#excuse me while i expand my au libraries

[starrspice]

My brain has cursed me with the concept of A DCA x centaur world AU

[im-an-anxious-wreck]

Inspire

AO3 link

Summary: King Roman had never thought himself the fatherly type. He hadn't had the best example growing up, his father had been… negligent at best.

And while everyone had always praised Roman's father for being a good king, a good father, they did not.

But somehow, despite never expecting to be any sort of fatherly figure or even a mentor, Roman takes a young magical boy in as his ward. What was Roman supposed to do? Just leave Patton in the hands of the awful person who was misusing him for his magic? Hah, Roman thought not.

Will Roman be able to help Patton fit in? Or will he end up just like his father?

Warnings: cursing, kissing, very mild injury, poison/poisoning (doesn't go into gorey detail), some child abuse in the beginning that will probably be referenced later (all sides are sympathetic though)

Universe: Magic/royal au

Perspective/main character: Roman

Side/secondary characters: Patton, Janus, Logan

Appear: Virgil, Remus, Remy, Emile

Romantic relationships: Roceit, background established Dukexiety 

Platonic relationships: Roman and Patton, Janus and Logan, Roman and Logan, Janus and Patton

Word Count: 17,458

Link to my collection of TSS fanworks

Any historical inaccuracies are sponsored by this is a fantasy world and I do what I want

This is my second fic for @ts-storytime's big bang challenge!

You can find the adorable art by @thebestworstidea here!!

Thanks to @threecrowsinatrenchcoat for beta-ing!

-

Roman had never thought himself the best person, nor a particularly great king, but he tried. He did what he could, he did his best, and hoped it was enough. It'd… he'd have to be enough.

He couldn't do everything, and what he did do had to be within the confines of the law, but he couldn't stand by and do nothing. Not when Logan had broken into the castle just to see the library before he died of starvation, and not when he heard a blacksmith yelling at a kid for letting the fire get too low.

And it was no wonder it had gotten so low, the kid looked absolutely exhausted and was— by Remus' morning star, the kid was using fire magic! Why the kid couldn't have been more than ten, and yet he'd clearly been doing sustained fire magic. Even Roman would be exhausted from doing that all day.

The kid wimped and the flames jumped a bit higher, only fueling the fire raging in Roman's gut on the kid's behalf.

"Deep breath," Roman's adviser, Janus whispered. "Pause, remember your intentions, then act."

Roman's chest expanded and contracted with air as he set his intention. Get the kid to safety and try not to don't start a fight. Easy.

Maybe he shouldn't have gone out in disguise today; his usual crown locked away back at the castle and a plain tunic and breeches underneath his red traveling cloak. 

Well, there was no point thinking about that now.

Roman walked up to the man, the clacking of his boots on the cobblestone echoing in his ears, and his form strengthened with far more confidence than he actually had. The man barely glanced up at Roman before continuing to ignore him so Roman pursed his lips and said, "Excuse me."

The blacksmith sighed in annoyance before finally looking up at Roman. "What?"

"Is that child yours?"

"Oh, Merlin's balls, what's he done now?"

"Well, nothing. It's actually—"

"Good, then fuck off."

"I— excuse me?"

"You heard me, Buckethead. Fuck. Off."

"Buckethead! I'm not even wearing my hel—"

Roman took another deep breath.

Get the child to safety.

"Sir, you're under arrest."

"What?!" The man squawked indignity. "What for? You can't do that!"

Roman paused for a moment. "Alright. Fair enough. Virgil!"

Virgil practically appeared out of nowhere next to Roman's shoulder. "Yeah?"

"Might I recommend that you arrest him for child abuse?"

"You most certainly can." Virgil's eyes narrowed at the blacksmith, looking at him with deep disgust. "Sir, you are under arrest for the mistreatment and abuse of a child under your care, as well as violating the Worker Safety and Protection Act." 

Virgil made a small gesture and two knights down the busy street left their posts and put the man in iron cuffs.

The man turned towards Roman, glaring at him as he roared, "Who do you think you are?! Getting me arrested by the damn captain of the guard for him," He snarled, jerking his head back to the shop briefly, "For him doing magic!"

"Ah, sorry. I suppose I did forget to introduce myself. I'm Roman. King Roman Sanders." 

A man just spluttered dumbfoundedly.

Roman resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead continuing, "Also the problem really isn't with magic, it's with you mistreating him. Good day."

The man tried to argue more —seriously, does he not have any self-preservation?— but Roman had already walked around him to where the young boy was watching the whole ordeal from the corner of the blacksmith shop.

Roman crouched down a little ways away from the child, not wanting him to feel trapped. "Hello."

The boy stared at him for a moment before softly saying, "Hi."

Roman smiled gently at him. "It's nice to meet you. My name's Roman."

"Yeah… I heard."

"Ah, I see. What's your name?"

"...Patton."

Roman had planned to take Patton to an orphanage, but something about how he held himself, something about how he was curled into a tight ball, eyes glittering with equal parts fear and curiosity, it made him think of when he'd found Virgil in his early twenties. Virgil was only five years younger than Roman, and, despite being a teenager at the time, he'd looked so young and small; a symptom from being in one of the neighboring kingdoms' children army.

Patton glanced up at Roman and then down again before finally settling on his hands, and Roman knew, he knew that he'd be taking another person into his small but apparently ever-growing family. Only if Patton wanted him to though, of course.

Roman's knees started to ache so he gently sat down, careful not to make any sudden moves. "How would you like to live with me in the castle?"

"...I don't have any money."

"Ah, no, you wouldn't have to pay."

"Oh… what would you want me to do then? Maybe my magic could be useful to you in some way?"

Roman could practically feel his heart sink in his chest. "I'm not taking you in to be useful, young one."

"Oh…" Patton frowned, considering Roman's words, and Roman let him. "Can— may I ask why you're taking me in then?"

"That's a good question… one that I don't completely know the answer to. But I do know that you didn't deserve to suffer, and I want you to be taken care of. And I'm going to personally make sure that you always have somewhere to stay and be safe, okay?"

"Okay, I— thank you. If you ever change your mind though, I understand."

