken. He could move it around and flex his hand well enough, although this caused things to shift around sickeningly beneath his skin. The entire arm was slowly turning a deep purple.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, it hurts pretty bad.”

“Dammit, Renji,” Rukia glowered at him. 

The look in his eyes was sheepish through the pain, and her heart twisted in her chest. Why did she always have to be so impulsive, so stupid? Why?

*   *   *

Rukia hated taking so much of the food, but she and Renji might need it and Fujimaru didn’t. Mameji was sick again, so Rukia left some for him, though they weren’t sure whether it actually helped. It seemed like he was through the worst of this spell, but she didn’t want to take any chances, as if waking up in Inuzuri every morning didn’t constitute taking a chance.

“Make him stay in bed for at least two days after he seems better,” she ordered Fujimaru, as if he didn’t know this, as if they hadn’t all been through this a dozen times now. “Thank you for staying with him.”

“Whatever,” Fujimaru said glumly, his eyes glued to the mangled mess of Renji’s arm.

Renji was uncharacteristically quiet. They had already had the argument, screaming through the night, and he had lost. Renji was the biggest of them, the strongest. His stoicism meant nothing, the gang depended on him. They had to try to get it fixed.

There was a healer, more of an apothecary, really, who lived up in 76. Seeking medical attention was a valid reason to get a travel pass, but they lacked the finances for the bribe, so they traveled by stealth instead. 

Rukia and Renji went up to 77 all the time for thievery purposes. They were too well known in Inuzuri, and also, there was better stuff to steal up there. They didn’t take the others with them, not anymore. One border crossing was a calculated risk, less so when you could use your spiritual pressure to lighten your feet and keep air in your lungs. Two was exponentially more dangerous. When you arrived in Soul Society, they branded a number on your soul with demon magic. The penalty for being caught in a place that didn’t match that number was supposed to be a second death, but the vile souls that passed for law enforcement down here would probably find some much worse things to do to you first. One district away meant safety was only a mad dash for the border to get you back where you belong. Two districts was something else entirely.

Rukia tried not to think about how Renji had made this journey once before, in the middle of the night, with herself, dying, tied to his back. She imagined he didn’t like to think about that much, either. She had been gored by a wild boar, out in the woods, her side ripped open. Renji had stopped the bleeding with his spiritual energy, a feat that he had not been able to reproduce, nor did he wish to, because it hadn’t healed anything, only burned the wound closed. The old apothecary had apparently had to tear her open again, and sew everything back together with needle and thread and his own meager healing abilities, while Renji looked on and held down her convulsing body.

The old man was not a kind man or even a good man. He did not work on charity cases, but he saw a strong young man who could read and write and even do a few figures, so Renji spent the next six weeks working off his debt, collecting payment from deadbeats on top of a little light bookkeeping and writing out prescriptions, while Rukia slowly recovered in the back room. 

Renji could have stayed. Rukia was listening at the door when the man offered to get him a work pass. A work pass, the value was immeasurable. “They’ll let you keep the girl with you, if you tell ‘em she’s your wife,” Rukia remembers the apothecary saying, the words burned into her brain, and for a moment, her head swam with possibility. Renji was always trying to gain steady employment, but there was little to be had in Inuzuri. This work was mildly unsavory, but hardly the worst thing they’d ever done. She hadn’t seen much of life in District 76, but surely it had to be miles above 78. 

 “Thank you,” he had said quietly. “But I got friends depending on me back home.”

“You’re a moron,” the man told him. 

Renji never mentioned it to her and she wasn’t about to admit she’d been eavesdropping. She agreed with his decision, it was absolutely the correct one. Still, it sat heavy and dark in the pit of her stomach, the idea of what he had given up, alongside the guilty feeling that some part of her, no matter how briefly, had wanted him to agree to it, especially the part where she got to stay too. 

After that, she asked him to teach her to read and write, a crusade he’d given up on after years of her rudely brushing him off. She could still do neither as well as he could, although, she realized with a sick feeling, that it was his right arm that was broken, his writing arm. She hoped she could be as valuable to the old apothecary as Renji had been.

But when they reached the shop, it was run down and in ill-repair. The apothecary, whose name was Kitajima, looked old, very old. One could theoretically live forever in Soul Society, but most souls become worn down eventually, and once the degradation began, the end usually came on quickly.

“Barely have any business these days,” he grumbled. “Don’t need any help.”

Fortunately, for as poorly as the job turned out, Rukia had managed to make off with three silver coins from that asshole with the lead pipe. The apothecary’s rheumy eyes locked on them. “I will take a look,” he agreed. 

“As I told you the last time you were here,” the old man growled at Renji as he examined the arm, “You have the demon magic in you. The shinigami use it to cast spells, but also to push their bodies past what is normally possible. Like a fool, you have done this without proper training. You have broken and healed yourself simultaneously,  but with no skill, and you have made a hash of it.”

“I wasn’t trying,” Renji pointed out plaintively.

“Can you repair it?” Rukia asked.

“I can rebreak it,” Kitajima replied, addressing Renji only, as though Rukia didn’t even exist, “and set the pieces properly. It will take all your silver. I will need the girl to help. It will be terrible.”

The more powerful painkillers had been sold off long ago, so Kitajima gave Renji some willow bark tea before they started, and optimistically suggested that he would probably pass out very quickly.  Rukia had seen Renji take a lot of damage before, and had an awful sense that this cheerful prediction was not to come true. 

The things that happened next are best glossed over. But when it was finished, Rukia sat with Renji’s sleeping head in her lap, smoothing his hair back from his sweat-glazed forehead. Kitajima was trying to give her instructions, but her head still spun from the horror of it all. 

The old man would not bear the risk of harboring souls outside of their home districts, not this time. As soon as Renji could stand, they needed to leave.

It was likely that Renji would be set upon by fever. Kitajima pressed a few more packets of tea into Rukia’s hand. It might help. If she could not keep the fever down, it would likely kill him.

There was one last thing. The old man took her wrist in one withered claw. “There are ducts in the arm. They are not real. They cannot be seen without the second sight. It is how the demon magic runs through your body, from your heart to your hands. His were injured, possibly ruined. I have fixed his bones, but this cannot be fixed.”

“I understand,” Rukia replied, even though she didn’t, not really. Later, she would see pictures in textbooks, and truly understand what he had lost.

The fever set in even before they left, but the old man’s good will had worn out, and it was nightfall, the best time for going, so they went. Renji’s temperature increased steadily as they moved south, sticking to the treeline, away from where people lived. His eyes were bright and wild, and he spoke of things that didn’t make any sense, a farm, a mother, a pet dog.

Rukia couldn’t decide whether it was better to stop frequently, to give Renji rest and a chance to drink his medicine, or if it was more important to get him home, to a roof and a blanket and most importantly, safety. She compromised by dragging him through the night, his huge bulk leaning more and more heavily on her shoulder, until they crossed the Inuzuri border, where they collapsed together in a pile of dead leaves under a big oak. The sun was coming up, and the bare branches of the tree did little to block its rays, but Renji fell unconscious almost immediately.  

