#and yes this is me thrashing his knight outfit

[hesperidia]

we all like to see Aku as this edgy goth-y guy just because he looks like the reincarnation of a victorian urchin that made it to high society just to fall from grace and die of tuberculosis at the ripe age of 21 but it's canon that he dresses like that bc that's what the pm gave him as clothes, we don't know if he even likes that kind of trad-goth fashion, he is not a person who acts a lot on his own desires (and that would include self-expression i think)

so it's completely possible that he actually does not care about fashion at all, he would wear a potato sack if it was comfortable to him and i love that for him let him have a horrible sense of style

[kkysolo]

Separate / The Cultist

And Maker, the way it rushes through him. This feeling of complete and utter adoration, of peace, of serenity, of love . He’s never thought it possible, never thought his devils would retreat for long enough to allow him to feel something so beautifully strong, so consuming . His head tips down to rest against yours, relief flowing through every cell of him. 

A/N: Chapter Nineteen of The Cultist translated into Kylo’s perspective (with an extra scene as he prepares for the ceremony). For this lovely anon. Thank you so much for this idea, it’s entirely to your credit. I usually write in second person omniscient, and I’m not sure why the last chapter didn’t see much of Kylo’s perspective, if I’m being honest. So, here you are. Also, I was listening to Separate by PVRIS while writing this and may have shed a tear. So it goes. Please heed the ao3 tags. Also, I realise we’ve been a little inundated with The Cultist content recently. We can take a break if it’s a bit overwhelming. 

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Ben Solo/Reader (female) Setting: Modern AU, cult setting. Warnings: For this piece: memories of past suicidal ideations, separation anxiety, panic attacks, violence, emotional anguish and physical abuse (toward Kylo, not reader, and not from reader), arranged marriage, force dyad. Please see the extensive list of warnings for The Cultist over on AO3. 

Available under the cut, and here, on AO3

Kylo Ren has felt panic before.

He’s felt it at night, before he falls asleep. When he’s stuck in that purgatory between a dreamstate and reality - alone with his demons, alone with himself.

He’s felt it in his dreams, when he chases a boy, a friend, Poe. When he screams to him that he’s sorry, so sorry, that he too hates who he has become. He’s felt it when he wakes, coated slick with sweat, heaving vomit all over his cot. 

It’s a feeling he knows well. But he hasn’t felt it in a while. Not since you. 

“You can’t separate us,” he’s deferring the inevitable, this he knows. His anger won’t shield him, it never has. And when Trudgen reaches for him, Kylo retreats. It’s an act of provocation he’ll surely pay for, but they can’t take him from you. It’s the one thing, he now realises, that he’ll resist. The one order he’ll defy. The one command he’ll ignore. Because he has to. Because he can’t leave you. “I’m not leaving her.” 

But Kylo Ren is not as robust as he thinks he is. His armour built of defiance and fury has faltered, and though he sees the Knight’s approach, though he knows they’re speaking, he can’t hear them. He can’t hear anything - just the sound of his breath as it heaves and burns in his throat. It’s caustic, it hurts. The thrum of his heartbeat rackets through his ears, and he can hear the blood rushing through his own veins. He thinks, for a moment, he might be sick, that he might vomit right there in front of them, in front of you. 

His chest heaves again. He feels like he might lose his footing. It’s as though he’s trapped between panes of glass, cornered in a prism that doesn’t quite feel real. But then it shatters. You’re in front of him now, and he’s hauled back to reality with so much force that it startles him. He gulps for air, gasping harshly as you attempt to find his eyes, hidden beneath strands of sweat-dampened hair. 

“Kylo? Can you look at me?”

He meets your gaze instantly, your voice his only tie to any semblance of coherence, to any semblance of calm. The Knight’s move slightly as they watch - the twitch of arms, the tilt of a head - and each movement frightens him. He braces himself each time, expecting to be ripped from you. No, they can’t take him. He needs to feel you, needs to anchor himself to you. 

“C-can I-” “Yes,” you cut him off, and he knows that you’ve heard him, heard the pleas that circle in his mind. “Of course.” 

He grasps for you like he’s never done for anyone, or anything. He’s not even sought a blanket in the dead of winter as quickly as he reaches for you now, his hands connecting with what feels like all of you at once. Arms, shoulders, wrists. He’s never felt so much of you. A hand grabs for yours, and he cradles it to his chest - an intrinsic action that he doesn’t quite understand himself. Something flashes across your mind, then, from yours to his. An infant with a blue blanket, cradled to his tiny face, wrapped around his delicate chest. He doesn’t understand it. Nor does he have the time to question it. Not when you could be ripped from him, or him from you. 

He brings you closer to him, his other hand lays firmly on your back to ensure that you stay. Right there. With him. 

“Y-you can’t take her from me,” he manages shakily through gritted teeth. His breathing hasn’t settled, despite his best efforts to control it. “You can’t.” 

He lifts his head and stares the Knight’s down with a feigned sense of determined revolt. Because he’s faltering. They know it as much as he does. 

“Kylo,” your voice captures his immediate attention, and his eyes connect with yours. “It won’t be for long, I promise.” 

“I don’t want to,” he’s ashamed, incredibly so, of the desperation in his voice. He’s been taught, for so many years, that such whiny behaviour is weak. The actions of a frail man, and not The Chosen One. “I don’t want to be apart.” 

“I know,” you keep your voice low, calm, steady. It soothes him, somewhat. “I don’t want to either, but when you see me again, it’ll be at the ceremony. You’ve been looking forward to that, haven’t you?”

He has. 

“It won’t be for long,” you repeat. “But it will be worth it, won’t it?” 

It will. 

And Maker, the way it rushes through him. This feeling of complete and utter adoration, of peace, of serenity, of love. He’s never thought it possible, never thought his devils would retreat for long enough to allow him to feel something so beautifully strong, so consuming . His head tips down to rest against yours, relief flowing through every cell of him. 

“And you know what?” His eyes flutter open at your words. “You’ll still be with me in here,” you press into his forehead a little firmer. “Even when we’re apart.” 

Relief gushes through him again, simply at the reminder of your connection, of your bond. He pulls your hand further into his chest, squeezing it softly in recognition. But before he can speak, before he can thank you, before he can say a single word, he hears him. 

“Ren,” Cardo. The brute. “Now.”

“Cardo,” Vicrul hisses. “He’s coming.”

“He’s not, he’s still standing there. Useless, as always.” 

Cardo lunges before Kylo has a second to react, ripping you from his grasp. His hands grip tightly around your arms, and as he tosses you to the side, Kylo collides with him.

“Don’t-” He pummels against Cardo as he grapples with him. “Don’t touch her.” “I just did,” he sneers. “What are you gonna do about it, Ren?” 

Despite his thrashes, despite his violent kicks and shoves, Cardo doesn’t relent. And though Kylo knows - as he always has - that he can win this fight, he doesn’t. But unlike before, it’s less out of fear, less out of terror of the consequences of his actions, and more for you. It would ruin him if you feared him again. He brandishes what little self control he has managed to retain, stifling himself as he’s hauled from your bedroom, from his haven. From you.

He’s being hauled to the showers. He knows this, knows the walk like it’s in his muscle memory. He’s not resisting anymore. He lets his feet fall into stride with the Knight’s, keeps his appendages limp as they guide him forward. He’s not sure if it’s giving up, or if it’s simply part of his routine, part of his body’s natural reaction to being guided down these corridors. The fluorescent lights and the green mold tinted hue to the dampened walls have a hypnotic effect, sending him into a state of obedience once more. 

“I’ve already showered,” he mumbles as they shove him inside the cubicle. Kylo’s panic bubbles precariously beneath the surface, his anxious heart still beating faster than it should. 

“Not well, obviously,” Vicrul grunts. “Your hair’s covered in sweat.” 

The other Knight’s have retreated to the sinks, leaving only Vicrul with him. Cardo, though, he stands by the door. Brooding, imposing. Watching. 

“I don’t know how to do it properly,” Kylo murmurs, his voice diminished to a state so quiet he can barely hear it. “How to clean it.” 

Vicrul scrubs at his scalp with force, not paying much attention to how his nails grate through his skin, causing it to bleed. Kylo doesn’t register the pain. 

“She’ll have to teach you, then, won’t she?”

“Teach me?”

“If you let her, I’m sure she will.”

Kylo imagines your hands in his hair, how gentle they’d be in comparison to this. Because you’re always gentle with him, he thinks. Far more so than he thinks he deserves. His panic dissipates with the thought of you, of your touch. Of your good touch. He reaches to you, then. Tentatively pulling at the tethers that bind you. When he feels you, when he feels how you tug back on that string, he breathes a quiet sigh of relief. You’re still here. You’re still with him.

When they force him down into the seat, the one that faces the mirror he so dreads, he’s plagued with memories of emotions he never thought he’d surpass. Memories of hoping the blade would slip, memories of praying that his body would bleed itself dry, right there on the cracked and dirty tile. Now, he hopes it doesn’t. Because he’s not finished here, not yet. Not now that he has you. 

“Here,” Trudgen holds a selection of unfamiliar dark fabrics on a hanger. “Put these on.”

“What are they?”

Kylo reaches out to run a finger across the stiff material. Instantly, he recoils. “I don’t know,” Trudgen grunts. “But you have to wear it. It’s your ceremony outfit.” Kylo winces. “It feels strange.” 

“Just put it on.” 

So, he does. And how it itches at his skin. How it stiffens at the elbows infuriates him, and the complicated nature of the shirt is perhaps the worst of all. He struggles with the buttons. He’s never worn anything with buttons. 

“Do you know how to tie this?” Trudgen holds out a crimson tie to Vicrul. “He obviously doesn’t.”

“No,” Vicrul shakes his head. Ap’lek, Kuruk and Ushar also shake their heads in confusion. “Alright,” Trudgen sighs. “So we don’t do the tie.” “He has to wear the tie,” Ushar hisses. “You’ll get us all in trouble for incompetence.” “What’s the point in doing the tie if it’s just gonna be hanging around his neck?” Trudgen exclaims, flinging the tie at Ushar. “We’re not doing the tie.” “What’s the purpose of it?” Kylo interjects, and Ushar glowers at him. “I don’t know, but you’re supposed to wear it, and we’re supposed to dress you.” “Just leave it,” Vicrul grits. “And stop bickering, we’ll be late.”