"I'm quite sure that I won't. Even if you didn't want to live in the castle anymore, I'd still make sure that you have a safe place to live."

"Oh, well that… thank you, sir."

"Now how about we pack anything of yours and then you can meet my two friends, alright?"

"Alright. I'll be very quick, sir."

"That's fine. I'm not in a rush though."

…

After they grabbed Patton's small amount of clothing, they met up with Virgil and Janus, both seeming to take to the child well.

Virgil's guard's had taken the blacksmith away and so the four of them walked to the point where they were to meet the carriage to take them back to the castle.

Roman looked at the child, mind already whirring with all the things he'd need. Patton would definitely need clothes and tutors, a room… there were a few in the royal wing that he might potentially like.

"Patton?"

Patton's eyes snapped to Roman. "Yes?"

"Do you have a favourite colour?"

"Mm… yeah."

"Well, mine's red."

Patton still didn't say his so Virgil declared, "Bet you can't guess mine!" As they made a show of adjusting his purple cape.

Patton almost seemed to be holding back a small smile. "Purple?"

Virgil lightly gasped. "You got it right! What about your favourite colour, Jan?"

"My favourite is definitely the colour of vomit." 

Virgil rolled his eyes, and pretended to scold Janus, saying, "Janus Hierophant, your favourite colour is definitely not vomit."

"Alright, fine, Virgil Storm, it's whatever the ugliest colour you can think of is then."

"No, it's yellow!" Patton added, eyes bright as his lips curled upwards ever so slightly.

They all stopped walking and stared at Patton, whose face instantly fell, shoulders hunched. 

"Sorry," Patton mumbled.

"You're fine… and right. I'm not sure how you knew that as I'm wearing all black today… but you're right."

"Um… I don't really know either. Sometimes I just know stuff," Patton said as they all continued walking.

"Ah, I see. You might have some intuition-based magic then. What's my favourite animal?"

"...You say it's snakes, but it's actually honey badgers." 

Virgil whistled low. "Damn, lying to us, Jan? How dare you." 

Virgil said it in such an obviously joking tone that Roman didn't even realise how it might come across to Patton until he heard a small sniffle behind him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get Mr. Hierophant in trouble!"

Janus' demeanor shifted instantly. "You're fine, I'm not in trouble. They were just teasing me."

"...Okay. 'M still sorry."

"It's alright," Janus soothed. "No one's mad."

Patton nodded, eyes still darting around like someone was suddenly going to be angry.

Roman decided to change the conversation, hoping that that might help ease Patton's fear. "Oh, I never got the chance to ask you, Patton, what's your favourite colour?" Technically he'd only asked if Patton had a favorite color, so since the child had taken it so literally, Roman needed to be more specific.

"...Blue, like the sky."

"Ooh, that's a very nice colour."

Patton nodded hesitantly.

Perfect, Roman knew exactly which room to give Patton. It couldn't be more suited for him unless Roman had magically known his tastes and decorated it accordingly.

Patton was absolutely going to love the blue walls with white clouds painted on them. It looked just like the sky and Roman could hardly wait for Patton to see it.

They stopped to get some food for lunch and pretty quickly after they'd paid for it, the carriage arrived.

As Patton ate his bread, looking out the window thoughtfully, Roman couldn't help but feel very grateful that he'd listened to Janus' apprentice. Not only was Logan very smart and learnt quickly, but he sometimes had visions.

That had been the entire reason for Roman's visit from his castle overlooking the valley to the town nestled down in the valley. Logan had said that the bear spirit of children and mistreated workers, Osha had come to him in a dream and told him that Roman needed to make a trip to town. She hadn't told Logan why, just that Roman would know what to do.

And although Roman hadn't realised it at the time, he really had known what to do.

-

Logan had only been at the castle for a few months, but had settled in quite well, quickly learning a lot from the many books he read and from being under Janus' care.

His dark brown eyes shone with the glitter of knowledge and curiosity, and Logan's curls were a lot healthier after the court physician and herbalist, Emile, had shown Logan some hair care that Logan hadn't had access to when he lived on the streets. 

Actually getting the nutrients Logan needed had also helped him flourish, his frame no longer so thin and boney.

It was almost hard to believe that it'd only been a few months, but at the same time it almost seemed like longer; Logan fit right in.

Roman sat down in his room by the roaring fireplace.

Roman's recent meeting of Patton had made him think of when Janus had taken Logan in…

~

Roman was looking over some information about his kingdom in his private study when his adviser, Janus came in, escorting a boy about fifteen. They both walked to the middle of the room.

"Your majesty," Janus said curtly with a nod.

Roman set down the documents, now fully turning to face the both of them, taking in the boy's mismatched, worn, ill-fitting —albeit clean— clothes and cracked glasses. The boy's hair was in rather loose, uneven corn rows, it looked like he'd most likely done them himself and without the aid of a mirror.

"Yes?" Roman asked.

"I… I'd like you to hear me out before you cast your judgment."

Roman furrowed his brow, glancing at the boy again. "I always try to, but I will make extra sure that I do this time. What happened?"

"This young man broke into the castle—"

"I didn't break in. Nothing was broken."

"...Alright." Janus conceited, despite usually being no-nonsense and absolutely hating being interrupted. "He snuck into the castle without permission, and into our main library without being detected."

"Well, it seemed like he was detected at some point."

"I— yes. I found him in there reading a book, but that's not the point."

"Then what is the point? I presume that there's more to the story, otherwise you would've dealt with it yourself."

"Of course. I'd never waste your time like that. He's an orphan and wanted to see the great library before he died of hunger," Janus said, voice even more emotionless than usual.

"Alright… So, wh—" Then it hit Roman. 

Janus was standing slightly in front of the boy; right arm slightly out, not to keep the boy back, but to keep the boy from Roman; Janus' face and voice had been professional at best, and purposely flat at the worst. Janus… cared about the boy, but was trying not to show it. Hmm…

"Ah, I see."

"...You do?" Janus asked, almost apprehensively.

"Yes, I do. Do what you see fit and let me know if you need something, anything from me."