Rukia rested, but she did not allow herself to sleep. Renji was burning up. Maybe the sleep would help, maybe it wouldn’t. She wanted to bathe his forehead, but she needed to conserve their clean water to mix with his medicine. She thought about searching for a stream, but she was terrified to take her eyes off him, even knowing there wasn’t a thing she could do if he took a bad turn. It was a chilly day at least, and she wished for cold breezes, even as she shivered.

She wanted to be furious with him. How dare he even think about trading his life for hers, as though outliving your friends was some sort of mercy! But she couldn’t stay angry. She knew, she had known since they put Kosaburou in the ground, that she had it in her to push onward though sorrow, through despair. But Renji had anchored himself to her, even moreso than the others, although he would never admit it. When she died, so would go the thin threads of common sense and self-preservation that tied him to this plane. He wasn’t the depressed type, at least she didn’t think he was, but he would just keep doing progressively stupider and riskier things until he’d finally earned his lottery card for meeting up with her again in the World of the Living.

Luckily, after a few hours, his fever broke, and not long after that, he woke. Rukia propped him up against the trunk of the tree, and made him eat one of their sour, wrinkly apples while she heated his tea with her demon magic, as the old man had called it.

“When did you learn to make heat with it?” Renji croaked. “Can you teach me?”

“You have to get better first,” she replied gently. 

“Ru– Ru– Rukia, I’m sorry,” he stammered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You dumbass,” she chided him. “It was me. I was the one who was stupid.”

“We– we both need to be more careful,” he wheezed.

She studied his face. There was the faintest shadow of stubble on his jaw. He wasn’t a boy anymore. “No, I think that’s wrong,” she replied. “Being careful isn’t going to save us. Enough people saw you block a lead pipe with your bare arm. That’s a good start for a reputation. We would be foolish to waste it. It’s time to stop sneaking and skulking, and be bold and brash instead, to take this town for all its worth.”

He leaned his head back against the tree. “Can we start… tomorrow?”

Rukia laughed, and brought over his tea. When she bent to give it to him, a bold and brash thought seized her, and as his hands took the cup from hers, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He froze completely, his muscles locked in something like rigor mortis. She knew, with utter certainty, that his brain had abruptly devoted 100% of its processing cycles toward not dropping that tea.

This was the second time she had kissed him. The first had been many years prior. Inuzuri was a bad place for children, and girls in particular. Rukia had decided early on that, even if it wasn’t necessarily good, she wanted her first kiss to be freely given, and with someone she thought fondly of. She had carefully considered all four boys; any of them would have sufficed. Kosaburou would be gentle and thoughtful about it. Fujimaru, cheerful and easy going. Mameji would take the obligation very seriously, and never tell a soul. And then there was Renji. Grumpy. Pessimistic. She wasn’t even entirely sure he liked girls– he scolded the other boys any time they had “romantic notions,” as he put it, and he stiffened like a board if he thought she was going to touch him. Perhaps, like a cat, she was drawn to him because of the discomfort she sparked, but he was the one her heart settled on. She cornered him under a different tree, one summer morning when the others had already headed down to the river for some fishing. 

“I want to kiss you,” she informed him. “Just the once, not a regular thing. Is that all right?”

His eyebrows drew together. “Why me?”

“I like your hair,” she replied, the first thing that popped into her head.

He contemplated this for a minute, then shut his eyes and clenched up his entire body, like he was ready to take a punch. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“You can just say no if you don’t want to,” Rukia replied. “You look really, uh, nervous about it.”

He took a deep breath in and out through his nose, and then his face relaxed, if not the rest of him. “Naw, it’s okay. I want you to. Go ahead.”

Rukia didn’t actually know much about how kissing worked, so she just sort of pressed her face up against his, their lips and noses squishing together uncomfortably. When what she gauged to be the correct amount of time had passed, she retreated again. “Did I do okay?” she asked.

Renji’s gaze was unfocused and he seemed to be having trouble breathing. “Yeah, it was nice,” he agreed, his voice sounding very far away. She suspected he was just trying to be kind.

“Let’s go fishing,” she said, and then he chased her down to the river like nothing at all had happened.

Rukia had observed a few more kisses since then, and had a better idea of how it was supposed to go, although Renji was no more helpful. She squeezed his fingers gently as she backed away.

“You saved me,” she said very quietly. “The hero is supposed to get a kiss.”

“Rukia,” he murmured, staring into the cloudy tea, unable to meet her eyes. “You shouldn’t’ve. We can’t.”

“You don’t want to,” she suggested.

“That’s… untrue,” he managed, and took a sip of his tea. 

“Then why can’t we?”

“It would be unfair. The others…”

“I love all of them! I love all of you!” Rukia proclaimed, and Renji stiffened. That was the true sin, not kissing, but loving, in this forsaken place. They never said that word, none of them, not even once. But they had lost Kosaburou already, and everyone knew Mameji’s cough was never going to go away, and being careful wasn’t going to save any of them. Rukia swallowed. “But you’re the one I want to kiss.”

Renji squeezed his eyes shut and drank more of his tea. It wasn’t fair of her to do this to him while he was in tremendous pain, but she had almost lost him, she could still lose him. The fever might return, the wound might sour. And even if he recovered, there was the next heist, the next lead pipe, the next boar. Rukia felt seized with the need to make the most of every minute in between.

Renji sat back, rubbing at his splinted arm ruefully. He looked awful, pale and hollow-eyed and clammy with old sweat. Rukia loved him so much, she couldn’t stand it. She shouldn’t have said it out loud, she realized. The word was, indeed, a curse, an evil magic spell.

Renji turned his head to the side, pressing his cheek against the bark of the tree. “You’re such a bother, Rukia. You saved my life the first day we met, and you’ve been nothing but trouble to me ever since.”

“I know,” she replied.

“Can I go back to sleep, or do we need to get moving again?”

“You can sleep for a bit if you like, but you’ll be more comfortable back at the squat.”

“I’m comfortable enough here.”

He closed his eyes, and Rukia wondered if he was going to sleep like that, propped up against the tree. After a minute, though, he opened them again.

“If you want to kiss me now and again, I suppose that would be all right,” he pronounced with an air of finality. “But I kinda feel like shit right now, so maybe we could start that tomorrow, too.”

[eryiss]

Chapter One - Meeting

Summary: Laxus Dreyar, prince of Fiore, has been trapped in the town of Magnolia for months by order of his grandfather. After a failed attempt at leaving ends up with the prince injured, his grandfather punishes him by adding a new guard to his retainer team. An arrogant, up-tight, overly confident, handsome bastard named Freed Justine. [Fraxus | Fantasy AU]

This was originally written as a one shot for Fraxus day, but it got a little out of hand so here we are. It’s inspired by the Fire Emblem games, but I don’t know enough about the games to really call it an official AU, so I thought it best to just call it a fantasy AU. But if you know the series, you might catch some references.