Kylo falls silent again as he’s dragged through the corridors toward the throne room. He tugs on your bond again as he walks, and he sighs contentedly when he feels you pull back. Still here. Still with him. 

“Will she be here?” He perks up, looking to Vicrul.

“No,” he grunts. “Not yet, anyway.” “But soon?” “Soon.” 

But soon isn’t soon enough. His panic, his anger rises once again, and he fears the worst - that Snoke has tricked him, that you were simply a ploy to trigger something deep within him, that you’ll be snatched away as quickly as you were gifted to him. The room seems smaller now than ever before, as he feels the walls begin to encroach on him. Brendol sits smugly off to one-side, awaiting Snoke’s arrival. His face, his ruddy, rounded face only infuriates Kylo further. He’s hysterical, now. He roars. 

The Knights are on him in seconds. 

“Stop,” Trudgen hisses. “Stop acting like a child.” 

Kylo thrashes furiously. He’s not sure he ever was a child. 

“Armitage has just left to retrieve her,” Vicrul says calmly. “She’s coming. She’s on her way.” 

Kylo’s chest heaves as he pauses, looking up at Vicrul hopefully. 

“She’s coming?”

“She’s coming.” 

He brings himself down from the ledge he so often seems to be dancing on, the ledge between fury and losing control. 

He lets Vicrul guide him to the centre of the room, where he’s told to wait. Because you’re coming. Because you’re on your way, because he’ll get to see you- The doors swing open, and Kylo feels you before he sees you. 

Feels your presence, one he wishes he could describe in a deft manner. One he wishes he could articulate. But when he turns, when he sees you, he loses all possibility of speech at all. 

Kylo is convinced you’re made of stars. You have to be. The way you glow, the way you shine - ethereal, celestial and durable all at once. Kylo doesn’t know these words, of course. Not yet, anyway. But you teach them to him, and when he looks back on this memory, those are the words he chooses. The words that fit you best. Because when he was a boy, he couldn’t rip himself from the stars. He was pulled to them, could never divert his attention elsewhere. And now, now that you’re coming to a halt right before him, he wonders if the stars could ever compare to you.

He releases the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, shakily composing himself. 

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and as he says it, he realises it’s the first time he’s said those words aloud. “Y-you’re so beautiful.”"

"Thank you,” you murmur, and he hopes that you feel it, how his admiration swells further and further each moment he’s around you. “You look great, too,” you smile, and Kylo blushes furiously. No one has ever said such things to him before. “I-I’ve never worn anything like this,” he mumbles, tugging at his cufflinks. “I don’t like it.” You giggle softly, and Kylo’s eyes come alive with the sound. He’ll never tire of it, he’s sure of that.

He barely registers Snoke entering the room, and is only pulled from the moment as he speaks - his tone booming through the mostly empty room. 

“Now,” his gravelly voice rips you from your moment. “Shall we begin?” Kylo has never felt excitement before, and doesn’t quite understand what it is that he’s feeling as the realisation sets in. It’s a ceremony. For you, for both of you. 

“Ren,” Snoke turns to him. “Take her hands.” 

Kylo does, though they’re trembling, and he grips your hands steadily in an attempt to calm you. He feels your anxiety, it shudders right through him, and he can’t stand it. Can’t stand the thought of you being afraid. He does something then, something he hasn’t done before. 

It will be okay.

He hopes you can hear him, hopes that you understand. Hopes that you believe him. 

We will be okay. 

Snoke speaks to regard you, and Kylo feels your irritation, your indignation, when Snoke addresses you by his branded name. Kylo recognises it, empathises with it in a strange sort of way. 

“And Kylo Ren, the Chosen One, the future heir of The First Order and the Earth itself, you’re brought here together by the pull of something cosmic. By the pull of the force. By fate. Forevermore will you be bound - through body, mind and soul. And now, by the power vested in me by the Force, by the Maker, I bind you together in matrimony,” Snoke regards you by that name once again, and Kylo feels a wave of resentment pass from you to him. “Do you accept?” 

The anxiety Kylo feels in his bones now is his, and it threatens to spill over once more, threatens to cause a calamity right here and now. He chews at his lip, and hopes, prays to the Maker that you want him, that you’ll keep him, that you’ll let him stay with you for as long as he’s alive. He’d stitch himself right into your soul, if he could. 

“I do,” you nod, squeezing lightly at his hands. He squeezes back, breathing shakily in relief. 

“Kylo Ren, do you accept?” 

“I do,” he nods vigorously, “I-I do.” 

“Very well,” Snoke grins smugly. 

Kylo knows what comes next. The panic rises again. 

“You may kiss her, Ren.”

Kylo’s brow furrows in frustration. Snoke has been over this with him, has explained to him what to do, but still, he frets. He doesn’t know how. He never once thought that he could touch another person with his mouth - though he craved it upon seeing you unexplainably, he never knew that he really could. 

You don’t have to. 

Your voice echoes through his mind, though your lips don’t move. He breathes out unevenly, swallowing thickly. 

I want to. He does. I don’t know how. 

He feels you squeeze his hands again reassuringly. 

That’s okay. 

Kylo compromises with himself, does what he thinks he can do. Something he craves, and has craved, for longer than he’d care to admit. Because since he first laid eyes on you, crumpled on the floor, it’s all his body could beg him to do. 

He leans down, and he’s aware that his face has never been so close to yours. Close enough to see every minute detail of your skin, every cell that constitutes your being. His eyes fall shut of their own accord, and his lips gently press to the skin of your cheek. It’s soft, so soft, and he leans further into the sensation. His veins feel alight with sparks of you. He never wants to be parted from your skin, from the stardust that ignites you. 

“My bride,” he murmurs against your skin. “My wife.” 

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Dirty and Useless (Part 6)

Summary: Jason Todd had always said there were only two types of cop; Dirty and Useless. So when Y/N comes along with a spunky partner and a laughable code name it’s safe to say they don’t exactly see eye to eye. But if they’ve got anything in common it’s their secrets. Both are hiding behind masks whether they know it or not. Will the Robin get the Nightingale to come out of the shadows? Pairing: Titans!Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 1707 Warnings: None.

Jason stared up into E/C eyes and swore that he would never see a sight as glorious as this. A beautiful H/C leaning above him, two unconscious henchmen somewhere behind them and-

Beep.

A still-active bomb apparently.

The woman sighed, running a hand across Jason's chest plate. For a split second, he was confused, then the R popped out and was flying through the air a moment later. It struck the bomb, cutting through several wires. The explosives gave one last beep and then the screen that read 00:02 spluttered to a stop. It was all far too close for the boys liking and exciting all the same.

"You called, bird boy?" The girl quipped.

Jason couldn't hide the grin that dominated his face if he tried, "Didn't think you'd answer, Nightingale."

"Fun fact; Male nightingales sing during the night to attract the female's attention," Y/N peered into the boy's eyes, tilting her head slightly, "Guess you sung loud enough Boy Blunder."

"I guess that's the charm of the Robin," He shrugged carelessly before looking down and finally allowing his shit-eating grin to fall into a frown, "You mind getting the chains off?"

Y/N made a good show of considering it before leaning down to whisper across the shell of his ear, "I think you should keep them on."

Jason froze completely under the woman's weight and he finally just how close she was. He could almost count the dents on the weaponised emblem embedded into her chest plate. It was a Nightingale midflight and would have been invisible against the dark shades of her outfit had the black emblem not been edged by red and bleeding gold. The swift contrasts between the abyss like black, the blood-red and glittering gold summed her up quite nicely. Or at least Jason had heard as much.

"Robin," The deep voice of Batman interrupted his gazing as the older man thrashed in his own chains. Either to look at Jason or to find some way to loosen the restraints, "Status report. I can't see, what's going on over there?"

Jason felt the moment her body stiffened but didn't anticipate the chains falling away when she moved to her feet. It was only then that the boy wonder realised that she had moved one arm from beside his head to pick the lock binding the thick metal around him. It didn't surprise him however when the girl made no move to help Batman, so he set about doing it himself.

"I called in a friend, I wasn't sure she'd come but-" He glanced over his shoulder as she pulled the R from the tangled wires that had been a bomb. "Wait. How did you know how to do that?"

"Disarming the bomb or the perfect shot thing?" She moved behind him, even as he continued to pick the lock around Batman. Y/N slipped her arms around his back and pressed the R back into place. It was a strange move but Jason had no doubt with this girl that it had been purposeful and calculated. He wondered what had changed with the girl that she had become so friendly with him.

Jason had to pointedly clear his throat and avoid eye contact with his mentor as he answered, "All of it. Usually takes us a while and even then we're paying attention. You just threw it."

"Would you be upset if I said luck?" He gapped at her, "Kidding! I've been disarming the Joker's bombs since before I could walk and the aim thing is just a lot of practice."

"Robin, who is this?" The caped crusader asked a dangerous edge to his tone as he examined the girl.

Y/N to her credit didn't flinch under the famous BatGlare™ but that was probably because her steely gaze was eerily similar. It was a Wayne thing then. With a dismissing roll of E/C eyes, Y/N clapped her hands together twice. For a moment the men were utterly confused at the girl's strange actions and then her suit started melting off of her.

It took only a moment for her to be left in dark blue jeans and a black leather jacket. Black riding gloves - that the rest of her suit had melted into - and her elegant mask were all that was left of the Nightingale. Though with a swipe of her hand, like she was wiping sweat from her forehead, her mask melted too. The feather from behind her ear joined the mask leaving only Y/N, her Nightingale gloves and a red-black ear cuff.

"It's a new suit design," Y/N answered the unasked question. "Nanotechnology mixed with Dyneema SB61 plastic - stronger than Zylon fibres and lighter too - as well as a small spell from a Lord of Order and maybe a tiny bit of stolen alien tech."

"That's illegal you kno-"

"Can I have one t-"

The dynamic duo slowly turned to face each other. While Batman painted the perfect portrait of annoyance, Jason wore an indignant look as if to ask; Why can't my suit be that cool? A silent argument passed between the two as both vigilantes fought to get their way. Inevitably Jason heaved a deep sigh and sent Y/N a look that might have been a mock expression of his mentors.

"Thank you for coming all this way and helping us," The Dark Knight gave her a tight smile. "But we have it from here Miss..."

A shrill ring interrupted them. Y/N turned away from the two famous Gotham icons, a finger raised in a 'one-minute' motion. A startled look flashed across the older man's face as he watched the girl ignore him. Y/N pressed the phone to her ear without a second glance at the caller ID.