"Oh… I mean, yes, alright. Thank you." Janus finally dropped the arm he'd been half holding in from of the boy, clearly no longer concerned that the boy's wellbeing was in danger.

Roman looked at the boy. "So, you really wanted to see our library before you died?"

The boy's eyes looked slightly afraid, but he hid it about as well as Janus did. "Yes, sire. I figured if I was going to die, I might as well have seen the most magnificent library in the kingdom, or die trying."

"How would you feel about being an apprentice instead of that death you seem to be so sure is going to happen soon?"

"An apprenticeship?"

"With me," Janus cut in. "If you'd like." Janus turned to look at the boy easier. "You'd learn all sorts of things. An advisor must be knowledgeable in a lot of different subjects after all. But you absolutely can say no. There'd be no consequences for doing so as I'd simply just find a good orphanage for you to live in. And I understand if you need some time to think it ov—"

"Yes," The boy said, almost desperately, interrupting Janus for the second time.

But Janus didn't seem to mind, only looking at the boy in surprise. "...Yes, you'd like more time to think it over, or yes, you'd like to be my apprentice?"

"Yes, I'd like to be your apprentice… please."

"Oh, right. I— great. Um… would you like me to find public housing for you, or would you rather stay here in the castle? I believe there's some quarters near mine, you know, that way if you needed anything, I'd be right there."

"In the castle would be preferable, thank you."

"Right… and of course we'll need to stop by the seamstress… perhaps after you bathe though. Oh, and you'll need new glasses. Do you want a haircut?"

"Yes, please."

"So the barber as well…"

"Well," Roman said, clapping his hands together gently. "I don't suppose I'm needed for this part, and besides, Janus has been quite firm that I need to memorize all twenty of these pages before my meeting tomorrow, so I should really be getting back to them."

Janus rolled his eyes. "I definitely most did not tell you to memorize them. Just a run-through is fine."

"Well, no matter. I have pages to read, and Janus needs to show you to your quarters and take care of your other necessities. Ah, and perhaps a visit to the physician and then subsequently the kitchen."

"Oh, of course. Good idea."

Roman felt a bit bad just calling the boy… well, 'the boy' all the time. "What's your name?"

"My name is Logan, sire."

"Well, as you might know, I'm Roman." Roman held his hand out and shook the bo— Logan's hand. 

"I… am aware."

"Well, let me formally welcome you to the castle. I hope you enjoy your time here and don't hesitate to let me or Janus know if you need anything. Oh, and you should know, now that you're the royal advisor's apprentice, you'll have access to the very exclusive Royal Library as well as the one that's open to all people who live here. We call it the Grand Library."

Logan's eyes widened in shock. "Really? I can visit not only the Grand Library, but the Royal Library as well?"

"That's right."

"Wow… oh, er, thank you."

"You're welcome, Logan. I know you'll appreciate and take care of the books."

"Yes, I will, sir."

Roman smiled at Logan before turning to Janus. "I expect him to shadow you for at least a week before he's left on his own outside of his room."

Janus inclined his head. "Of course, your majesty."

~

Roman smiled to himself. 

He'd been a little unsure about Logan but his magic hadn't felt anything off and if anything had actually pulled Roman to Logan. Roman suspected that Janus had felt that same magical pull, especially seeing how protective of Logan he was, and how quickly he grew to care for the boy.

It was easier to recognise that pull Janus had to Logan now as Roman had felt it towards Patton just that morning. 

Roman sighed and began pacing again.

Logan knew what it felt like to be new to the castle and from a bad situation, maybe he'd have some advice for Roman. He really felt out of his depth here.

Janus had been the one to arrange for everything that Logan had needed, so Roman really didn't know what to do. Despite taking in several people, he still didn't feel very good at it.

Maybe he should ask Janus as well.

Roman walked through the halls, his red, detachable cape billowing out behind him as castle workers moved out of his way and bowed their heads in respect.

It was late afternoon and Roman suspected that Janus and Logan were probably either in the Royal Library or in Janus' office. However, the library was a bit more likely at the moment.

Roman nodded to the guard outside the door and flung both doors open a bit more dramatically than perhaps was necessary. The guard closed them behind Roman.

Logan looked up from his book from where he sat in an armchair, Janus in the other one, and Roman could practically feel Janus' eye roll.

"Good day, sire," Logan greeted as he stood and bowed. "Mr. Hierophant filled me in with what transpired this morning, I'm glad my prophecy was useful."

Roman gestured for Logan to sit as he said, "And I as well. That's what I wished to discuss actually. I'd imagine that the castle took some getting used to when you had first arrived, and so I was hoping you might have some advice to make Patton feel more welcome. Also, that Janus might have something as well. I know he orchestrated a lot of your care."

"Well," Janus said, drawing out the word in his elongated speech pattern, "That doesn't sound like it could be a long conversation, don't sit down." Janus summoned a chair close to his and Logan's. "I can tell when you're feeling awkward while standing after all."

After Roman sat down he laughed lightly. "True, you did teach me how to hide it somewhat though."

"May I ask how long the both of you have known each other?"

"Of course, Logan. I don't pretend to speak for Janus, but unless I am otherwise occupied with royal duties, you may always ask me questions. If I don't have the answer or want to answer, I'll just state as such."

"I believe I've told you something similar about questions relating to knowledge," Janus said. "But I shall extend it to the length that our king has."

"Ah, but to answer your question," —Roman briefly glanced at Janus for permission to share, catching the small squint of approval which was most likely unnoticed by Logan (despite his wonderful observant skills), before Roman continued— "We've known each other about… well, since my coronation at eighteen, he was only fifteen so I waited a few years to let him learn more and get more experience and exposure to other cultures. 

"Everyone tried to get me to take an older adviser, and I did assemble a small council of elders for some matters of advice and to keep me in check, I especially needed their advice while Janus was traveling and learning, but I just knew that Janus was supposed to be my personal and the head advisor. Even though he was only nineteen when I made his position official, he was and still is wise beyond his years."

"My my, getting sappy on me, my king?" Janus jested.

"Always," Roman joked, affection for his adviser and friend warming his chest.