You can read this on FanFiction, Archive of our Own, or under the cut. You can find the chapter list here. Hope you enjoy it ^.^

Chapter One: Meeting

"This is bullshit."

Laxus' words were practically spat out. The prince was sitting atop his bed, bandages wrapped around his otherwise bare torso, essentially pouting as he was forced to maintain direct eye contact with one of his retainers; Bickslow. He was vaguely aware that, leaning against the wall of his chambers, Evergreen was watching both men with an expression that would probably be equal parts patronising and amused. It made Laxus' annoyance at the situation worse.

He had been forced to chambers by his grandfather – and king – while the older man 'decided what to do with him.' Bickslow and Evergreen had been allowed to keep him company, and Bickslow had decided he would try to heal Laxus' injuries while they had nothing better to do. Hence why the two men were holding such intense eye contact.

Apparently Bickslow's magic worked better that way. Laxus didn't understand why, and Bickslow only explained by saying the eyes were the windows to the soul.

His injuries came from his own stupidity; he was mature enough to admit that. For the past few months, he hadn't been allowed out of the town that his castle looked over, and he had been getting somewhat stir crazy. Multiple times he had found himself in his grandfather's office, asking for permission to leave the bounds of Magnolia to do something – anything – in a place where it wasn't immediately obvious that he was royalty. Each time – even when the requests were rational such as when he wanted to camp for a weekend in a forest a half-hour's walk away from the city boarders – he was turned down under the excuse that it was best for his safety if he stayed. Every time, Laxus had felt his anger grow until he eventually snapped.

So he… ran away.

He resented the term his grandfather used, but it was basically true. He had convinced his retainers that it would be best for them all to get away, and intended to travel to the nearest city, have a small vacation there, and then return. It would have taken two weeks at the most and would have done the blonde a world of good. His plan had not gone as well as he had hoped.

Two things had gone wrong, as far as Laxus knew. One; the night guard who he had bribed for his silence had a change of heart and had gone to Makarov to explain what Laxus was doing. Two; there had been a very minor attempt at kidnapping him.

It wasn't as bad as everyone was making it out to be, really. Yes, someone had tried to kidnap the prince of Fiore on his first outing in months. Yes, at one point he had a sword to his throat that could have killed him. Yes, the three of them had been taken unaware and the fight had not been as easy as it should have been. But it wasn't as if Laxus had been taken; Evergreen's magic made quick work of most of the kidnappers and Laxus and Bickslow were by no means weak and vulnerable. Even the injures Laxus had gained had actually come from his horse being spooked and bucking him off, rather than the kidnappers themselves.

Annoyingly, the guards looking for Laxus appeared at the same time the kidnappers were forced to retreat. And they didn't believe Laxus' story about where his injuries came from, or about how long he planned to be away.

So now, he was essentially fucking grounded.

"Oh, that's what you think," Evergreen said, incredibly sarcastically. "I thought you loved everything about this situation and wanted it to go on forever. Oh you're so hard to read, Laxus. Thank you for the clarification."

"I can kill you Ever," Laxus grunted. "I'm a prince, I can have you beheaded."

"Firstly, no you can't. That hasn't been allowed for centuries," Ever laughed. "And secondly, if you killed me, the only friend you'd have in the world is Bickslow. Imagine that. Just Bickslow. Bickslow."

Laxus chuckled a little, seeing Bickslow's eye twitch as he continued focusing on healing the prince. He couldn't be sure, but Laxus could just see Bickslow raise an arm towards Evergreen's direction and the blonde expected that a certain finger would be raised towards her. He was glad that he had the two of them with him, or he would be both bored out of his mind and stewing in his anger. Also he was fairly sure that fucking horse had broken a rib when it kicked him off, and that would have hurt a lot more without Bickslow's healing.

God, what would happen if they lost their position for helping him. Well, he just wouldn't let that happen.

"You got any idea what they're gonna do?" Evergreen asked, and she was looking at Laxus so obviously was addressing him.

"Who fucking knows," Laxus sighed, wanting to run a hand through his hair but stopping himself so the healing could be continued. "Guards at the doors to my chambers, not even allowed out of the castle, let alone Magnolia. Which is gonna fucking kill me because I can't deal with staying inside this fucking town let alone this stupid fucking old-"

"And we're done!" Bickslow chimed, and Laxus cut himself off by the sudden chill that overtook him at the absence of Bickslow's magic.

"Doesn't feel fucking done," Laxus grunted, looking at the scabs and cuts on his arms he knew Bickslow could have healed.

"Well, maybe if you weren't being such a grumpy bitch then I'd make all your injuries go away. But you are, so suck it up," The healer grinned wide and manically, looking towards Evergreen. "And if I remember correctly, I was your only friend for quite a long time, and look how you turned up," He paused, looking Evergreen up and down. "Actually, she's right. If you turn out like that then you're screwed."

"Asshole," Ever snapped, but Laxus saw her smiling a little.

A small but playful argument occurred between the two retainers, and it allowed Laxus some time to think to himself. He should have known that this would happen in some way, it wasn't as if he would return home from his two weeks away to cheers and forgiveness and a parade to honour his successful attempt at running away. It would always end up in this situation, although being confined to his bedroom wouldn't have been as bad if he hadnt seen the aforementioned room for a week as he had intended.

He continued to spiral into a mess of anger – aimed at both himself and the situation he found himself in – for a little while as Evergreen and Bickslow continued to argue with each other; he wasn't listening so couldn't tell what exactly they were picking at anymore.

The situation was broken when the two large doors to Laxus' chambers were pushed open, slamming against the walls they were attached to. He saw Gildarts, one of Makarov's most trusted knights and retainer, swagger through the doors that he had opened with far too much gusto. Normally, Laxus would have gotten pissed at someone storming into his room without permission, but Gildarts was almost definitely acting on the king's orders and, as the king was kind of pissed off at Laxus, he didn't want to make it worse.

"Your gramps wants to see ya, kid," Gildarts grinned, apparently knowing Laxus wasn't gonna risk biting back on his slight taunt. "You really pissed him off, y'know."

Laxus stood, walking to the door. He spared him a glance as he muttered. "Thanks."

The two men walked through the large, lavish halls of Magnolia Castle in silence, with Laxus walking a few steps in front of Gildarts. He made sure his face was devoid of any emotion, partly because he was trained to hide his feelings from his youth, and also because if he got control of himself now, he was less likely to explode when face to face with his grandfather.

When they reached the king's office, Gildarts stood to the side of the door, assumedly so he could stand guard. Taking in a breath, Laxus pushed open the doors and walked into Makarov's office.

His grandfather was sitting behind his large wooden desk, which had stacks of paper on one side and a large lamp on the other. The king looked up at the entrance of his grandson, removed the glasses he was wearing and looked at the blonde with an expression that screamed 'disappointed but not angry.' Laxus bristled a bit at this, because he knew his grandfather was just as volatile as he was and he was pissed, not just disappointed. This was the façade he wore when he was acting as a king rather than himself.

So he was dealing with King Makarov and not his grandfather. Great.