"Agent Wayne,"  She peered out of the large familiar window over her home. "Please place your threat, compliment or request."

A tired voice rumbled back through the receiver, "Snarky as always Y/N."

"Melisa," Y/N rolled her eyes, "The hell are you doing up? It's like, the middle of the night."

"Speak for yourself."

"Touché," She admitted, glancing over her shoulder at the clock on the opposite wall, 1:14. "Still, if you of all people are awake it's gotta be something bad. So lay it on me, Sparrow."

"We have a new mission," Melisa spoke slowly, deliberately, something unusual for the spunky girl who had once held a goldfish in her mouth on a dare. "It's a bounty hunter job, they're offering a lot of money for it. Like money, you would kill for."

Jason watched over the girl's shoulder as a grin bloomed across her reflection's face. It was the sort of smile that villans gave when they knew something that the hero didn't. Excited and hungry and deadly. But then the faint indistinguishable voice on the other end of the call said something and that smirk shattered.

"Are you sure?" Y/N blinked several times, wondering if she'd heard right.

Melisa gave a sharp inhale of breath, "That's what they said."

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose in deep thought. Before turning on her heel and marching to the computer perched on the beautifully carved desk. The Sparrow placed her phone down, pressing the speaker icon. She spun herself into the plush chair and began typing. Password. The girl didn't bat an eye as she punched in the access code. Jason didn't really follow what she did from there but it looked complicated, to say the least.

When Y/N finally stopped clacking away at the crisp keyboard she turned to the phone. It had been silent the whole time as if not wanting to interrupt her. Jason wondered if the Sparrow on the other end of the phone - probably still in Star City - knew what Y/N did at night. What she had done for most of her life. Had Y/N told her some excuse or that she was off to save his ass?

Y/N's finger tapped along the Enter key but didn't press any harder, "Look, Mel. We have two options in this, we find the bounty or, I can wipe all information from the FBI database and we never speak of it again."

"It's not my choice," Melisa exhaled slowly, "You're the one that knows them. Do what you have to, I'm with you no matter what. Just ask yourself; What's right for you?"

"I don't know," She groaned, fingers hovering over that Enter button. "Tell me not to do it. Tell me we need the money or that he deserves it."

"Does he?"

Jason held his breath as the decision - that made little sense to him but seemed important - was made. He peeked at the computer monitor curiously. A handful of case files from the FBI database were open along with another tab that read 'Are you sure you want to delete this?' Y/N looked anything but sure. She was glaring holes into that seemingly inconsequential sentence.

Jason's eyes scanned the files swiftly as Y/N squirmed in the huge office chair. It was then that he noticed the pictures. Him. Not even Robin, it was Jason Todd - in all his unmasked glory. There was a bounty on him and not a few feet from him Y/N was contemplating whether to turn him over. He squinted in an attempt to read the charges, to figure out why the gods damned FBI wanted him of all people.

WANTED

Jason Peter Todd.

Possible Witness of the Robin Ambush - Placed at the crime scene by DNA.

Last known location: Gotham City.

Several accounts of assault, petty theft, forgery, resisting arrest.

Ward of Bruce Wayne.

The boy was only snapped out of it when Melisa asked, "Can you in good conscious arrest him, knowing he's the... you know who. He hurt me and those other officers, yes, but he does a hell of a lot of good too. Is it worth the money? Does he deserve it?"

"No." And just like that, the files were gone.

"Then I'll see you when you get home," A snort and then teasingly Melisa added. "Nightingale."

Y/N bid the girl farewells, hung up and turned back to the bat and robin, "Sorry, as you were saying."

[inviouswriting]

I'll be writing some of the regular reader stuff later tonight. For now I'm focused on my writings. What I want to write for a bit. I do have Urianger and Estinien stuff planned for tonight.

Aymeric x Kiya smut

Another chess match between them, Aymeric had settled on challenging her. He wanted to secure another win against her. He knows of her wicked intelligence even now as he watches the board for a way to take lead.

Kiya is focused on his face, smiling all the while she takes his pieces. He holds a certain concentration but she usually wins when he least expects it. Much like their love life. She had invaded his very life and conquered his heart.

Aymeric takes one of Kiya's hands in his, something he does when he knows he is losing. To try and distract her. Those charming blue eyes lock with her rich emerald green ones.

"Mercy?" Aymeric brings her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to it.

"I thought knights don't yield?" She taunts playfully, her tail taps at his leg. Aymeric chuckles light caught with his own words used on him.

"You are right, but you are no ordinary foe of mine." He presses more kisses on her fingers and Kiya playfully catches his bottom lip with her fingers and tugs just enough. Earning a heated stare, he chases her fingers with a nip grazing skin with teeth.

"How am I not ordinary?" Kiya leans in, almost forgetting it is her turn, she makes her move.

"Check~" her voice is teasing, and she is sitting so close to him. She feels a foot along her leg. She starts to take her hand back when Aymeric makes his move on the board removing the check.

"You are my beloved. Beautiful and dangerous together." Aymeric says, his freed hand takes the end of her lion like tail. He sees the instant reaction of her freezing up when his fingers play at the very end of it. The tufted end of her tail is like soft silk to the touch. He has often petted her tail alone and knows how quickly she is weak in her knees.

"A-Aymeric that is cheating!" She reminds him that this affection is to be won. Aymeric only pets the end of her tail a little more.

"I'm not cheating. Unless you are enjoying it." A wicked smirk. He was definitely losing. And Kiya seals her victory with her queen taking his knight.

"Checkmate~ ah!" Kiya as soon as she declares her win, Aymeric is pulling her into his lap and kissing her full. His hand slipping up beneath her skirt.

"I think I have a good reward for a winner like you." Aymeric ghosts kisses along her lips and cheek. Kiya shudders on his lap when his fingers tug the base of her tail following the silky fur down to the end.

Kiya's senses dull out, he never fails to make her head cloud and her body ache for him. She had won a battle on a board, but lost a war of wills in his lap.

Aymeric whispers things into her ear and gently tugs the end with teeth delicate avoiding the halonic earring on it.

"Say, my love, would you indulge me in something?" That tone he uses, the one like when he asked if she would fight on his side in the grand melee, a soft voice. Kiya looks up into smoldering blue eyes. She is lost specially when his fingers that were under her skirt grip her thigh and pushes her hips to his.

"Aymeric?" They had their match in his office. Using it to wind down a little between stress, now Aymeric was more than fired up to do something even if he lost to her.

"Please?" He pecks a series of kisses on her lips. The hand at her thigh dips between them and toys with her on the outside of her smallclothes. The combination of his words, kisses and hands get her.

"Yes." Ahe has no idea what she agreed to, but she trusts him to know it won't be anything she dislikes.

"Thank you, you'll like it. Trust me." Aymeric moves her from his lap to sit on the edge of his desk. Aymeric gets up from his chair to go lock the door to the room and remove some of the outer armor and robes, leaving himself in the blue under shirt and pants he wears beneath it all.

Kiya sees him kneel down and takes her Ironworks boots off. She had worn one of her favorite outfits for visiting him. A songbird outfit despite the cold in Ishgard. He kept his office warmer for her. She wore the slip skirt underneath.

Aymeric begins to tug those off of her leaving her bare under the skirt for his eyes to devour. He instead starts with giving her a full kiss.

Kiya parts her lips and a tongue delves into her mouth to lift hers to his. She tilts her head a little and deepens the kiss, her tongue finding it's way to his mouth. Their kiss far from innocent now. Not with the way his fingers work the front placings of the dress to bare more of her skin for his hands to roam over.

Aymeric leans her back on his desk till she is laying across it. Kiya feels hands tug open the front after the buttons were undone. The bralette she wears under tugged down and gloved palms press to her breasts.

"A-ah! Aymeric!" Kiya moans out into the kiss, and Aymeric is quick to silence her, not wanting the wrong ears to hear them. She had forgotten where they are.

"How about a new little game between us? You, under all circumstances cannot moan or shout. While I torture you teasingly. You get three chances, if you raise your voice too loud three times. I will have my way with you." Aymeric teases her nipples as he talks to her. His eyes gleam playful to her. He tugs off his gloves resting them on the desk near her.

"And if I succeed?" Kiya bites back a moan when he pinches just right to cause pleasure and tugs her up a little.

"Then when we get home, I will let you try anything new on me." Aymeric cups her full breasts in his hands and squeezes again. He enjoys the feel of them in his hands.

"You are not going to make this easy are you?" She asks, her answer is the devilish smile he gives her.

"Then you accept?" Aymeric asks lowering his head down to hers to kiss her when she agrees.

Kiya nods and they seal it with a full kiss again. Aymeric deepens the kiss to how they were moments ago. Kiya's mind swimming feeling all the passion backed in it.

She almost misses the hand trailing up her bare thighs and dance along the soft skin at the junction between thigh and groin. Her legs close on the hand and Aymeric slips his hand further down, fingers tracing the outer folds.

Kiya feels his fingers press along and pet her soft skin. He deliberately presses his middle into the crease as his hand cups her. Aymeric draws a whimper out of her. Not loud enough for him to remind her of her voice. He feels her already wet, as his finger teases the entrance.

"Hmm? Are you already this soaked?" He questions her. Kiya's face burns a little in embarrassment.

"Show me." Aymeric brings his other hand to part her thighs to get a better look of her. Kiya tries to press her legs closer together enjoying denying him a peak at first.

"Okay, then use your hands." Aymeric sits back he waits for her to oblige him. His own pants getting uncomfortable with how hard he is.

Kiya raises her legs a little and parts them. Aymeric sees the slit but not what he wants from her. He waits for her to catch on. Kiya covers herself with a hand then shyly parts her folds with her fingers.

Aymeric only sees just a little of her. He has seen and played with her more than enough.

"More. Open yourself up more to my eyes." Aymeric asks of her, he licks his lips at seeing her other hand going down her thigh and with both hands she spreads herself open for his eyes.

"There, now hold yourself like that for a bit. Do not remove your hands until I allow you to." He instructs her, Aymeric undoes his pants and shoves them down off his hips. More than too tight.

Kiya sees Aymeric lower his head down to her core, and feels him kiss her thigh. He mouths kisses along the inner thigh gracing Kiya's fingers with kisses as he passes them. He leaves a teasing lick at the top of her hood the covers her clit, circling the nub and ignoring it in favor of kissing her other hand down to her entrance.