There was a small pause before Logan said, "Ah, I got us off topic with my question, I believe you were asking about things you could do to make Patton feel more comfortable?"

Roman finally looked away from Janus. "Yes, that's correct."

"Well, I'd imagine— er…" Logan exhaled. "From experience, I know that since he's most likely dealt with food scarcity, it's important to make sure that he has a good relationship with food, even if it takes a while to get there. I'd recommend making a plan with Dr. Picani."

"Mm, good idea."

"Perhaps we could give him some non-perishable snacks that he could keep in his room," Janus suggested. "That way he can hide them wherever he wants and doesn't have to worry about them being taken away."

"Yes, that's a good idea as well. I'll talk to Emile about getting the nutrition he needs as well as the head chef about non-perishable snacks. Thank you both for the help." 

Roman stood and Logan hastened to do the same before bowing.

"You're welcome, sire."

Roman inclined his head. Even though he'd told Logan that he didn't have to stand and bow every time Roman came and went —especially in close company—, he still seemed to feel the need to anyway.

"See you later, my king," Janus said in that sly tone that suggested that he knew something the other person didn't, although Roman couldn't think what, so it was most likely that Janus was just messing with him.

"Have a good rest of your day."

As Roman went back to his kingly duties, he couldn't get Janus' soft smirk out of his head.

…Well, Janus did have a rather nice face.

-

In hindsight, maybe Roman should have realised that throwing a big party to announce and introduce his ward wasn't the best idea for a traumatised kid.

He felt bad but it was why he was all the more grateful that Logan had told him to give Patton somewhere to go to if he was feeling overwhelmed.

Roman wasn't sure if Patton would want company, but he'd at least check on him while Janus distracted some of the guests. Janus could be quite crafty and easily turned people's attention away from disappearing royal members. His charm seemed to naturally come to him in an almost genuine way, and if Roman hadn't seen him without it, hadn't seen his snide, passive aggressiveness, and sarcastic nature behind closed doors, he'd have no idea that wasn't Janus' genuine personality.

Roman sighed. He really didn't get out to the maze often enough, he was pretty sure that he was pretty lost and wasn't quite sure how to fix that problem. Fire magic was certainly out of the question, the gardener —an older, pleasant enough woman— would not be happy about a path carved through, even if Roman kept it contained and didn't burn down the whole maze. She loved plants and took pride in her work, besides, it just seemed like a shame to mess up part of the maze like that just because Roman was bad when it came to outdoor directions.

Ah, what was it that Janus had said? Stick to the left wall and as long as the maze itself doesn't change, that even if it takes longer, eventually you'll find the exit. Or in this case, the center.

Roman walked along the left hedge wall with his hand running along it for a minute before a sudden pain blossomed between his first finger and thumb.

"Ah!" Roman frowned at the bleeding cut. While he was proficient in some kinds of magic, healing magic was certainly not his forte.

Roman pulled out his red handkerchief and wrapped it around the wound —he could always deal with it later, right now he needed to check on Patton—, and continued walking.

It was several minutes before he came out into the large, open garden that was nicknamed 'The Jewel Of The Maze'. 

The fireflies glittered about, echoing the stars above as both were reflected in the water of the large fountain in the very center of the garden.

Patton and Logan sat side by side on a bench that faced the fountain and it sounded like they were talking quietly but any conversation died down as Roman approached them.

Logan inclined his head towards Roman. "Greetings."

"Hello, Logan. Hello, Patton." 

Patton didn't say anything, just looked at his twisting fingers in his lap.

Roman walked closer and sat on the edge of the fountain wall directly in front of Patton and Logan. "I'm sorry, Patton."

"...What for? I'm the one who ran away for no reason."

"It didn't seem like no reason to me."

"He's right, Patton. You were overwhelmed and needed a break. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I completely understand getting overwhelmed, we may have gone a bit overboard with the guest list." Roman huffed. "Actually, I'd disappear from parties and events frequently. Fortunately, Janus is good at keeping a crowd entertained, and sometimes even from noticing key guests' absences or at the very least explaining where they've gone that's an acceptable excuse for the public. So take all the time you need."

"Okay, thank you."

"Of course. Really that was bad planning on my part, but I'll do better next time."

"Still, I should've been able to handle it."

"I don't see how you healthily could've," Logan said not unkindly. "I presume it was your first event of that magnitude?"

"...Yeah."

"Also, it was a lot of people and noise, and a lot of focus on you. You'd never been to an event like that before, so it's quite understandable that you needed a break. You handled it quite well, and I'm glad you recognised that you needed to leave and then did so before you were really overwhelmed and possibly had an anxiety attack or began crying. You did well under the circumstances."

"Oh, I— thanks, Logan."

Logan gave Patton a small smile. "You're welcome."

Patton looked back at Roman before saying, "Oh! What happened to your hand?"

Roman looked down at his handkerchief-wrapped hand to see if maybe he'd bled through it, but he hadn't. "Ah, I cut it on a branch in the maze."

Patton frowned before standing up and walking over. "May I see it please?"

"I… suppose so?"

Patton carefully unwrapped Roman's hand and examined it, turning it this way and that. "Hmm." 

A little ball of floating light appaired a few feet above them and Roman belatedly realised that Patton must've summoned it with his magic.

"So, what's the diagnosis, physician?" Roman joked.

"Oh, it's just a small cut, the blood around it just makes it seem bigger than it is, but we don't want it to get sick so—"

"Sick?" Logan asked.

"Yeah, when it's all extra painful, and it's all pink."

"Ah, there's a word for that: infection. So it'd be 'we don't want it to get infected'."

"Oh, okay. You're so smart, Logan!"

Logan smiled softly. "Thank you." 

"You don't have to worry about me, Patton. I'll take it to Emile in a bit."

"Yeah, you could. Or… well, I could just heal it."

"You can do that?"

"Yeah, isn't… isn't it the easiest kind of magic?"

Roman smiled. "Well, it depends. Magicians tend to have a category or two of magic that comes easier to them. Healing magic is pretty much impossible for me, but it could certainly be the kind of magic that you excel in."