As he walked further into the room, he saw that there was another man standing to the side. He was facing the king, so Laxus couldn't see his face, but he had long green hair and was wearing typical swordsman's armour: predominant black fabric with silver lining, and small plates of armour over vulnerable parts of his body but not enough to limit his movement. He also had a red cloak over his shoulder, which connoted a high rank. Laxus didn't recognise him, though.

"Take a seat, Laxus," Makarov stated, voice somewhat tired. It grated on the blonde's nerves.

"I'd rather stand," He grumbled a little, wanting to have a small amount of power in the conversation.

"If you must," Makarov leant forward. "As I'm sure you've realised, I am not happy with your behaviour over the last few days. Not only did you willingly go against my orders for you to stay in the city, which I did to keep you safe," Laxus rolled his eyes at that. "But you also took your retainers, and therefore put them both in danger with you."

"I wasn't in danger," Laxus muttered.

"You were nearly kidnapped Laxus, that's essentially the definition of being in danger," Makarov snapped, and now there was no doubt that Makarov was angry at him, not just disappointed. "You were reckless, you were childish, and you put your retainers in danger just because you can't handle a small amount of control being taken away from you."

"Small?" Laxus gritted his teeth. "I haven't left this fucking town in months."

"People in that 'fucking town' are going through a lot worse than that, and they don't throw tantrums over it. Get over yourself," Makarov snapped, his kingly façade slipping. "Clearly, what you've done isn't acceptable and it can't happen again. After looking at the problem from a few angles, I believe that the best way to stop this is-"

"You're gonna keep me in the castle," Laxus snapped. "Or in my chambers or tie me to my fucking bed or whatever. Stop fucking around and tell me."

"Don't interrupt me, brat," Makarov snapped again. "As I was saying, that the best way to stop this from happening again is to admit that, perhaps, I misjudged the effects of keeping you in magnolia. I didn't expect it to mess with your head as much as it did, and I clearly didn't expect you to do something so reckless as to run away-"

"I wasn't trying to run away!" Laxus yelled his protest.

"Clearly your freedom is more important to you than I expected," Makarov continued as if he hadnt heard Laxus' claim. "So, I'm going to work on a way to allow more freedom while keeping you safe from potential attack."

Laxus quietened at that, not exactly sure how to respond. The idea of Makarov admitting he was wrong wasn't farfetched – he wasn't irrational – but to hear him do so after Laxus had pissed him off was confusing. It was clear that Makarov was still angry at him, and whatever his plan was wasn't going to be as simple as him saying things can go back to the way they used to be. But, with how much he was craving more freedom, he expected any punishment he might have to take would be worth it.

"From what I've been told, you were taken unaware by the kidnappers," Makarov continued. "That, to me, suggests that there is a problem with your retaining team."

"You are not replacing them!" Laxus spoke up, teeth gritting again. "It was my fault they were distracted."

"I don't doubt it," Makarov glared at his grandson. "I know you have a good relationship with Evergreen and Bickslow, and I don't hold it against you. I was the same at your age. But I believe that, given the target you now have on your back, having two retainers – one of whom focuses on healing – is not effective. Hence why Mr Justine is here."

Makarov nodded towards the knight who was still standing in the room, a little behind Laxus. The blonde looked back, to see he had a stoic expression on his somewhat fragile features; the man himself didn't seem fragile, Laxus could tell this from a glance. He looked back to his grandfather.

"Don't recognise him," Laxus stated. This was unusual, he knew of almost everyone working in the castle, even if he didn't speak to most of them.

"Mr Justine here has been working through the rehabilitation program, and is one of the most successful participants," Makarov explained, and Laxus had to fight a roll of his eyes. So he was one of Makarov's little pet projects. "As you can tell from his uniform, he's gained the position of a knight, which he has had for quite some time. He's a good fighter, effective with a sword and has the mind of a tactician. Which is why I believe that he will be effective when he takes control of your retainer team."

"No," Laxus stated, tone not leaving room for argument. "He's a fucking criminal! And you want him to follow me everywhere? Are you fucking kidding me?"

"He is as much a criminal as you are," Makarov spoke calmly, cutting off Laxus before he could speak. "By going against my orders and leaving Magnolia, you technically committed treason. Therefore, you are a criminal."

"Oh fuck off," Laxus growled, knowing Makarov was baiting him for a reaction. "When I was a kid, I slammed the doors too much when you told me not to, was that treasonous too?"

"Technically speaking, yes," Makarov wouldn't break eye contact with Laxus, making the blonde bristle again. "But that is beside the point, Mr Justine is no longer a criminal in my eyes and therefore he is no longer a criminal in any law in this country. I trust him and he has proven himself to be both reliable and effective in his work. As far as I'm concerned, that's all that matters."

"What if I say no," Laxus crossed his arms. "Or what if Bicks or Ever have a problem. They ain't gonna like some random criminal telling them what to do."

"From what I know, Bickslow and Evergreen have already formed something of a friendship with Mr Justine here, so I doubt they'll have any problems with him joining your team," Makarov explained, and Laxus frowned. He didn't know that. "And as for your opinion on it, I won't be taking it into account. Just like you didn't take my orders into account when you ran off because you wanted to stretch your legs. But if you continue to act like a child and fight with me about this, I may take your recommendation to keep you restrained to the castle on board. Thank you for that."

There was a great urge to tell his grandfather to go fuck himself that Laxus found himself fighting, and the only thing stopping him was the fact Makarov was going to follow through on his threat if he was pushed enough.

The blonde turned to the man who was apparently now part of his retainer team and glared at him openly. He didn't know exactly what the man had done to get him arrested and subsequentially put into the rehab program, and he knew that his grandfather wouldn't tell him if he asked. But the fact he was here – and had been taken into the castle's jails; that was the only way people got into the rehab program – meant that it wasn't a small crime. Laxus felt his distrust of the criminal wearing knights armour was justified.

The knight, Mr Justine, looked back at Laxus with an unreadable expression on his face. Neither said anything, and if Laxus wasn't as good at hiding his emotions then he may have squirmed a little under his gaze. The criminal seemed to be assessing him while maintaining eye contact. It was disturbing.

"I expect you to treat him with the same amount of respect you give to your current retainers, Laxus," Makarov commented, standing up and walking to the door of his office. He gave Laxus a pointed glare. "I have to ask you both to leave now, I have work to do."

Mr Justine nodded, bowed and gave the usual goodbye that Makarov was given. Laxus didn't speak to his grandfather as he walked out of the office, and when the door was shut behind them both he looked towards his new retainer with an expression of distrust across his features.

"Gramps said you can look after yourself," Laxus stated, arms crossed. "You agree with that?"

"I'm a better knight that most people here," The man spoke for the first time, voice smooth and confident. "I'm qualified to look after you."

"Prove it. Go to the courtyard and beat me in a fight, hand-to-hand."

There was a moment of silence before the knight spoke again. "No."

"Fucking typical," Laxus muttered. "Why the hell should I trust you as a retainer if you don't have the balls to fight me."