"I still cannot see that well." He catches her face brightening and waits till she does what he wants her to do.

Kiya presses her fingers in enough and parts her folds more so he can see the hole more clearly.l, and how wet she is from the moisture on her fingers she makes sure her clit is exposed enough too.

"There we are. Enjoying this I see." Aymeric rewards her with a kiss on her slit pushing his tongue into her along side her fingers. His own fingers go to relieve her hand holding the hood up and rubs her clit in teasing circles.

Kiya makes her first sound, a loud enough moan and she bites her bottom lip after to stifle her sound. Aymeric already heard it, and leaves a smack of kisses on her thigh.

"What was that I heard? Remember you need to be quiet~ not that I blame you. You look like you are in delight though." Aymeric says while pressing more kisses along her folds, his tongue going back inside her.

His fingers teasing the nub above his mouth tweak it gently. Enough to draw a quiet moan out of her. Kiya thrashes her tail and feels Aymeric trail his tongue up to join his fingers teasing her. Languid licks from the hole up to her clit but not on it. He circles it with his tongue, ignoring it in favor of running his tongue on other spots available.

"Please, Aymeric... I am going insane!" Kiya's voice is quiet but pleading to him. Aymeric peeks an eye up towards her.

"Please what? You know by now, I cannot fulfill your desires without clear instructions." He is teasing her. The tip of his tongue dangerously close to the nub just teasing it with the heat of his tongue.

"Ah... Aymeric... please lick me..." she keeps her hands where they are. Remembering his words. Aymeric pulls his mouth away again and blows a hot breath on her core.

"Lick what? Here?" His tongue finds her fingers, cleaning them of her juices.

"Not there." Kiya catches his stare and his eyes bore into hers as he places another teasing lick along the outer fold just under her other hand till his tongue dips into that spot near her entrance.

"Here then?" Aymeric sees her legs shake when his tongue sweeps over the opening.

"A-ahah! Please! Aymeric!" She feels more circles even a stray hand to push two fingers inside enough for his tongue to push in again.

"Not there! Here!" Her thumb moves to press on her clit. Aymeric swats her thumb away.

"Say it, for me love. And keep your hands here, in fact. I want you to put two of your fingers inside and please yourself." Aymeric says, he places sweet kisses along her thigh and waits for her to comply. He presses fleeting kisses just to the nub denying it his tongue.

Kiya obeys his demand and moves her right hand to press her fingers in and starts to pump them gently. Aymeric watches her hand move, but waits for her to oblige the other request he made.

"Aymeric.. please lick my clit...?" She asks nicely, and Aymeric smiles sweet at her, the sweetness is betrayed by how hot his ice stare is.

"Is that all you want me to do is lick it?" Aymeric is close again to it, hot breath over the nub and his tongue sweeps over the top licking along where the hood is. He can feel the bundle of nerves hard.

"Oooh, you... tease me!" Kiya let's an exasperated sigh escape her, her fingers had stilled a bit inside her, Aymeric sees this and sits back denying her, again.

Instead he gives her a sigh, he arranges his sitting so his legs are more apart. Aymeric uses a hand of his own to stroke himself in slow pumps. He teases her with a sight she enjoys at the tip of his cock. Beads of precum.

"Aymeric! Please!" Kiya starts to sit up.

"Stay down. Lay your head back. Your fingers. Remember?" Aymeric says as he gets up from the chair and walks around the desk to the front where her head half hangs off it.

Kiya stays where she is to be, and watches him as he stands in front of her.

"Open your mouth." Aymeric instructs, and Kiya parts her mouth.

"Wider. You know how big I am." Aymeric is enjoying their fun and time like this. When kiya opens her mouth more for him. He guides his erection into her mouth. As he does so, he leans down over her. His mouth descending onto her aching clit pressing the flat of his tongue against it.

Kiya's moan is muffled around his cock and pushes her hips up to feel more of his mouth on her clit. Aymeric feels her suck gingerly, and lightly thrusts his hips to her mouth very aware to not gag her by accident.

Kiya continues to pump her fingers into herself and Aymeric watches them work in her.

Aymeric lifts her rear up a bit for himself, his mouth lavishing her clit with his tongue and sucks on the nub. He even runs his tongue down along her fingers buried inside.

Kiya feels a rush through her spine when Aymeric tugs her fingers out and replaces them with his own. His fingers alot longer than hers and a thicker able to simulate his dick easily.

Aymeric also switches it up to push his tongue again inside her. He feels her sucking harder, when he draws his hips back her tongue rubs across the tip of his erection before she swallows him back down.

Just when Kiya was teetering on that edge for release, Aymeric stops, he rests his head against her thigh, his fingers keep her folds parted as he watches the entrance twitch for him. He draws a sobbed moan around his cock. When she was quiet he pulls himself from her mouth but takes himself into his hand when he straightens himself up.

"Keep your mouth open, my love." He instructs her, he wasn't going to cum in her mouth yet. He wanted to spare his seed for inside her this round. He carefully runs the head of his cock around her lips.

Kiya feels the velvet soft of his skin against her lips and pokes her tongue out to touch it against just under the head. Aymeric let's her while he has his fun in teasing her this way.

"Tell me. What do you want me to do. Your mouth, or grind against your slit. Or would you rather I be inside you?" Aymeric asks as he gives her the option to suck on him.

"I want you inside me..." Kiya wants him in her. Her insides ached for it. She even moves her hands down to part her folds for him. Aymeric almost loses his composure with that sight of his beloved inviting him in such a lewd manner.

"Inside where. You have three options for me." He keeps up the game, he was already going to be inside her. He just wanted to tease her a bit longer.

"Inside my pussy." Her face burned saying it. But the effect it has on him. He always makes her say embarrassing things.

Aymetic walks back around the desk and reangles her on top of it to lay on the length of the desk. He climbs on top with her, and raises her hips to his. Using his fingers he parts her folds again and lines himself to her entrance rubbing just the head against her slit, bumping it against her clit then back down to barely push inside her.

The reactions he draws out of her. He enjoys seeing her face lit with pleasure. Kiya covers her face with her hands, his stare too intense specially when he has her raised in such a way. Aymeric takes himself into his hand and liken with her mouth, he runs the head along her entrance.

Kiya sobs out her third cry, she had let one out earlier that he caught but didn't remind her. Aymeric relents in his teasing seeing how she is covering her face.

"Kiya, my love. Look at me." His change in tone draws her out from behind her hands. Aymeric is smiling at her, he holds a hand out to her and she takes it lacing her fingers with his. Aymeric chuckles lightly and pushes into her drawing groans out of both of them.

He wastes little time in teasing her further and starts to thrust. Kiya sighs in pleasure, loud enough for his ears to hear her. Aymeric tugs her by her hand he has up into his lap. Kiya wraps her legs around his waist and once she is able to be at face level with him she kisses him deep. Aymeric returns the sweet kiss as he pulls her waist down on his.

They both release moans between the kisses she feels it more with him. Aymeric feels her labored breaths on hisbshoulders after they part from the kiss. Her sighs and moans getting louder and change to more needier. She was teetering on that edge again. A few powerful thrusts from him and she is squirming on him.

Kiya can feel him throbbing and focuses on squeezing him in time to the thrusts inside her. She feels his hands dig into her sides.

"Do that more love. Please. Almost there." His moans in her ear is enough encouragement for her to squeeze down on him again. Kiya6hands slip up into the back of his hair and grips unintentionally hard when his thrusts hit a particular spot inside.

"Kiya? Did that hurt?" Aymeric questions feeling her grip on his hair. His head follows back on the tug and starts to slow just in case.

"Don't you dare stop! That feels so good!! That feels so good!! You feel amazing!!" Kiya pants out and moans out at the last words. Aymeric feels her hands go down from his hair to his back digging her nails in.

Ayneric thrusts harder till his lover is in breathless pants into his shoulder and nails are leaving lines in his back.

Kiya tenses and her voice breaks when she reaches an orgasm. Her cries sobbed into his chest and shoulder. Aymeric feels her tighten on him and he is almost pushed out of her with how she cums against him. Aymeric sees her face, the glossy eyed stare, breathless and a sheen of sweat on her from their movements together.

Aymeric follows her not too long after, he cums just as hard inside her, and pushes through to seat himself as deep inside as he can get. He hears her sigh content in his arms.

Kiya pants against his shoulder. He had removed his shirt at the same time with his pants. Aymeric holds her against him nuzzling her face with his own.

"Feeling good?" Aymeric breaks the silence, and pulls her back to take in her blissed out expression. He had reduced her to her elated self. Normally he sees it when they're alone together in bed than his office.

"I don't think I can walk." Aymeric laughs a little, a bit of pride in himself for being able to make it difficult to walk for her. People will be able to tell she had been with him as she walked fine earlier.

"Want me to carry you?" He offers, and Kiya nods yes.

"In a bit though. I want to stay like this a little longer Aymeric." Aymeric smiles down at her and lays her back on top of his desk. He guides her legs apart so he fits between them. Aymeric enjoys the feel of her inside a bit longer till he pulls out when he knows she is uncomfortable even soft he is still a stretch to fit.

He splays loving kisses all over her face, shoulders, neck and ears. There isn't a spot he hasn't kissed on her. Kiya soaks up the affection happily, a sigh escapes when he had pulled from her. She ached to have him in longer.

"Did not have enough yet? Let us say... we get dressed long enough to home only to repeat this lovely event where you dont have to hide your beautiful voice. I think I want to hear it echo in our room." Aymeric sits up with her, and moves to sit in his chair noting the room a bit colder, the fire from the hearth behind was fading. He hands Kiya her clothes and watches as she is shaking to put them on. He will definitely have to carry her. Lest others gossip that Aymeric has sex with his wife in his office.

Once they were dressed for public eyes, and Aymeric spends the next several minutes tidying his desk up from fluids and scattered papers.

Aymeric collects his love into his arms and nuzzles her face with his again. He begins to carry her out of the room. Kiya is comfortable in his arms and rests her head against his chest ignoring people as they ask if she fell asleep.

It is a easy walk from the Congregation to their home. Aymeric leaves kisses all over her face when they get closer.

They are still young in their marriage together.

[gxldencity]

[S] The Charlatan: Attend a Pumpkin Party

The Halloween fic. 

This image seems more appropriate now.

I’ll just escort myself out.

tagging my enablers: @turians​ and @tavum​. 