"Oh, that's cool. Um, is it okay if I heal it?"

"If you want to. I really don't mind taking it to Emile though."

"Okie dokie." Patton focused on the wound and raised his hand just above it.

Roman blinked and the cut was gone, even the blood that'd been drying around it had vanished. "Exemplary!" He flexed his hand experimentally. It didn't even ache. 

"That was most impressive," Logan complimented. 

"Oh." Patton beamed under their praise. "Thanks."

Roman patted the fountain wall next to him and Patton sat down next to him.

"What other types of magic do you know?" Logan asked.

"Well, I…" Patton's shoulders drooped a bit. "Um, I guess I can sustain fire magic for hours at a time, I don't really like to though."

"Ah, of course. Apologies, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's okay!" Patton winced. "Ach, wait, sorry. Sometimes I just interrupt without thinking."

Roman assured, "It's alright, Patton. We know it wasn't on purpose. You were just trying to assure Logan."

"Yeah."

"Oh, hey, Patton? Would you like for me to show some more magic?"

Patton's eyes widened. "Really?! Uh, I mean… if you want to, I'd really like that."

"I want to. Here, hold your hand out like this." Roman held his palm out towards the starry sky and Patton copied him. Roman pushed a bit of his magic to the center of his hand and up, forming a red butterfly.

"Oh! Cool! Can I try?"

"Of course! There's some magic that might be a bit more tricky or even dangerous that you wouldn't want to do without the proper precautions, but a simple energy construct

is perfectly harmless."

"Okay." Patton focused on his hand and after a few seconds a small, sky-blue butterfly appeared, it was slightly translucent and quite sparkly as beginner magicians' constructs tended to be. Patton gasped excitedly. "I did it!"

"You sure did!"

"Hm, that's interesting," Logan said absentmindedly.

"What's interesting?"

"Ah, just that your magic is red which seems to be at least one of your favourite colours, and Patton's is a light blue which is his. In addition, I've seen Janus' magic glow yellow which seems to be his as it's the only colour other than black that he wears."

"Very astute observation, Logan. When making constructs with one's magic it's the favourite colour of the person… well, or at least one they like a lot. Not everyone necessarily only has one favourite colour. But anyway, you're right. Another magician you know would be Remus, his favourite colour is green, hence why he wears it a lot."

"That's coo—" Patton lost concentration and the butterfly disappeared. "Oops, sorry." He put his hand down again.

"It's alright. It's easy to do! I was impressed that you held it as long as you did, and especially after you'd made the butterfly on the first try after having only seen me do it once." Roman dropped his hand and his butterfly vanished as well. "Do you think you're ready to go back to the party, or shall we call it a night and go to bed?"

"Um…"

"Either is a perfectly acceptable option."

"Okay… I think I wanna try the party again. I'm a bit more ready since I know what to expect this time."

"Alright. Oh, I do want to apologise again for not preparing you properly. I should've warned you better and tried to do something to make it not as overwhelming. Like for one thing, the guest list was far too long. I should've kept it smaller."

"Well… it is what it is. It's easy to say 'oh I should've done this or that' but you didn't know then what you know now."

"That's very true, Patton."

"You're quite emotionally intelligent."

"Thanks, Logan."

"What about a background blocker? I don't know how to do it, but I know that Janus does."

"Hmm, what does it do exactly?"

"It just muffles the background noise so that it's not as overwhelming. You can still have conversations and notice if someone's yelling for whatever reason, but other people's chatter isn't as loud."

"That sounds good… oh, well, as long as it's not too difficult."

"I don't think it would be for him, but we can ask." Roman turned to Logan. "Did you want to go with us, Logan?"

"Sure. I might retire a bit early though, I'd like to finish my book on Sir Charles the third before I sleep."

"Sounds good." Roman stood up, Patton and Logan following him to an opening into the maze. "Uh… you wouldn't happen to know the way, would you Logan?"

"No, sire."

"Hmm…"

"I think I do," Patton piped up. "I knew which way to go before getting here."

"Ah, your intuition magic must've kicked in— Wait, then how did Logan get through it?"

"I followed Patton."

"Well, then." Roman bowed with one hand on his chest and the other one out, gesturing to the opening in the maze. "After you, oh great guide."

-

"Patton!" Roman cried out, feeling his blood go cold and stomach drop as Patton collapsed.

Janus was only just able to catch Patton before he fell to the stone floor.

Roman rushed over. "Is he okay?"

"...Yes, for now. He's breathing and his pulse is a bit erratic, yet somehow slow, but it's there."

Virgil all but ran up, eyes darting around in suspicion. "Give him here, we need to get him to Emile. Remy! Damnit, where are yo—"

"Here! Right here." Remy's usual smirk was nowhere to be found, a serious and focused look on his face instead.

"Okay, lock it down. I'm taking Patton to the infirmary."

"Yes, sir."

Logan smelled the cup that Patton had been drinking from and frowned. "Mr. Hierophant, would you please come smell this?"

Janus carefully tucked Patton in Virgil's arms before taking the goblet from Logan, and after smelling it, his expression also soured. "It's poisoned."

"That's what it seemed like to me as well."

Roman glanced around the dining hall before he bit his lip momentarily and said, "Okay. Janus, can you help the guards lock everything down? You're so much better with smoothing things over."

"Of course. Logan, come with me."

"Yes, sire."

Roman was just about to rush after Patton but quickly turned back to Janus. "Oh, wait, give me the goblet. I'll take it with me for Emile to identify." 

…

This was all Roman's fault. 

Who would poison Patton? He was just a kid, and an extremely sweet one at that.

Had that cup been intended for Roman? Or had someone just wanted to get at Roman by poisoning his ward?

Roman sighed and looked over at the unconscious Patton, wishing he was just sleeping instead.

Emile was currently in his office examining the poison and Roman just hoped he could make a cure from it.

It'd only been a short while since he'd arrived in the infirmary, but Roman's worry seemed to stretch the time far, far longer.

Eventually, Emile came out of his office, a solemn frown on his face.

Roman rushed to stand, almost knocking his chair over in the process. "What news have you?"

"Well, it's curable."