"That isn't the reason I don't wish to fight you," Mr Justine spoke, and Laxus was annoyed that he believed the man. Nobody who spoke that confidentially was scared of a fight. "While you're still recovering, you will have an excuse to why you don't beat me. If the only way to earn your respect is to fight, it will be when neither of us have the luxury of saving face if we lose. So when you've recovered, then I will fight you. Is that acceptable?"

Laxus bit back the urge to use his title as prince against him. The cocky son of a bitch thought he could beat Laxus? And he was confident enough to be acting like that? Bastard. Still, taking away the smugness of his face would be pretty fucking cathartic.

"Fine."

"Very well," Mr Justine turned to walk away, but stopped himself. He looked back to Laxus with the same expression on his face. "I feel I should let you know, for full discretion, that me and your current retainers met and became close when the three of us were part of the king's rehabilitation program, which you seem to not respect."

Laxus' eye twitched. He didn't know that either.

"I can't imagine why they wouldn't mention it to you," The knight continued. "You seem so open to the chance of someone changing who they used to be," His face split into a spiteful, almost cruel looking smile. "Good day, your highness."

He turned on his heel and walked away. Laxus ground his teeth together, felt a rush of anger flow over him, before storming off in the opposite direction.

Bastard.

[lettersnorth]

The Truce

Music Theme

The card had shown up in a stack of mail the barkeep at the Drowning Wench had been holding for her. Blank except for a large white circle of paint in the center. The sight of it had caused her steps to falter, bringing her to a halt on her way out of the Lominsian alehouse. She was not so far removed from her life in Ul'dah that she did not recognize it for what it was. A truce card. There was only one person who could have sent this. 

Aislinn's initial instinct was to toss it over the first railing she came to, let the wind carry it to the ocean far below. Her stomach roiled with pent up anger. Sterling did not make truces. And even if he did he had sent bounty hunters straight to her door, flushing her out like a rabbit from its den. What reason could he possibly have to suddenly call for a truce? Whatever this was, she couldn't take it at face value. 

And yet, she didn't toss it that sun. Nor the next. She kept it with her, the knowledge of its existence like an irritating splinter in her mind. Aislinn didn't like things she couldn't make sense of and this was a puzzle to her. A part of her knew that's likely just what he wanted. He knew that in the end she'd be unable to ignore it purely because it made no sense. And damn him to Seven Hells, he was right. A fortnight later, much against her better judgement, she sent a card back with a date, time and a meeting place. 

This was how she found herself sitting at one of the well-worn tables of the Drowning Wench one gray, stormy evening. She’d chosen the Wench because it was sure to be crowded. Usually, she hated crowds but now she was depending on the many eyes to work in her favor, insuring Sterling wouldn't try anything drastic. And though it was raining heavily outside, the weather did little to keep the steady stream of patrons away from the Lominsan establishment. Leaning back in her chair, her fingers fidgeted with the truce card, turning it over and over in her lap as she watched a nearby table of sailors slowly slide into pleasant inebriation, the growing pile of cups at their table marking the time just as well as hands on a clock. 

“Aislinn.” 

She looked up from her people watching to find Sterling standing next to one of the empty chairs at her table. 

The room was crowded, that was true. And a hum and chatter of noise fell over everything but not so much that she couldn’t pick out the stiffness with which he greeted her. Over the years she had enough time to learn almost every one of his shifts in tone and their meaning. This one told her this meeting had not been his idea. He was there grudgingly, just as she was. Interesting. 

Wordlessly, she motioned to the empty chair. 

His icy gaze swept over the sparse tabletop. “Not drinking?” 

“This isn’t a social call.” she replied evenly, placing the card on the table. “I’d like my wits about me.” 

He snorted as if conceding to her point and after shaking the last bit of rain from his black traveling coat, took a seat. “All things considered, you look well.” 

“Come off it.” she shot back, all her practiced calm evaporating in the flare of her anger before she could help it. “‘All things considered’ being the mercenaries you’ve been sending my way.” 

He reached into his coat and retrieved a hand rolled cigarette, checking to be sure it was still dry before he reached out and lit it off the small candle at the center of the table. All of this was done with all the languid motions of someone who hardly seemed apologetic for his actions. 

“And yet, you look fine.” he said, bringing the cigarette to his lips with a slow smile, liking that he had disrupted her calm so easily. 

Not willing to play games, she slid the card closer to him and got right to the point. “What is this?” 

There was a narrowing around his eyes, a tightness that again told her he loathed the sight of the card and all it represented. 

“A fucking mistake, if you ask me and yet, here we are.” he said, his words forming around the cigarette. With a sigh, he breathed out a plume of smoke and smoothed a hand over the dark hair of his closely shorn head. “The cartel has a problem.” 

Her eyes widened slightly, her form absolutely still in the wake of his reply, the tension radiating from her in waves. After an airless moment, she seemed to come back to life, pushing herself back into her chair as if distancing herself could help her escape his words. “Too bad for the cartel. Don’t see how that has anything to do with me.” 

He huffed as if agreeing but pressed on. “Then let me continue. Everything was fine until a few moons back. Business as usual. But then, this new product shows up on the street.” he shrugged one shoulder, pulling the cigarette from his mouth to breathe out another lungful of smoke. “Normally, I don’t care one way or another what people decide to go for, we’ve all got to have our vices but this shite…” he shook his head, looking off across the crowded bar, his gaze going distant. Aislinn watched the slip of his mask with all the cautious interest one afforded a rattler in the desert. “This shite messes people up good. Plenty of them don’t come back from it. We can’t have that. Say what you will, our stuff will show you a good time, sure. But what good would it be if we kept knocking off our customers?” 

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me.” 

“We don’t know where this garbage is coming from. We can’t even find out which of our rivals is making it. Not without poking our noses where they’ll be seen and sparking some sort of war. And no one has time for that shite. We’re here to do business.” 

Business. At the end of the day that’s what it always came back to for Sterling. How would some action or event affect the health of the business. At least he was still reliable in that regard. She crossed her arms defensively over her chest as she put the pieces together. 

“So you want-”

“Not me. The cartel.” he interrupted with a razor edged smile that was anything but friendly. 

“So, the cartel wants me to go poking my nose around in its stead. Why, on the Twelve’s green Eorzea, would I do anything so stupid? This still doesn’t sound like my problem.” 

He shook his head. “Maybe not. But I can tell you the people getting hooked on this new product are mostly refugees. You cut ties and run like there’s no tomorrow but surely you remember your own people?” he jabbed. Then, almost reluctantly, he dipped a hand into his coat and withdrew a folded piece of parchment. “But, if that’s not enough, this is a show of good faith from the cartel.” he ground out as if the very words were being pulled from him against his will. 

She warily stared at the parchment a moment after he slid across the table to her. Finally, she reached  out for it, carefully unfolding it. Its contents causing her heart to jolt suddenly and wildly against the bars of her ribcage. She let the paper drop from her fingers lest the shaking in her hands give her away. 

“This is a recission of my warrant.” she choked out.