This is going on the main tag. You all are gonna suffer with me a s my enablers encouraged this garbage. 

–

Tartarus hardly celebrated any festivities but tonight the club was a venue for a Halloween party-the first ever in Andromeda. Reyes declined the invitation. Halloween wasn’t a holiday he celebrated as a child. As an adult, he spent every 31st of October-not Halloween-preparing flowers with his mother for their dead relatives. 

And he had work to do. Kadara was always in need of fixing.

But Kian insisted or rather, he hauled him out of his private room to take his mind off work and enjoy the festivities. The Pathfinder was attending, and if the Pathfinder was there, Jean would be right behind.

They hadn’t seen each other in months.

So here he was, dressed as a smuggler from one of those old sci fi movies he saw once or twice. The outfit was the only one he found in the closet which looked tasteful.

The club was packed, more than the usual weekday night on Tartarus. Most of the Port would rather spend their night in Kralla’s song or at their homes. The slums were still dangerous at night even with the change of leadership. Tonight was different. Half of Kadara was here for the Halloween party.

Reyes sent a quick message to Jean. 

To: Jean Ryder

From: Reyes Vidal

Heard the Pathfinder was invited to the Halloween party at Tartarus. You coming along?

-R

To: Reyes Vidal

From: Jean Ryder

Yeah, we’re here. I’m with Gabby, if you wanna come find me. Look for her, she’s pretty damn obvious.

-Jean

In the mass of bodies thrashing on the dance floor, Reyes didn’t spot her or Jean anywhere. He waded through them, bumping onto ghouls and vampires, and one of the Pathfinder’s squad mates. 

Liam…Kosta was it? He was dressed in all blue: shirt, pajamas and a long hood which stretched all the way to the floor. The only non-blue item he wore was a pair of yellow shoes.

“If you’re looking for Jean, he’s that way with the Pathfinder,” Kosta said, pointing his thumb at the bar. He assessed Reyes’ costume, looking up and down at his form.

“I assume you’re Han.”

Reyes shrugged. “It was the only thing I could find. And you are?”

Kosta parted his lips but before he said anything, their angaran crew mate ran to him. He held a pair of horns which resembled a candy corn. 

“Do I have to wear these all night, Liam?” The angara asked. His usual blue rofjin was now black aside from the cobalt zodiac sign-Scorpio?-on his lapel.  

“Yes, you do Jaal,” Kosta placed the horns back on his head. “It’s part of your costume.”

The angara grumbled, “you humans and your strange holidays.”

Reyes slipped away from the two and made his way to the bar.

The Pathfinder was sat on a stool with Nyx and her twin. Her bright orange outfit glowed under the neon lights of the club. A stylized sun was on the centre of her chest, and her blonde hair was fastened with a gold headband. Beside her, Nyx wore the same candy corn horns like the angara. However, she didn’t wear any face paint. A green zodiac sign-Virgo?-was painted on her carapace.

And Jean was draped in red: shirt, a cape, the gear symbol on his chest, and pajamas? And sunglasses, he wore sunglasses.  With the sunglasses on, Jean looked different. Before, he was a nerd and now, he was a nerd trying to look cool with sunglasses.

“Are you supposed to be a knight?” Reyes asked. He sat on the stool next to Jean, and order his usual.

“No, I’m not” Jean said, “And what are you? A knock off version of yourself? You are a smuggler.”

Gabriela and Nyx laughed. Reyes frowned, he didn’t intend to be here and the closet was lacking in tasteful costumes. 

“I’m not the one wearing pajamas,” he shot back.

That earned him a scowl. Nevertheless, Jean was handsome. Different from his “just-got-out-of-bed” look Reyes was accustomed to for months. He might not be a knight but the costume suited him-a knight in pajamas. His knight in soft…armour.

“So…” Reyes began, “what are you all supposed to be?”

Both twins glanced at each other, waiting who would explain what the fuck they were supposed to be. Other than themselves in colourful sleepwear. 

Finally, Jean broke the silence. “We’re uh characters from…a…”

“A classic novel!” Gabriela piped in. “One of Jean’s favourites.”

She winked at her twin. “In fact, everyone on the Tempest is dressed as characters from this…” She paused, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Classic novel”

And it was true.  The human members of the Tempest Crew wore brightly coloured outfits similar to Gabriela and Jean’s. Each one had a different symbol on their outfits. Kosta he saw earlier. Their scientist now joined him on the dance floor. Her costume was a black dress with a white spiral on her chest. She wore a pair of glittering red shoes and…dog ears. 

Their engineer was playing poker at a table across from the bar. From under the table, Reyes noted that he wasn’t wearing any pants. Or he was but he didn’t consider tight spandex as pants. They were yellow like the rest of his outfit. 

Only Harper wore something different. She traded the colourful outfits for a sleek white dress and a pink scarf.

Meanwhile, the alien crew wore candy corn horns of various shapes. Some wore face paint, others didn’t. Yet they all wore similar costumes-a black costume, plain aside from a zodiac sign printed on their outfits.

Not only the Tempest crew, the club was filled with people dressed in similar costumes. A number of them were dressed as Jean’s character, he assumed. Some of them wore a different outfit from Jean’s knight costume.

The Halloween party had a theme. A theme Reyes missed due to his last minute decision to attend. A theme Jean didn’t tell him in advance nor asked him if he wanted to coordinate costumes.

Or this was a beloved novel Kadara loved. He wasn’t even aware Jean was into literature, or reading anything other than scientific documents.

The music in the club changed to an upbeat song. 

“I love this song!” Gabriela said, and she hopped off the bar stool, dragging Nyx with her to the dance floor.  

Now they were alone, Reyes asked. “So why didn’t you tell me before?”

“That we were coordinating costumes?”Jean quirked an eyebrow. “Thought you might not like it once you find out who you’re going as.”

“I’m not that difficult to please.”

“No seriously, if we were going to coordinate, you are going as him.” Jean tapped a key on his Omni tool. A holo of a grey skinned boy flashed from his Omni tool. The boy had candy corn horns and a black shirt with a zodiac sign the colour of his skin.

“I admit I don’t fancy covering myself in gray paint.” Reyes admitted. The paint would be hell to take off, and he had to return as the Charlatan the next day. “But I could wear the horns and the shirt.”

Jean laughed. “He’s not your type. Too angry.” He gestured at his costume. “This is more your type.”

“And I’m supposed to believe this is your type?” Reyes bumped his elbow into Jean’s arm. 

The song changed to a ballad, an old pop tune from the 21st century. The momentum slowed on the dance floor as patrons found a partner to dance with or retired to the bar.  Jean hopped off his stool. He bowed; his cape bounced when he lowered his upper body.

The gesture reminded Reyes of their dance in his private room.

“Want me to be your knight this evening?” Jean asked, offering his hand.

Reyes took it, and allowed Jean to lead him to the floor. “I thought you weren’t dressed as a knight.”

“He isn’t. But I can be one for you.”

A flush of heat burned in his cheeks. Reyes was glad the lights were dim so Jean didn’t see what he did to him.

Of course, Jean still couldn’t dance. Reyes was amazed he didn’t step on Reyes’ feet nor his cape in his poor attempt at leading him.  so Jean couldn’t see Of course, Jean still couldn’t dance. He was amazed Jean hadn’t stepped on Reyes’ feet nor his cape in his poor attempt at leading him.

They bumped into Gabriela and Nyx. Gabriela made a face at her brother who scrunched his face in return. She was about to make another gesture but Nyx whispered something in her ear. She blushed then Nyx led her away from the dance floor.

They were alone. Jean pulled him close until Reyes could leaned his head on Jean’s shoulder. Reyes missed this, missed being so close to him he felt his heartbeat on his chest. 

Tomorrow, they would part. And tomorrow, Reyes would look up at the stars and wonder if he would ever come back. 

Reyes pulled back, enough that he could look at his face. He slipped those stupid sunglasses off. They hid his eyes. 

When Jean didn’t complain, Reyes titled his head and pressed their lips together. Jean didn’t attempt to pull back, and say they were out in the open. He missed this, missed them too with the way his lips glided over his or how he wrapped his arms around him.

The song had ended when they broke, breathless and yearning for more. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Reyes linked their hands.

Jean nodded, squeezing his hand. 

“Yeah.”

[xiumin-on-this-shit]

All My Idols Ch 15: The Video

Sorry if this is too cheesy...I already know it is.....

The lights are bright, so bright I can’t even see the crowd at first. A large hand in mine draws my attention away from the lights to see Seungri with his classic handsome smile, that is always contagious, a smile spreads across my face.

“Everyone say Hello!” Seungri yells into the mic as he holds my hand up, turning back to fully face the crowd. I’m surprised when they all shout back a very loud hello.

I automatically bow deeply to the crowd, I almost considered getting on my knees if I wasn’t in a dress. Though I yell hello as loud as I can, not many people can hear me. Seungri hands me his mic and gestures for me to try again.

With a deep breath I say, “Hello I am Charlotte.” Again, I bow.

“Aigoo, our princess is so nervous,” Seungri teases but his grip on my hand tightens comfortably.

“Should she be nervous everybody?” Youngbae’s voice seems full of playfulness but not a single person misses the threat in it too.

The crowd yells, “No!”

“Good!” Youngbae smiles wide, “Now we know a lot of you guys will be upset with this news. But let me clarify that Charlie is not dating any us, she is just a friend. Say it with me,” He holds out the mic expectantly, the crowd echoes his words.

“Can I say something?” I ask the boys quietly. They smile and nod, staying silent for me to speak. “Hi, I’m sorry if this upsets any of you but I just want to say thank you for not rioting or something, I was really worried about that.” My erratic heart beat calms down a bit when the crowd responds with a laugh. “As a fan myself, I understand if anyone is mad, I would be too if I found out some strange girl was spending time with my oppas. But please don’t be too mad, I would be really thankful it if you all you could see that I’m not some girl who weaseled my way into their life. I just happen to be in the right place at the right time to run into Top oppa who introduced me to everyone else and things just got kind of crazy from there. I have no intentions of dating anyone, though if some asked me to marry them, could you blame me for accepting?”

I grin when the crowd cheers, all the faces I’m able to see are filled with smiles or at least not frowning.

“I will try to stay out of the way as much as possible but for the few moments you might see me, please take care of me.” To say the least, I’m surprised when the crowd boos.

Seungri grins at me, “I think they like you.” He says loud enough to be picked up by the mic. The crowd cheers.