"That's—" Roman cut himself off. "I'm sensing a 'but'."

Emile nodded as he pushed up his glasses. "But the cure is quite a ways away."

"Of course it is," Roman said bitterly. "Where and how far away exactly?"

"The cure can be made from the flowers of the moondrop plant, but the dragon witch hordes all the known plants."

"Right. Will…" Roman gently looked at Patton. "Will you stay with him while I hold council?"

"Of course, Roman. I won't leave this room."

"Alright. Thank you, Emile."

…

Roman sat in the smaller of his two council rooms, around a round table with Virgil and Janus on his left and right respectively. Remus' and Emile's chairs stood empty as Remus was out of town and Emile was with Patton. Logan stood behind Janus' chair.

"Logan, you may as well sit in Emile's chair as he's watching over Patton under my request."

"Yes, sire." Logan sat down on Janus' other side.

"How is he?" Virgil asked.

"Emile's got him stable enough for now, but he needs the cure sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, the dragon witch is the only known person who has moondrops."

Janus pursed his lips. "Ah, that's at least a two-day journey. I'd like permission to be the one to get it."

"Granted."

"Sire, if I may." Logan adjusted his glasses.

"Of course, Logan. What is it?"

"I'd like permission to go as well."

"You're still rather young…" Roman thought back to all the adventures he and Remus had gone on when they were Logan's age and even younger. "But you've proven yourself quite adaptive, smart, and your self-defence fighting has come a long way. So, I will let Janus decide whether or not you'll go as he's the one leading this mission."

Janus nodded before he turned to Logan and considered him for a moment. "Alright. You may come, but if it gets too dangerous I want you to hide, and if you feel in over your head you tell me immediately. Those are my terms."

"Thank you. I accept your terms, sir."

Roman nodded once. "Good, now that we have that settled…" He turned to Virgil. "Virgil, do we know who's responsible for this disgusting act?"

"I believe so, yes. One Sir Richard Huxley."

His magic and anger burned in his stomach as Roman tried not to outright demand, "Why would be want to poison Patton? Is he planning a larger attack and this is just the start?"

"We suspect that the poisoned goblet was intended for you but got mixed up and Patton got it instead. I don't think he had a plan beyond this, but the castle is still on high alert in case anyone affiliated with him or opportunists want to try anything. Remy's talking with him right now, so we'll see what he can get out of him in regards to his plans."

Roman exhaled, letting some of the anger and tension leave his body. It wouldn't help Patton if his mind was clouded with anger. "Alright. Janus, Logan, start preparing for your departure as soon as possible, and may Osha guide you." Roman turned to Virgil. "Keep me informed, Virgil. I want to know as soon as you have more information. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the infirmary." The 'with Patton' went unsaid, but still was present as if it had been.

…

Roman was exhausted, a weariness settled deep into his bones, but he wouldn't, couldn't go to bed. He… he needed to be there in case something happened. It just didn't feel right to leave Patton here, even if the first mate of the guard, Remy, was standing watch just outside the infirmary doors.

Emile had long since gone to bed, but perhaps he could stay with Patton for a few hours the next morning while Roman got a bit of rest.

Roman sighed as he scrubbed his face with his hands.

He'd only do that if he really needed to. Sure, Emile would be here anyway, and Roman trusted Emile with his life —and had on several occasions before— but he couldn't help but feel that something bad would happen if he left Patton's side.

He just… needed to be here.

The door opened, startling Roman. All sleepiness left him as his senses went sharp and alert. His sword wasn't quite in arm's reach but it could be in a sec— Roman's shoulders sagged in relief when he saw that it was just Remus.

Remus looked almost a bit sheepish. "Hey, didn't mean to make you jump."

"It's fine."

"Burning the midnight oil, huh?"

"Yeah." Roman looked at Patton's sickly pale face, guilt twisting in his gut. 

What was the point of all his wealth and power if he couldn't prevent someone under his care from getting poisoned?

Roman looked back at Remus. "Didn't know you were back."

"Yeah, got the messenger fox and hightailed it back. Knew you'd need me here."

"Thanks." Roman pulled the blanket a bit higher on Patton.

Remus hummed before dragging a chair over by Roman's, not caring in the slightest as it made a screeching noise against the stone floor.

Roman huffed almost lightly. "You know how much Emile doesn't like it when you do that."

Remus smirked. "Why do you think I do it?"

Roman shook his head fondly. "He's going to make you remove the gouges and marks again."

"Well, that's just fine. 'S not like I'm gonna run out of magic."

Roman looked away to hide his small smile, but it easily fell when he saw Patton.

"He's gonna get better," Remus said, unusually solemn.

"...I hope so."

"He will," Remus assured. "Janny and little Lo are gonna get the moondrop and Emile is gonna make the cure and he's gonna be okay. It'll just take a few days."

"What— what if he doesn't have a few days?"

"Well… I— he's strong, Ro. He'd have to be to survive the initial first wave. Obviously the poison is still in his veins and has attached itself to him, but the first hour is the most critical. Now it's just a matter of waiting 'till Janny gets back."

Roman sighed. "Right, I just— am worried."

"Which is perfectly understandable. I… I am too, but I think that Pat's strong enough. I mean, fuck, he took a big swig of a fatal to adults dose of poison, and has survived the afternoon and evening with a good prospect. What other nine-year-olds can say that?"

Roman hummed. "True. And I… I know that, it's just… hard." He sniffed.

"Aww, hey, he's gonna be okay, you both are. …It's gonna be a rough few days, huh?"

Roman nodded, not trusting his voice.

Remus scooted his chair closer and guided Roman's head onto chaos' shoulder, one arm wrapped around him and the other patting his hair.

"Yeah, just let it all out, Ro-bro. Let that fear and worries out. I'm right here."

Roman nodded and buried his nose into Remus' fabric, taking a shaky breath as he began to cry.

They stayed like that for several minutes as Roman cried his eyes out. He still felt shitty, but a bit better as he finally pulled away and wiped his red-rimmed eyes.

"How ya doin'?" Remus asked, speaking quietly so as not to break the fragile silence.

"...A bit better, I think. It's… I'm still extremely worried."