“I know what the fuck it is.” he growled. "I know what favors we had to call in. I know who we had to bribe. I know how much gil we had to pay. I know all of it. That's a bloody expensive piece of paper. All of which should tell you how badly the lieutenants want this new drug gone. As far as Ul'dah is concerned, you're a godsdamned upright citizen."

She didn't bother to retort that's exactly what she was everywhere, ever since she had managed to leave that viper pit of a city behind. Her lungs seemed to be filled with shards of glass, each inhalation hurt. She felt his sharp gaze on her, and knew he saw every twitch, every move that gave her away.

"I am also supposed to convey the cartel's apologies concerning the earlier behavior of their agent. Me. I was acting outside their knowledge." Sterling spat, somehow turning the apology into a curse.

She stared at him, almost dumbfounded by the words. The cartel had very clearly put him on a leash. She found she had no pity for whatever they had done to bring him to this moment, though she could guess it had been terrible. Staring down at the paper once more, she considered all he had told her. She well remembered what the life of a refugee had been like. How hopeless it had seemed at times, how desperate, how some days she was almost certain she would never crawl her way out, that the gnawing hunger and the flea-ridden, one room hovel would be the rest of her existence. She couldn't begrudge anyone looking for an escape from that life, no matter how short lived. But if what Sterling said was remotely true, this new drug was far more dangerous than a simple escape.

Nymeia's blood, was she actually considering stepping foot back in Ul'dah? 

"I need to think about this." She said quietly. 

"Of course you do." He sighed, dropping his hand heavily to the table. "Anybody ever tell you, you think too much? We just want to know where the hells this drug is coming from. That's it. -If- you're so inclined to help out, we got word an alchemist recently showed up injured at some bleeding heart's clinic on the outskirts of the city, where the refugees camp. We think the chemist knows something about the drug. Again, we can't go poking our noses around without drawing attention. But you can."

"Some bleeding heart?" She said, needing clarification. For Sterling, anyone with a drop of empathy in their veins was a bleeding heart.

Sterling shrugged. "Healer type that works around the warrens. Ask around." He pushed back from the table and rose from his seat in one, smooth motion. "Decide quickly. I can't go back without an answer one way or another."

She tipped her head back to look up at him, the flat expression on her face conveying how very little she cared about the fact he might have to wait around a bit. 

For a moment he looked as though he might say something but then, he shook his head sharply and simply walked away.

[inquisitorinquisitor]

Commission: Grayza

Commissioner: Anon.

My first Commission! Hehe

Pairings: GrayxErza

Along with some BrOtp with other people or mentioned possible couples. Enjoy.

It was supposed to be a simple, simple, simple recipe.

Just a simple recipe.

A strawberry shortcake recipe.

Gray did not understand where he went wrong. One moment he had placed the cake in the oven and he turned around to make the frosting when the smell of something burning entered his nose. Quickly turning around to see that smoke was trying to escape the oven. When he went to open the oven door, he burned his hand and smoke filled the entire apartment when he opened it.

The Ice User quickly found a fire extinguisher and fired at the oven. Once he managed to clean up the oven in an attempt to figure out what happened… Gray smacked his forehead when he realized the mold he had used was not meant to go into an oven.

While all of this was occurring, Gray forgot to turn off the hand-held blender that was still in the bowl. The blender shook enough that it fell over and splatted cream, sugar and butter all over the kitchen while Gray attempted to clean up the oven.

Why was he doing all of this?

His and Erza’s first anniversary is coming up and Gray wanted to bake a cake. So far… it was not looking good, not for him, his kitchen and cooking appliances. This was his fifth attempt on making the pastry and it all had similar results.

The first attempt, it actually turned out great, but it had so much sugar that the taste taster had to see the Old Hag for a remedy. Which still reminds Gray that he’ll have to face a very pissed off Lighting Dragon Slayer later that week…

Second Attempt, never in his life did Gray ever see cake bounce…

Third attempt, managed to convince the taste taster to give him another try… now she has to broken tooth. Oh, he’s going to get his butt handed to him but dammit! This cake needs to happen!

Fourth attempt… Let us not talk about that one.

The fifth attempt, this attempt… wrong mold. Just the wrong mold.

Gray raised his hands into the air cursing out the First’s name in vain. His oven is beyond use now, he’s out of ingredients and is girlfriend is due to arrive back at the Guild by the end of the day.

Of course, he had the opportunity to just buy a cake.

No.

That will make things to easy and impersonal.

Gray decided to make a strawberry shortcake himself.

If only he listened to his friends. Go buy a cake. Not be bothered with the hassle. Erza will not even know the difference. The main difference would be the price tag. So, here’s Gray trying to recreate that ridiculous cake to no avail. With the amount of ingredients, he’s spending to make this cake would amount in buy the damn cake itself.

“Dammit… This did not go as planned.” Gray muttered to himself while he took off his jeans and ring out the extinguisher foam and what was supposed to be frosting. With a frown, he looked over at his wallet that he placed on the table and did a mental calculation of how much he had left in there. It was not looking good for him. “I should have just bought that dammed cake to begin with.”

Some time later…

“WHY ISN’T THIS WORKING!!!”

Lucy and Levy slowly edged away from Ezra as she attempted to clothing from scratch. Erza had actually arrived back in Magnolia Town last night with bundles of fabric in hand and ensured no one knew of her arrival. The only ones that knew of her arrival were mainly the ladies in Fairy Hills… as Erza did not bother to keep quiet of her frustration of making a set of clothes for Gray and Lucy. The latter was there to talk to Levy and they heard curses form Ezra’s room. They investigated and well… the entire room had what looked to be unfinished clothing, ripped cloth and several sewing machines thrown around broken.

So far, from what Lucy took note of, several of the pieces Erza attempted to do were done in the wrong sizes, sewn too close to the edges and the wrong material. Two pieces, what assumed to be a buttoned up was done in denim while a pair of jeans was created in statin. They look amazing, but from the Celestial Mage imagined what was wrong with it, wrong material… and uncomfortable.

“Dammit!!!!” Erza cursed out as she accidently sewn over her pointer finger. In frustration, the Requip Mage picked up the sewing machine and chucked out across her room and scaring her occupants. When Erza saw that she had company, her entire expression to one of shock and dismay. “Er… Hi guys… hehe…heh.”

“Here I thought Gray was having problems with his anniversary gift…” Levy whispered to Lucy, watching Ezra looking for a first aid kit for her wound.

“He still is having problems, he came to me and Natsu to see if he could borrow some cash…and out kitchen.” Lucy whispered back defeatedly, shaking her head at the memory. Gray arriving at her apartment only wearing soaking and stained jeans, carrying grocery bags and Natsu following him, whom was laughing nonstop. She took pity on the Ice Mage but threatened if he destroyed her kitchen that he will owe her three months rent. That only seemed to depressed Gray even more.

“Please tell me you did not allow that to happen with Natsu under the same roof?”