“This is going much better than I thought it would,” I say honestly.

“Lets see how much they really like you,” GD beams at me and to the crowd, “for all those who would like to see the princess crowned please cheer as loud as possible, and for those who do not,” He pauses as the bright smile fades from his face, “leave.” The iciness in his voice makes me cringe. “You have a minute to decide.” We wait as the crowd chatters amongst themselves. I watch as some leave the crowd, while others move closer. When their minute is up, the crowd didn’t seem much smaller, and I can’t help but feel a little proud of myself. Grinning wide GD yells, “Who wants to be a knight to the princess?”

The crowd cheers loudly, and the boys all turn to me with child like grins at their success. Suddenly Fantastic begins to play and the groups from earlier flood on to stage to join in on the performance. BTS, Ikon, Seventeen, Got7, and Twice get to me first, while the other groups try to get to me as well. Still holding my hand Seungri begins jumping and thrashing around to the music. Too excited to not join along I follow his crazily stupid dance moves. I’m passed around stage as the song goes on, both the crowd on the floor and the crowd on stage dance like maniacs. When the song is over Daesung pulls me center stage. The other groups stand around us with grins. GD appears with a gorgeous golden tiara. He easily places it my hair, adjusting it just right before stepping back to stare at his work.

I stare at him with a small smile, “How do I look?”

Looking to the crowd GD repeats me question, “Well everyone? How does she look?” The crowd screams.

“As a little gift for you we asked all of your knights to make a little video for you,” Top says a the people on stage part to let Bobby and B.I, who are carrying a large throne like chair, through. They set the chair down with the back to the crowd, facing the massive screens on stage. Bobby sits me down in the chair before leaning on the back. I sit there and stare up at the screen nervously.

The dark screen suddenly flashes and all of Ikon is staring down at us, all except Bobby, who I’m guessing is holding the camera. When his voice comes over the speakers, my assumption is confirmed, “As the princess’s first official knights we are in charge of getting a message from all the other knights before the corination. Are you ready to accept your mission?”

“Yes!” The six other members yell out.

“We will go first,” B.I smiles awkwardly into the camera. “Noona we just want to say how much we appreciate you and all the hoops you have jumped threw to spend time with us.”

The focus goes to Jinhwan, “Hello my little dongseang and to the amazing crowd who stayed in support.” The crowd cheers and I find myself cheering along with them. “I just want to say thank you for being so accepting of our princess and I hope you decide to join our brotherhood of knights.” After the others go Bobby begins wandering down the halls of back stage, stopping when he finds BTS.

“Say hello to the princess!” He yells to the confused group of boys. “This is the video that is going to be played at the show so stay classy.”

The whole stadium laughs.

Jin steps forward first, “To whoever is watching this-“ Poor Jin isn’t able to say much before J-hope cuts him off.

“Hyung, you’re making this seem like your last words. Be fun!” J-hope hops into view, being his normal derpy self. “Princess! Since I am your bias I should be the one to leave the message. We love you very much!” He makes a heart with his arms as he continues his dance.

“You guys suck at this,” Bobby groans as he leaves the room, ignoring the very loud complaints from the group of boys behind him. Down the hall he spots more groups; Girls Generation, Twice, Red Velvet, and Mamamoo all give their adorable greeting with perfect smiles. As Bobby travels farther he runs into Seventeen, Monsta X, Topp Dogg, and a few others. Though their messages aren’t long I feel warmth growing in my chest as I resist the urge to cry at such happiness.

When the video is over I can’t help it when a single tear rolls down my cheek. Looking over my shoulder I see lots of fans already bawling or on the verge because of their idols heart filled messages to all of us. The video doesn’t end there, the camera turns around to show a very unflattering view of Bobby with a silly smile making me laugh.

“There a lots of people who wanted to be here but couldn’t so they recorded a video earlier,” He explains. “I hope you enjoyed this, I love you all!”

The screen switches to the whole AOMG crew making me grin like a maniac when Jay starts talking, “Hello there Princess! Sorry we can’t be there as much as we wanted to. But we still want to hope that you had an amazing coronation. We can party it up when we get back from America!” In the back round the group of guys, Loco, Gray, Simon Dominic and a few more are screaming like maniacs and running around. I can’t hold in my laughs at such a crazy sights. When they are done I want to scream when EXO pops up, all nine of them standing there in their outfits for playboy looking absolutely breath taking.

“Congratulations Princess!” They all yell together, making me grin bigger then ever before.

“Sorry we could not be there due to scheduling but I hope you know we wish you well! We will see you at the next award show, hopefully we can become closer!”

[buttercup-of-kaer-morhen]

Of Thorns and Buttercups

~Ch 6/?~

(Beauty and the Beast AU, Kiiiinda. It has definite elements of the original story cause I’m a sap for Fairytale AUs. I hope you enjoy. Also shout out to @sophiakuso1 for being my beta. Here you can find Beginning or Previous) Jaskier makes more progress into unraveling secrets and chipping away at Geralt's heart. Please enjoy this chaotic bard's adventures!

Note: Lew is still pronounced Lef because it is polish just as a heads up.

Primary Tags: Beast! Geralt, Belle! Jaskier, Memory Alteration Via Curse, It really only affects Jaskier right now Also on AO3!

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Jaskier awoke with a start. His dream was... odd. Straight out of a fairy tale or romantic ballad if he were to describe it. His heart so desperate for a knight, metaphorical or literal, to come into his life to love him like in every sappy poem and song he ever dealt read or sang, it went to the extent of affecting his dreams. He could feel a flush of embarrassment rushing to his face as he remembered his own mind even put him in the place of a maiden who met a dashing silver haired knight in a picturesque autumn forest. The traitor! Jaskier couldn't help thrashing his arms and legs about in the bed before finally sitting back up with a huff. He would have liked to scream in embarrassment but thought better of it seeing as it would be rude and potentially more humiliating if the Beast were to hear him and come check what was wrong. But now that he paused and thought about the hair color of his knight in shining armor in his dream, it looked very similar to the Beast’s fur. It was a wintery soft looking white that appeared as striking and fluffy as fresh fallen snow. Focusing more on it made his heart ache pitifully while also making him yearn for the company of the Beast simultaneously. He decided then that it would be better to shrug off the odd painful emotion, however, and latch onto his desire for fluffy company instead. Whatever had occurred in the past had happened, and he doubted he could change that right then, so he might as well focus on helping his hopefully new found friend... or, well, he would dearly love to make friends with the Beast. They could both really use a friend right about now. Invigorated by his new goal, Jaskier climbed out of bed ready to face the day. Whether it meant getting to spend quality time with the fellow or him filling his day dutifully studying the flowers for any hint of a connection to the curse… all by himself... He would be completely fine either way, at least he would be helping! Honestly, he didn’t mind the idea of being completely and utterly alone all day again! It’ll be great, just like his days just after Oxenfurt, except he wasn’t on the road obviously. 

He stretched in the warmth of his room, thanking whatever gods were above for granting him the luxury of having a magical fireplace to keep him warm in this cursed winter as he was setting about readying himself to face the day. Before he could even think about what to wear, he spotted another set of clothes on the trunk in front of his bed. It was almost scary how the great Beast could sneak into his room to leave gifts without disturbing Jaskier’s sleep with how big he appeared to be. The bard also couldn’t decide if it was sweet or creepy that he kept doing it, but he settled on sweet for now since he found all that fur rather endearing compared to a regular human stranger. The doublet and trousers, which were more bloomers this time, were a rich amber with burgundy accents which reminded him of the forest from his dream. The delicate embroidery on it even had a leaf motif as well. It may have been a coincidence, but he couldn’t help but smile nonetheless. The soft gauzy chemise and stockings to match the ensemble were a lovely cream color which seemed to tie it all together with soft dark brown boots that were set to the side. He gently put the garments on after he finished his usual morning routine--the importance of moisturizing, children--and when he turned to make the bed everything was already done just like the day prior. “You know you don’t have to be shy. You can do things in front of me just as you do with the Beast.” He spoke aloud into the empty room, not expecting any form of answer, but the curtains on the bed fluttered slightly. He took that as a yes and enjoyed another small victory. 

For a moment, he considered going in search of the Beast, but that hadn’t worked out well yesterday, so he decided to just finish what he had started last night. After a short whole of skimming through his select few books that he had collected, he decided the Herbarium and Antidotarium were far too academically written for him to really understand. Besides, they both seemed to not really focus on flora at all. Plants in general, yes, flowers not so much. He set them aside to put back later, but the small stool he placed them on trotted out of the room with the books. “...Thank you!” He called after the silly thing, after his initial shock, realizing that the stool had most likely gone to return them for him. How kind! The Botanist's Companion to the Identification of Flora had proved quite useful for, well, identifying the flowers he didn’t know of course, but it didn’t go much further then that. So he then turned his sights on the homemade Alchemy text and the Assasination guide book. If the flowers had any use for magic or medicine, Jaskier was sure these would have it all there for him in black and white… Except after searching through the neat penmanship for a couple of hours-- pity these didn’t have an index--and jotting down notes as he went, he found there was no correlation. Some were poisonous, some were medicinal, some were magical, some were a combination of the three, and although he assumed magic and alchemy were practically the same thing, none of the four flowers had any use in the same potions or spells he found. Bottom line was that the flowers and their associated parts had no practical use as a whole together. 

Changing his line of thought, he kept his notes, but turned to his final book and opened it. Symbolism was always the way to a bard’s heart, but he hadn’t expected a sorceress or sorcerer to pay much heed to it. Although, perhaps whoever it was to cast the spell was just adding insult to injury. It was like adding some kind of reminder or petty jab to taunt the Beast in his magical prison in the form of flowers. Odd, but not outside the realm of possibility really. He had once gone to such petty lengths as to bribe the laundress at Oxenfurt to “accidentally” dye all of Valdo Marx’s white linens and bed dressings to a color Jaskier knew he particularly hated for weeks just to drive the insufferable prat up the wall. Then to top it all off with a bow, he convinced the lady Valdo was courting at the time, that said color was his favorite and really got him going in the bedroom. He graciously assisted the fine lady to decorate her room in it, as well as oh-so-helpfully assisted her with picking out a stunning outfit to surprise and delight the odious weasel. It all proved to be worth it when the other man had been suspended for a week after he hollered at and practically mauled everyone who crossed his path. Now, many would think Jaskier was being unduly cruel, but in his defense, it was well and truly deserved. He only committed the act of vengeance after the vile piece of shit had stolen one of Jaskier’s early compositions which he had slaved over for months to complete and proceeded to present it as his own for the final examinations. It was butchered and Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to sing it ever again. So if whoever really disliked this Beast was petty enough, Jaskier wouldn’t put it past them to add a small detail of insulting foliage to the whole shabang. 