"Which is okay and to be expected."

"But it's not quite as overwhelming as it was."

"Well, good. Oh!" Remus pulled a brown paper sack out of one of his magically large pockets. "I brought you some food by the way."

"It's not poisoned, is it?" Roman tried to joke but winced as he glanced at Patton. "That was both poor timing and a poor joke."

Remus snorted. "Just my type of humour! But no, I 100% made it myself 'n everything. Not poisoned. Besides, I only poisoned you that one time!"

"It was twice."

"Oh, shit, really? When was the other time? Ohh! Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten about the summersnow moss I'd put in your apple mint pie." Remus shook chaos' head. "Man, that was so long ago."

"Hah, yeah. It sure was."

Remus hummed before handing Roman the brown paper sack. "Anyway, here ya go."

"Thanks." Roman took out the sandwich and had eaten a fourth of it before he realised and tried to slow down a bit.

"I figured you'd probably skipped supper 'cuz of the adrenaline and all the worry, besides, who doesn't love a midnight snack?"

"Strangely enough, Logan."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, he read in a book somewhere that it was bad for you and can cause indigestion if you eat too close to bedtime."

Remus laughed. "Mr. Know-it-all's got it all figured out, huh?"

"Mm, not really."

"Yeah, he's got a lot to learn. I mean, he's already learned so much, and quickly, but he's still got a ways to go. Well, not that learning is ever done… but anyway, there's still a ways 'till he's as ready for adulthood as he can be."

"Hah, true. Is anyone ever actually ready for adulthood? I know we sure weren't."

"Eh, maybe that's just a part of it. Part of learning to be ready for adulthood is the random shit that life throws at you while you're an adult."

"That is… surprisingly insightful of you."

"Well, you know me, full of surprises… and something else."

"Shit and hot air."

"Yep, bingo!"

Roman just rolled his eyes. Remus never got tired of that joke.

Roman finished his sandwich and put the bag on the nightstand near the infirmary bed before smoothing back Patton's hair and sitting down.

"I—" Roman frowned. "Wait, Patton has really great intuition, like, he told Janus that he may say his favourite animal is a snake, but that Patton knew that it was actually a honey badger."

"...Okay?"

"But then why didn't it go off when he was about to drink the poison? Does it not work for danger somehow? Because if that's the case, that'd be quite bad. That's when it'd be the most helpful."

"Oh, hmm… I would think it goes off for danger too, but then why… maybe— hm, yeah maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"Okay, this may be one of my two good thoughts this year, but… maybe his intuition told him to drink it?"

"What? Why! Remus, that makes absolutely no sense."

"No, no, hear me out! From what I've heard, intuition can be frustratingly vague, but if it told him to take that one, he would, right?"

"...Yeah? I still don't see where you're going with this though."

"Well, maybe it knew that you wouldn't be able to handle that much and that volatile of a poison, but that Patton would. His internal healing powers are the only thing that kept him from death's door, right? Like I said, it would've been a fatal dose for an adult."

"I— you don't really think…" Roman exhaled deeply. "That certainly sounds like Patton. I could see his intuition guiding him to be poisoned to save my life, even if Patton didn't exactly understand all that at the time."

Remus hummed in agreement and they sat there, Roman watching Patton and Remus watching Roman.

"You need sleep," Remus finally said.

"...Yeah. I just— can't leave him, you know? How am I supposed to sleep when he's here, unconscious and sick?"

Remus exhaled before gently saying, "There's not anything you can do for him right now, nothing except take care of yourself."

"I… I should be here with him."

"And you have been, but he'd want you to take care of yourself. How are you gonna be awake enough to talk to him when he wakes after Emile gives him the cure if you haven't gotten much sleep? Sure, you'll accidentally fall asleep at some point, but you need proper rest."

"Well…" Roman blinked tiredly.

"Come on, Ro. I'll stay here all night… and may knock you out with my morning star if you say no," Remus teased in a sing-song tone. "So, let me spend some time with my basically-nephew. Okay?"

Roman's shoulders slumped and he knew that Remus was right. "Okay." Bed did sound particularly good right then, his achy muscles agreeing. "Just… keep him safe, okay?"

Remus nodded solemnly. "Of course, always."

"Alright…" Roman stood up and looked at Patton. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

"See you later! Can't believe you're making me be all responsible and shit," Remus joked.

Roman huffed. "Actually you volunteered— no, worse, threatened me, so it's only on you."

"Darn," Remus said sarcastically.

"Goodnight."

" 'Night!"

Roman walked to the double doors and opened one, slipping through. He looked back at Remus and Patton one last time, smiling softly as Remus began to read a storybook to Patton's sleeping form, and quietly shut the door.

Roman said 'goodnight' to Remy, put a small charm on the doors and went to bed.

It was going to be a long few days.

-

Roman almost cried in relief when Janus and Logan returned with Patton's cure, and did actually cry a bit when Patton woke up, wiping his damp eyes as he greeted Patton.

"Hey, Pat. How are you feeling?"

"Mm, throat hurts." Patton furrowed his brow and closed his eyes. "Head too."

Roman hadn't even opened his mouth to ask someone to get some water when Janus appeared by his elbow handing him a half-full glass.

Roman helped Patton drink and afterward, to settle back against the pillows. He set the cup on the bedside table in case Patton wanted more later.

There was so much he wanted to say to Patton; he wanted to say how very glad he was that he was okay, he wanted to thank him —and perhaps scold him just a bit— for drinking the poison that was meant for Roman… but instead, he just said, "Glad to see you awake. Um, Emile's making you some tea, by the way. I believe he said that it should help with the headache and sore throat that he figured you'd have. Uh, he also said that he can do some yarrow compresses for any aching muscles, but I'm getting ahead of myself."

Patton nodded before looking around the infirmary room, eyes landing on Janus and Logan who were hanging back to give them some space. "Hi," Patton said tiredly, but clearly glad to see them.

They came a bit closer as Logan said, "Hello, Patton. I'm glad to see that you're awake now."

"Glad to be awake. Is everyone okay?"