“I had to bribe him with a promise of taking him out for breakfast tomorrow.” Lucy face fell at the thought of having to buy Natsu breakfast tomorrow. To top it off, at a buffet. There goes this months rent. “At least Happy won’t be there…”

“Why are you two here?”

Levy and Lucy nearly jumped into the air in complete freight, temporarily forgetting they were still in Erza’s room. “Er….”

“Well?” Erza huffed, she had managed to unsewn her finger and sanitized it before putting on a bandage. She looked around the room to see the mess she had created and inwardly wondered how much fabric she had left… and if any of the sewing machines where still usable.

“Well… ah…” Levy looked up at Lucy and elbowed her for help.

“Ah!” Lucy glared at Levy momentarily, before she looked back at Erza with an uneasy laugh. “We heard noises coming from your room… and we thought you were still on a mission?”

Erza’s entire expression fell at the mention of the supposed mission. It was not even a mission, it was just her wanting to go out and buy fabrics to make Gray something for their anniversary. Which is proving to be more difficult than she originally thought. “How much have you seen?”

“Right when you had sewn your finger.”

“Ugh…” Erza fell to her knees and raised her hand to grip her hair tightly in frustration. “Nothing is working.”

“What are you trying to make anyway?” Levy asked, she picked up some of the pieces that Erza created to take a full look at the unfinished pair of pants. She sweat dropped when she saw Erza is now laying on the carpet, screaming into it.

“Clothes… I have been trying to make Gray clothes…” Erza moaned into the carpet, she looked up to see her friends flinch back when they saw her tears of frustration. “Nothing is working right.”

“Have you asked Juvia for help?”

“Why?”

Levy and Lucy looked at each other and let out a sigh.

“Juvia creates her own clothing, dolls, and have you even seen her room? She’s a natural!”

“She could help you… or you could hire her to make the clothing herself and pass it off as your own.” Levy said thoughtfully, she gave Lucy a pointed look when the blonde sent her a look of flabbergast. “Their date is tonight and she’s at her wit ends.”

“That’s actually a good idea.” Erza had stars in her eyes as she processed what Levy had just told her. That was a very good idea indeed. Now to see of the resident Water Mage is still in her room or at the Guild. Wait… then people will see her and inform Gray of her presence. She slowly got up from the carpet, her friends not seeing her as she began to loom over them. When they did, Levy and Lucy gulped when Erza grabbed hold of their shoulders. “I need you two, to do me a favor…”

Somewhere else in Fairy Hills…

To contrary to the beliefs of many, Juvia did not cause a scene when Gray and Erza announced they were seeing each other. No. None of that. She learned to love herself before she learned to love someone else. In that process she fully let go of Gray and Juvia felt such a heavy weight was gone off her shoulders.

Juvia and Gray actually became best friends, well… not in the same context as him and Natsu, but best friends! Almost exactly like her and Gajeel. Hehe.

A friendship Juvia is becoming to regret. She rubbed her cheek and stomach in pain, never again she is ever going to taste test any of Gray’s pastries. The first time around was just her helping him out. The second time… she should have learned from past mistakes. The resident healer managed to heal her tooth but it is still sore and was having trouble speaking because of it.

Even with the pain, Juvia continued to help Gray with his anniversary gift. She almost snorted seeing the Ice Mage climb through her window with cooking supplies in his arms. Once upon a time she would have squealed and faint at the sight. Now, she’s more annoyed and in pain.

“What does Gray-san want Juvia to make?” Juvia signaled for Gray to follow her to the kitchen area of her room.

Gray looked around the room to see that Juvia gotten rid of everything that had his face on it, except for the photographs him them along with their guildmates and friends. There were random pieces of yellow and purple stern around but not enough to make a massive statement. “I need your help making a cake.”

Juvia froze in her spot, she slowly turned around with a look that made Gray take several steps back. “Come again?”

Gray gulped. “I… need help making… a strawberry shortcake.”

Juvia took in a deep breath and quickly snatched the bags from Gray’s arms. “Leave. Juvia will do this on her own. Gray-san will simply her kitchen.”

Not even to bother with a retort, Gray ran towards the window and jumped out. He did not want to be at the end of Juvia’s anger and he already had go back to Lucy’s apartment to clean it up before she gets back home to see a huge mess he had created.

With a huff, Juvia stomped towards her kitchen and placed the bags on the counter. She nearly jumped out of her boots when she heard a knock coming from her door. Sighing, Juvia wondered who it was. Going over to her doo and opened to reveal Levy and Lucy, very suspicious looking Levy and Lucy. “Yes?”

“We need your help.”

“Well, Erza needs your help with Gray’s anniversary’s gift.”

Juvia took in a deep breath, she looked over where she placed Gray’s supplies warily. “What does Erza-san want Juvia to do?”

Date night…

Erza paced around her room for what felt like an eternity. Her hair was done, make-up to perfection and her favorite red dress adorned her body. She had decided to not where her shoes yet until it was time to go. After sending off her friends to have Juvia help her, they sent word via. Virgo that she has to pick up the gift from Juvia’s apartment before she had to leave to meet up with Gray in front of the Guild.

Looking at the clock Erza decided it was time to go.

Somewhere else…

Gray hung out of Juvia’s window, waiting for her place the blasted cake in an container for him to take. He once again looked around the apartment to see a boxed gift placed on top of a dresses. The Ice Mage had not gotten words that Laxus had returned and isn’t set to return for another half a month. Eh, whatever, not his problem anyway.

“Here.” Juvia handed Gray a white box that contained the strawberry shortcake. “Juvia hopes Erza-san loves it.”

“Thanks, Juvia.” Gray sent her a thankful smile before he dropped down towards the ground.

Juvia let out a sigh of relief and plopped herself down on a plush chair. Friends…

A knock interrupted her temporary peace.

“Come in.” Juvia called out, not even bothering to get up from her spot. She saw Erza popped her head into the room and started to sniff the air. Cold sweat dropped down Juvia’s neck, forgetting about the S-Class Mage knack for smelling out her favorite treat. “Erza-san, are you okay?”

“Did you make strawberry shortcake?” Erza asked with hearts in her eyes.

“I-I made some for lunch.” Juvia squeaked out, a thought ran passed through her mind. “I gave what was left to Levy and Lucy.”

Erza made a mental note of that and looked around the room to find what she assumed to be Gray’s gift. “Thank you, Juvia.”

“Erza is most welcome. I hope you have a goodnight.”

“Thanks!”

Erza took the gift and ran out of the room and Fairy Hills towards the Guild. The sound of her heels clicking against the ground could be heard around the star filled sky. Stress no longer present in her system and only giddiness ran through her system.

It took her around twenty minutes to arrive at the Guild and Erza quickened her pace when she saw the familiar silhouette of her boyfriend. The closer she got to him, a familiar smell filled her nose that caused her to think back at Fairy Hills.

Gray watched Erza come closer to the Guild, at that moment he could not but feel he had won the lottery. For the first time in his life since the death of his parents and teacher, he could finally get close to someone without the fear of them dying in front of him. In truth, Erza is by far the most powerful person he had ever met and is breaking down his wal-Why does that gift look familiar?