Upon opening the small journal filled with a ladies delicate crisp script, he set to work. To his confusion, they didn’t all come together as a whole that meant fuck you or something as equally aggressive. It was more mournful and sad. Thistle carried the heavy tones of pain, anger, and pride, which was not at all surprising of the devilish little thing, from what the text said. The Zinnia spoke of an absence while the cyclamens implied a separation that led to the absence. The worst and most heart wrenching of them all were the little purple hyacinths that pleadingly asked for forgiveness. Jaskier didn’t really get the whole picture yet, but he did understand that, as beautiful as the back garden was, it was a reminder. It was a symbol of regret, and something was undoubtedly hidden in the center of the maze. Hopefully a major clue or, if he was lucky enough, the key to breaking the curse. Regardless, the bard was even more determined to unravel what it all meant now than ever. First, however, he needed to gather more flowers and try to pick his way through the maze to its center. 

He set the sad blossoms to the side with the other materials and the journal before pulling on his bright cloak, ready to press on now that he had more stable footing underneath him. A glance to the windows showed that it was practically midday and he had skipped breakfast… again. Whoopsies. Not wanting to take too long though, he popped into the dining room and tucked some apples into his cloak pockets, also managing to remember to grab a couple for the mare--as he promised to do--from the table that was slowly clearing itself for dinner later in the evening. He left through the front entrance and made his way to the stables so he wouldn’t forget to give the lady her treat. 

He stopped short upon entering, however, because the horse was not alone this time. It seemed he was her second visitor of the day. Standing at her side was the Beast, brush in hand, lovingly grooming her while whispering words Jaskier sadly could not hear. The bard couldn’t help but feel elated that he had such good fortune that day. He did, however, war with himself on whether or not he should disturb the tranquil, domestic scene, but the decision was made for him as the lady huffed in Jaskier’s direction, which had the Beast’s gaze snapping up to him. The troubadour’s bright smile was met with an annoyed scowl however, and had Jaskier regretting his mistake of accidentally interrupting. Before he could think of an excuse to quickly get out of the Beast’s hair, the rough baritone called out, halting his thoughts. “What?” It was demanding and clipped but not angry at least.

Jaskier licked his lips nervously as he stepped forward, trying to remember what he had come to do all of a sudden. Thankfully, the gentle knock of the apples against his knee, concealed in his cape, jolted his memory . “Ah! Oh, I just came to bring a treat to the lady. She helped me in a way yesterday and I wanted to thank her.” He could feel his cheeks warm with embarrassment as the words left his mouth. He realized how ridiculous it sounded, but at least it was the truth. 

He expected a scoff or a growl to follow his ridiculous statement, but he was met with wide surprised eyes before the Beast’s face was back to its usual flat stare in the blink of an eye. The Beast said nothing further, but he did hum in acceptance, or at least that’s what Jaskier was going to assume it meant. When the Beast turned back to tending to the horse, Jaskier felt some of the tension leave him. He could do this, he could talk to the intriguing fellow and possibly convince the other to spend time with Jaskier in the day, not just at dinner. 

Jaskier quietly moved towards the two in the stall and cautiously caught the horse’s attention, not wanting to startle her.  “Hello, Madam! It’s lovely to see you again!” His mouth moved of its own accord, prattling on at the horse rather than the Beast to hopefully disperse his sudden onset nerves. “I have brought you a treat, as promised.” He continued as he stepped into the stall, putting him rather close to the great mass of fur. The space felt smaller than the other day with all three of them in it, and the bard felt his heart hammering in his throat, ready to run away with itself. He didn’t quite understand his own reaction, but he was tempted to blame it on the strange dream and how the Beast’s fur reminded him of the knight’s hair. He supposed he was needier for companionship then he thought, a matter he usually dealt with by finding some one night stand that gave him the physical if not emotional comfort he longed for. As he tried to quell his racing heart, the Beast shifted further away. The troubadour almost felt like an idiot as he realized the Beast could most likely hear the offending organ and it made him uncomfortable. Hell, if Jaskier could hear someone’s heartbeat race just by stepping into a horse stall which put them in close proximity to one another, he would think them strange too. All in all he was not making a good impression on the other who had already wanted to get rid of him. Mentally shoving down all the weird feelings, he fed the darling mare her treat. 

He needed to act as charming and likable as he usually was, but he couldn’t understand why none of his usual demeanor came out around the other man. He cleared his throat, glancing over at the other. “I apologise for if I offended you in some way last night during dinner. I thought things were going well, but I suppose I must have crossed a line somewhere that upset you, and for that I am remorseful. I didn’t intend to be rude.” He began speaking to fill the silence. It was not anywhere near what he had intended to say, but it also wasn’t the worst way to start. Besides, it was the truth. He felt like it had been his fault that everything was abruptly cut short. An apology was far better than glossing over what had happened, acting like it hadn’t occurred, and talking about the weather. The Beast only hummed in response to Jaskier’s apology, so the bard continued on. “By the way, whose horse is this? She’s an absolute peach! Did she get trapped here as well?”

The Beast grunted slightly in reply, very articulate, and Jaskier assumed that was all he was going to get out of him until finally the low rumbling tone graced the bard’s ears again. “She’s mine. Had her for years, and yes, she is most likely trapped here by the same curse that traps us.” The stoic individual explained, and it was so very sweet how fond he sounded when speaking of his horse.

Except it was as clear as mud. The Beast hadn’t really given him anything but sparse details that told him nothing except for some reason, a Beast in a cursed castle required a horse that he most likely couldn’t ride with his size being what it was. Jaskier would just have to take solace in the fact that he had gotten more words to come out of him than the short, clipped responses… Also that did confirm he was most likely a man before all this if he had had a horse, but it still didn’t tell him anything of the Beast’s status, class, or profession. Anyone could have a horse as long as they could make enough coin to care for it. “Well she’s a darling. May I- Is there any way I can help?” He tried to offer but the Beast shook his head with a happy huff. Jaskier sighed softly in disappointment. Well this wasn’t going very far… Jaskier decided to try another angle. “So, Beast, I really do mean it when I say-”

“Don’t” The deep growl cut him off and Jaskier’s confusion was met with a deep glower before the Beast’s eyes looked anywhere but at him. He didn’t look just annoyed this time but outright angry.

“What?” Jaskier could only ask dumbly because  he didn’t know where he had yet again misstepped. 

“Don’t call me that.” He growled, looking genuinely distressed and the bard felt rather bad for it… “Beast..” He spit out the word like it tasted foul on his tongue, muttering mostly to himself. 

“Well…” Jaskier started gently, taking a tentative step forward and laying a hand lightly on the Beast’s arm. He counted it as a win when it was not shaken off. “What should I call you? I--You have yet to give a name, but I apologize for the callous insensitivity I have displayed…” He asked, deciding that he should’ve at least apologized for putting his foot in his mouth again. Just because the Beast knew who he was didn’t mean he shouldn’t have asked the other for his. 

The Beast seemed to consider him critically for a moment while deciding whether or not to answer. “Geralt.”

Jaskier couldn’t help but smile, finally knowing the Beast’s name. “It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Geralt.” He spoke with a flourish and a bow, smiling playfully at the Beast, who rolled his eyes at the bard’s antics, but it felt fond in a way. “Now, as I was trying to say, I really do wish to help break the curse… If you’ll allow, that is.” He offered and amended, fully planning to continue helping regardless but it’d be easier if Geralt consented and provided information. 

The Beast sighed in annoyance, but Jaskier could tell that he was considering whether or not to trust the bard to help, so Jaskier waited patiently. “...The curse changes and shifts according to the person apparently.”  He relented vaguely.  

Jaskier was starting to think he and Geralt were going to need a little sit down to have a nice long chat about a thing called details. Really! It was a familiar exasperation that he felt, but didn’t dwell on it since the conversation seemed more pressing. “Sounds rather annoying and rather unfair of the caster to not even give you a hint on how to break it.” 

Geralt nodded stoically, a word that was rather fitting of the cursed man, as he ushered the bard out of the stall. Both said goodbye to the mare before stepping out into the crisp winter scene. It almost felt like the Beast didn’t want the horse to hear their discussion and the thought nearly had him giggling, but he refrained. Must maintain a serious professional demeanor and all that to get any details. “Don’t know much else yet except that the spell provides anything I need to break the curse… And there’s a time limit.” His tone was grave and the notion sent chills up the troubadour’s spine. 

“What happens if time runs out…” He couldn’t help asking as fear creeped into his mind. He may not know the Beast well, but he got a good feeling from him, and he didn’t want to lose yet another companion if he could help it. There was also the matter of what would happen to him if the curse’s time limit ran out since he was now stuck there. It was just as likely that he’d be freed as it was that he’d die with the Beast. 

Geralt didn’t respond however. He shrugged and shook his head, not meeting Jaskier’s eye, telling the bard that even he didn’t know what fate awaited him, but it was most likely very grim. Jaskier didn’t like the somber air that had enveloped them after the conversation lapsed, so he tried to reassure them both with false bravado he didn’t quite feel in the moment. “Well, nothing to fear really. I’m sure with my help, we’ll be able to break this curse in no time.”

The Beast, however, snorted at his cheerful tone. “Oh?  What could some bard do that I couldn’t already?” Now Jaskier could tell he was teasing, especially since there was an amused glint in the star like eyes, but he still wound up sputtering indignantly. 

“Some bard!?” He nearly shrieked as the other openly openly chuckled at his flustered state. “How dare you!” Jaskier quickly stooped down, gathering snow into a ball and threw it at the highly amused Beast. He had been mistaken, the Beast had a lack of refinement and taste! “I’ll show you!” He threw another ball of snow to punctuate his sentence before continuing his rant. “I’ll break the damned curse just so I can shove it in your furry handsome face!” 

He continued to pelt Geralt with snow, but now the other was returning fire, and Jaskier was scrambling to dodge while giving little shrieks of delight because as upset as he was, it was rather fun. “If your curse breaking is as bad as your aim bard, I shall fear for my life!” The other called out as they exchanged blows, his tone open and friendly. The man was apparently finding humor in ruffling Jaskier’s feathers, the insufferably gruff, intriguing bastard!