Erza and Gray stood in front of each other, staring at each other’s respective gifts questioningly. They both had a feeling where they attained the gifts but kept silent. Should they bring it up? Maybe. Are they? No. Neither of them wants to explain why they went to their common friend for help when they could not do something on their own. Too much pride.

Taking the lead, Gray held out his gift to Erza. “Happy First Anniversary, Erza.”

“Happy First Anniversary, Gray.”  

[sparkleywonderful]

Prince of Hope: Ch 17

Part 17 of The Prince of Ice series, a retelling of Heir of Fire from Rowan’s point of view.

Parts [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 14.5 ] [ 15 ] [ 16 ] [ 17 ]

AO3

My mate, my beautiful mate and you are the first person that has me want to climb out of the darkness (c35.p301)

- - - - - - -

He could hear her approaching. For all his internal conversations today, the conversations with the old man, the fight with Aelin, the hope, her approach agitated him.  

And he understood why. He was angry with her for losing hope, for leaving her people, and forsaking her duty to protect.

“What?”

She opened the door and just stared at him like this was the first time she actually looked at him, saw him.

“What do you want?”

“I thought you might want this.”

She tossed the tin of healing salve he had given her that first day. He almost laughed at the reversal of their situation.

“I deserved it.” And he did, he almost failed to protect her.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t feel bad.”

Turned the tin in his hand. For her hard exterior under it was a heart.

“Is this a bribe?”

“Give it back, if you’re going to be a pain in my ass.”

“You could heal yourself, you know. Heal me, too. Nothing major, but you have that gift.”

“It’s—it’s the drop of water affinity I inherited from Mab’s line.”

“My mother told me that the drop of water in my magic was my salvation—and sense of self-preservation.”

“I wanted to learn to use it like the other healers—long ago, I mean. But never was allowed to. They said … well, it wouldn’t be all that useful, since I didn’t have much of it, and Queens don’t become healers.”  

He was reminded that she was once a little girl that dreamed, and not to become a queen, but to be a healer. Like himself she was raised for a position, what they wanted did not matter, they had a larger responsibility than their dreams. He looked at her hands, the promise she had made to free a kingdom.

Until now he had no idea how to give a person hope, to free a kingdom to keep her word she would need to train. He could help her become a warrior of legends. Greater than an assassin.

“Go to bed. Since you’re banned from the kitchen tomorrow, we’re training at dawn.”

That look of helplessness slammed into him, that longing.

She has no hope left in her heart.

“Wait. Shut the door.”

There was something else he could give her, understanding. He could not look at her, he could not handle the pity she would give him, but he could tell her.

“When my mate died, it took me a very, very long time to come back.”

“How long ago?”

Her voice said it all, she understood what it meant to lose a mate.

“Two hundred three years, twenty-seven days ago.”

He turned towards her, waving his hand towards his tattoo.

“This tells the story of how it happened. Of the shame I’ll carry until my last breath.”

She was not alone in the shame she felt, this is how he could give her hope.

“Others come to you to have their own grief and shame tattooed on them.”

“Gavriel lost three of his soldiers in an ambush in the southern mountains. They were slaughtered. He survived. For as long as he’s been a warrior, he’s tattooed himself with the names of those under his command who have fallen. But where the blame lies has little to do with the point of the markings.”

“Were you to blame?”

He was surprised by her question, he felt it was an obvious answer, but to her it was not.

“Yes. When I was young, I was … ferocious in my efforts to win valor for myself and my bloodline. Wherever Maeve sent me on campaigns, I went. Along the way, I mated a female of our race. Lyria,”

“She sold flowers in the market in Doranelle. Maeve disapproved, but … when you meet your mate, there is nothing you can do to alter it. She was mine, and no one could tell me otherwise. Mating her cost me Maeve’s favor, and I still yearned so badly to prove myself. So when war came calling and Maeve offered me a chance to redeem myself, I took it. Lyria begged me not to go. But I was so arrogant, so misguided, that I left her at our mountain home and went off to war. I left her alone,”

“I was gone for months, winning all that glory I so foolishly sought. And then we got word that our enemies had been secretly trying to gain entrance to Doranelle through the mountain passes.”

“I flew home. As fast as I’d ever flown. When I got there, I found that … found she had been with child. And they had slaughtered her anyway, and burnt our house to cinders.

“When you lose a mate, you don’t …”

He took a deep breath, remembering those first years, the sudden loss, the despair, the hopelessness.

“I lost all sense of self, of time and place. I hunted them down, all the males who hurt her. I took a long while killing them. She was pregnant—had been pregnant since I’d left her. But I’d been so enamored with my own foolish agenda that I hadn’t scented it on her. I left my pregnant mate alone.”

Recognition flooded her eyes, she understood the words she had said to him had caused him to snap.

“What did you do after you killed them?”

“For ten years, I did nothing. I vanished. I went mad. Beyond mad. I felt nothing at all. I just … left. I wandered the world, in and out of my forms, hardly marking the seasons, eating only when my hawk told me it needed to feed or it would die. I would have let myself die—except I … couldn’t bring myself …”

“I might have stayed that way forever, but Maeve tracked me down. She said it was enough time spent in mourning, and that I was to serve her as prince and commander—to work with a handful of other warriors to protect the realm. It was the first time I had spoken to anyone since that day I found Lyria. The first time I’d heard my name—or remembered it.”

“So you went with her?”

“I had nothing. No one. At that point, I hoped serving her might get me killed, and then I could see Lyria again. So when I returned to Doranelle, I wrote the story of my shame on my flesh. And then I bound myself to Maeve with the blood oath, and have served her since.”

She looked at him like he held the answers to the world. THe answers she needed.

“How—how did you come back from that kind of loss?”

He thought for a second, was he back? Functioning yes, but back from that dark frozen abyss? The nightmares plagued him nightly. He alienated his family. Lorcan and Gavriel were the closest fae he could consider a friend.

“I didn’t. For a long while I couldn’t. I think I’m still … not back. I might never be.”

He did not even know where to start, what it would mean to be back. No one had understood that loss, not until this girl. This girl had loss her parents, kingdom, a friend and a lover. She had no one left. Hope, she was not the only one that needed hope. She made him feel, unlocked the feelings he had frozen within himself. Somehow this girl was his hope, deep down he cared more for her than he should.

There is nothing that I can give you.

Nothing I want to give you.

You are nothing to me.

I do not care.

Lies. Such lies, because deep down he knew she was something to him. Since the first time she stuck her tongue out at him, he knew that somehow this girl was his hope, deep down he cared more for her than he should. His ice danced with her fire, underneath it all there was a yearning his magic refused to reject.

“But maybe . . . maybe we could find the way back together.”

“I think, I would like that very much.”

“Together, then.”

“Together.”

And somewhere far and deep inside him, the ice began to crack.

- - - - - - -

Parts [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 14.5 ] [ 15 ] [ 16 ]  [ 17 ] [ 18 ] [ 19 ] [ 20 ]

AO3