“In fact, I bet the curse brought me here because you were too busy brooding to figure it out!” His shrieks slowly morphed into delighted little laughs as they traded powdery blows. “An answer to your prayers!”

He ducked and ran through the front garden boasting as he tried to hit the agile Beast as the Beast chased after him. “More likely an added punishment brought to torment me.” The Beast countered, which rustled the bard more, most likely an attempt to get Jaskier to falter, which he almost gave into. 

After a little while of cat and mouse in their little snowball game, he was tackled into the fluffy snow by his pursuer. He giggled looking up at the Beast. Jaskier was pulling in deep breaths to sate his burning lungs while Geralt seemed unperturbed by the exercise, but they were both unmistakably smiling in their own ways, Jaskier grinning broadly while Geralt smirked. “The solution to all your woes…” He breathed out softly between them which Geralt rolled his eyes at fondly at before standing up, breaking whatever small moment that had appeared between them. He was kind enough to help the smaller man up, however, so chivalrous he was. 

Jaskier couldn’t help the soft, giddy giggles that sporadically slipped out from his lips, but as fun as everything had been, Geralt turned towards the castle. “I’ll, uh… I’ll see you at dinner.” Geralt offered before quickly going off and disappearing. 

Jaskier was left standing outside once again, damp, but genuinely happy for the first time in a while. He would have felt like he had scared the Beast off again had Geralt not just confirmed they’d be dining together. A part of him wanted to hop around in victory, but instead he buried his blushing face in his hands and squealed softly in delight. Things may have started off rocky but now things were finally looking up. Wanting to press his good fortune, Jaskier quickly made his way to the back gardens to collect a few more flowers to look up. He may or may not have been skipping, but he was too happy to care. He collected three more, wanting to take his time and not misidentify anything, since they dried slightly in the time he looked each one up. This time he collected a small, delicate little flower, a larger yellow flower that looked like the ruffled layers of a ladies petticoats, and a vivid purple flower with lots of long thin petals and a bright yellow center. Spending time searching for and picking buds had left him feeling rather chilled, however, so he hurried around the keep and went back inside.

By the time Jaskier was back in his chamber, he realized just how frigidly cold he actually was. Frost has actually stiffened the damper part of his clothes.  He shivered from the snow-dampened clothes, and a part of him knew it would be best to go take a nice hot bath, but he was suddenly very tired. So he stripped off his wet clothing, setting them to thaw and dry by the fire, and he set his newly collected blossoms with the others on his desk before dressing in the shirt he had slept in. Thankfully, from the position of the sun in the sky, Jaskier could tell he had a couple of hours until dinner. Which was just perfect! He’d take a nap for a little while, warm up, and then get all nice and freshened up for dinner. As he settled into bed, he wondered if Geralt would sneak him another outfit that he’d wish Jaskier to wear for dinner or not. The idea made him smile and laugh slightly before sleep pulled him into its sweet embrace. 

When he opened his eyes, he found himself standing before the same lake he had been at in his dream before. This time however, most of the trees were waning in the late autumn fashion, and the sun was slowly setting on the horizon behind him. However, he was not filled with awe and the delight of meeting a handsome mysterious stranger in the woods this time. In fact, he felt rather heart broken, a feeling he knew all too well at this point, and was not thrilled to be feeling it again. Worst of all, he felt like he could do nothing to remedy the situation which brought the sting of hot tears welling up and overflowing. He tried brushing them away, but the fat tears continued to flow. His soft hiccuping sobs that had forced their way passed his lips were halted by Lew emerging out of the trees. His sharp features were softened by the solemn concern that he wore openly on his face. His piercing yellow eyes held Jasekier captive as the man-- no, Knight apparently-- approached slowly.

“I should’ve told you…” His voice was full of regret and Jaskier knew he had already forgiven him. 

“It shouldn’t matter... “ Jaskier tried to offer, fully believing in what he said. It shouldn't have, whatever the drama was that his brain concocted, but it did. 

“But she’s your only family and it made me appear to be dishonest.” The silver haired knight finished for him. “...I think she just needed an excuse to deny the proposal. You only have one another and I understand her fear of losing you.” He added, a deep misery settled in his topaz gaze. It seemed to be one of his overly dramatic nights where he put too much poetic flare on his observations.

“I know…” Was all Jaskier could offer pitifully, feeling more tears welling up and burning the back of his throat. He couldn’t hide his little hitched sobs in the silent evening that veiled them from the world they would eventually have to go back to. Lew stepped closer, taking Jaskier’s hand in his, tentatively checking if the touch was welcome. The bard couldn’t help himself as he buried himself in the larger man’s arms, modesty be damned. Lew instinctively tightened the embrace as he ran his gloved hand through his hair and down his back soothingly. The knight’s thick cloak shielded them from the rest of the night and kept the chill at bay. It was only when the other’s heat seeped into his bones that Jaskier realized how cold he had become. Jaskier had forgotten that he had run out into the night without his own cloak, and the long trailing jacket he wore was not enough to buffer the late autumn weather.

“I promise, I will fix this, dear heart. I will do anything to prove to her that my feelings are genuine and that I only wish to care and provide for you. I do not mean to whisk you away or disappear with you.” His voice was even as he murmured to the bard. Jaskier pressed further into the other, not caring about the cool armor between them. He knew his heart already belonged to this man, and it was terrifying, but it brought him comfort to hear the other’s feelings. “I must tell you that the only reason I kept my title from you was because I wanted to know you without any status or title coming between us… It was selfish, I know, but I wanted to be free by your side, even if only for as long as you’d let me. I should have told you sooner.” Lew’s voice was remorseful as he cradled Jaskier so gently in his hold. 

The bard couldn’t help the small wet laugh that bubbled up in him as he looked up into his knight’s startled gaze. “I know, my dear. I know and I wouldn’t change even a second of the time we stole together.” Jaskier found himself declaring before he could second guess himself, but once the words were out, he knew they were true in his heart. Although his chest ached pleasantly compared to the heartache he had been feeling, something still felt false. This was all just a beautiful dream that he’d never have, and it made him want to weep, but he didn’t. He knew he was a cad and a flirt who played with one to many skirts, drawing the ire of husbands and other men. He knew with all his dishonesty, gallivanting, and cowardice he didn’t deserve such a sweet, faithful lover. He would not have such a fulfilling love unless the gods took pity and gifted him one last chance, but if he ever had a love in the waking world that felt like this, he’d follow them to the ends of the earth and back. He would faithfully love them and only them if he were just given a chance… But hadn’t he already had that chance? Wasn’t that why he felt as though there was a hole where his heart was that threatened to swallow him whole if he wasn’t distracting himself with other thoughts? It was why he felt jagged around the edges, something had been broken inside and hadn’t fit back together just right. He had wasted his one shot. 

“I will make this right.” The knights rumbled softly, like a summer storm, and Jaskier was pulled back into the present of the dream even though the realization lingered in his thoughts. As much as the gentle treatment broke his already fragile heart more, the bard found himself smiling lightly as the man stepped away. A strong hand wiped away the last of his tears before bidding him farewell. 

As Jaskier watched the knight disappear into the dark woods, he felt lighter and heavier at the same time. As he closed his eyes to savor the fleeting moment, he found himself blinking awake in his too warm bed. He tried to push down the regret welling up inside, but soon it was spilling out as he cried mutedly into his pillow. He felt so upset, and angry, and overwhelmed at the realization that he had somehow lost his love. To add salt to the gaping wound, he couldn’t even remember why or how! He couldn’t remember their face! Or their voice! All he wanted to do now was find them and fix everything, but he was here. He supposed the memory loss was also most likely his fault… An ill conceived memory spell undoubtedly procured from a backwater hag, presumably in an attempt to forget the pain after he got roaringly drunk. It definitely sounded on par with the foolish shit he had done in his lifetime, but it only served to wipe the man from his world, not the pain. The mind may forget, but the heart will always remember. As he felt entirely too warm and morose, as though this was the bed he would die in, he spotted a bundle of clothes left on the side table by his side of the bed. The thought of the Beast leaving them there after creeping carefully in to surprise him with the gift managed to quell his tears and bring a tiny hint of a smile to his lips. Although he had messed his life up somehow and he felt lost, adrift in a sea he no longer knew how to navigate, he was at least not alone. He had his dreams filled with lovely views and a darling knight, but more importantly, he had the company of his Beast. He very much preferred his Beast to imaginary knights if he was to get through this whole comedy of tragedies that was his life. 

So regardless of how his body protested and how his head swam with sleep, he hauled himself up and out of the bed that remade itself. The light outside was almost completely gone which meant he had slept longer than he had intended. He’d have to hurry if he wanted to be on time. Jaskier found himself quickly freshening up in the wash basin to rid himself of the sweat he somehow drenched himself in as he slept while chiding the fireplace for stoking itself so high… and then he consoled the poor thing because he felt bad for being too harsh with it as he put on kohl to match the dark garments still neatly folded and waiting. When he picked them up, however, he finally noticed they were a deep purple velvet that brightened as the fabric shifted. The long doublet was trimmed with emerald braiding, and near the collar, emeralds were studded in a way to appear as though he were wearing an extravagant necklace. The simple velvet trousers were well fitted and clung to him like a second skin. His new chemise that went with the ensemble was lilac, and so delicate in his hands that it could only be made of silk. This outfit seemed terribly grand compared to the past outfits he had been given, and for the first time in his life, he was nervous to put on such finery, but it would be rude not to. So he dressed carefully, realizing then just how warm velvet was to wear, but he’d just bare it for the sake of his Beast. He also decided to wear the few silver rings he had to add a little touch of his own. As the bard was pulling on his new over the knee black boots, a knock came at his door and he realized with a small smile that Geralt had come to fetch him again. Muzzy headed with excitement, he quickly finished and strode to the door, pulling it open with a flourish and a big delighted smile. As he suspected, the Beast was truly there, hunched over to look less threatening, and he had changed out of his usual armor into clothes that seemed dressier, which had Jaskier’s woefully soft heart bubbling happily in his chest. Geralt had made an effort this time and, if Jaskier may be so bold as to wish, it was for his sake. “Geralt! Shall we?” He asked cheerily, looping his arm around the crook of the other’s elbow and waited for the other to lead the way.