"Yes," Janus answered. "Everyone's okay. Virgil and Remy locked things down quickly and found the person who," Roman noticed the briefest hesitation, although he doubted that it was noticeable to the children, "Poisoned you."

"Oh, good. Was he working alone?"

"Fortunately, yes."

"Well, all's well that ends well."

Roman laughed. "I suppose you're right.

…

Patton soon fell asleep after that, but that was to be expected as he desperately needed the rest.

Logan sat on the bed next to Patton, claiming that it was so Patton wouldn't feel alone as he slept, but Roman knew that Logan was also sitting there to assure himself that Patton was indeed okay.

After Logan's eyes started drooping, Janus pulled himself up a chair next to Roman's and by the time he looked up, Logan was laying next to Patton, almost curled around him, and asleep as well.

"He had a big day," Janus murmured.

"Mm, we all did. I'd imagine that your quest was quite strenuous."

"It was, but he was quite remarkable," Janus murmured softly, nothing but pride in his voice.

"I have no doubt."

"I would tell you about it, but I believe he wanted to. It's pretty late though, and we had a long day." Janus gave a short quiet laugh. "Well, we all did. But I highly doubt that he'll wake up anytime soon, so it'll have to be tomorrow."

"Speaking of being late, you should go to sleep."

"So should you," Janus pointed out knowingly.

"Hey, I slept some…"

"I presume under threat by Remus?"

"...Yeah."

"That's what I thought, so now I'm the one threatening you," Janus said, voice light.

"Oh, really? And what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to squeeze you like a python."

"...So you're going to give me a hug? And here I thought it was going to be something I wouldn't like. Maybe I shouldn't go then."

"Okay, while that's an excellent point, you should still sleep."

"As should you. You've been traveling all day."

"And you've been watching over Patton all day. Go to bed."

"I will later. You go."

"I will later. You go," Janus mimicked.

"W—"

The door quietly opened and Virgil peered in before quietly shuffling in and closing the door behind himself. "Hey," Virgil whispered. "What's going on?"

"Roman won't go to sleep," Janus said.

Roman said at the same time, "Janus won't go to sleep."

Virgil huffed and seemed to be repressing a laugh. "Well, it's a good thing that I'm here to watch over Patton then." They glance at Logan's sleeping face. "And Logan now too."

"Oh, thank you."

"Sounds like a compromise to me," Janus said. "See you gents in the morning?"

Virgil gave a two-finger salute. "Of course, Jan."

"Goodnight," Roman said, accidentally sounding wearier than he meant.

Hopefully Patton would be a lot more awake and aware, and on the mend the next day.

…

The next day, Patton was well enough to get around with a cane, as long as someone was with him in case he fell, and if he took a few breaks. Fortunately, there were more than just a few benches throughout the castle, some even with a magnificent view of the surrounding rolling hills and autumn leaves.

It was a nice day and Emile had said that some sunshine would be good for Patton, so Roman decided that it'd be nice if they had a picnic lunch in the courtyard.

After they ate, Logan and Janus told of their quest to get the Moondrop plant for Patton.

"—And then after we'd gone through the tunnels in the mountain," Logan was saying, "There was a large dragon in an even larger cavern. Her scales glittered like silver and gold and smoke curled out of her nose. She seemed quite angry to be disturbed so Janus went into a fighting stance but we hadn't even tried any diplomacy yet. She was just angry because she'd rather be left alone and every so often people will try to fight her for her treasure, but once I explained our situation and that we didn't want to fight or her treasure, we had no problem getting along."

"We have a new ally now," Roman said.

"A new friend," Logan corrected. "She just wants to be left alone for the most part. Malcana —oh, that's her name by the way— said that we could visit though."

"That's really cool, Logan! You're so brave. Were you scared to face the big dragon?" Patton asked.

"Yes, but being brave is doing the right thing despite being scared, and I knew that Janus would get us out of there if it went wrong."

"Well, I'm glad I have your confidence," Janus said, a small and gentle smile on his face.

Roman was so glad that they were all okay, that his… his family was okay. Gratitude filled his heart as he looked from Patton to Logan to Janus.

They were going to be okay.

-

Roman had never felt such hot rage and betrayal in his life. In fact, the only time he'd ever been anywhere near this mad before was at the person who'd poisoned Patton.

Things had been going well, a little too well, in fact. So, Roman had expected something bad to happen… but this, this went beyond even Virgil's worrying and doomsday scenarios. 

Janus, the man who'd been by his side for over a decade, had been playing the long game, and who knows how much longer it would've gone on if a servant that'd worked for Janus' father —before he'd died eleven years prior—, hadn't come forward with the information that Janus' father had instructed Janus to get close to Roman and corrupt or overthrow him.

Roman almost didn't believe it, couldn't really. He'd thought, surely this person was lying, but he couldn't help but wonder… couldn't help but doubt.

So, he'd gone to talk to Janus about it, but it'd quickly gotten out of hand, Roman full-on accusing him of everything he'd heard.

But that hadn't been the worst part, Roman would've felt bad enough if Janus had been offended that he'd even suggested that, but he wasn't, he didn't deny it at all. And that was worse, way worse.

Janus just looked at the ground, something heavy and almost sad in his eyes. "I'm sorry—"

"I don't want your— your bullshit apologies. We've known each other for… fuck, for fourteen years and this entire time, you've been plotting behind my back! I have absolutely no idea to the extent of all the terrible, horrible things you've done, and what was done in my name. I just— I don't even know what to think, what even is the appropriate reaction and punishment for— for this!"

"If I could—"

"No, you can't! Be quiet," Roman growled.

Janus quieted instantly and Roman would've felt bad if Janus hadn't just utterly betrayed him. 

Roman rambled on, "After all these years, after I've trusted you for over a decade, only to find that you have betrayed me in this way. Do you know how many times I have stood up for you! What great conquests and burdens I had taken on for you at my own expense! It didn't really seem consequential at the time as I did it out of a place of love, but after…" Roman growled, low and frustrated. "You really are the snake they all claim you to be. Did you even poison Patton just to 'cure' him??"

This got Janus' attention as he jerked his head up. "Of course not—"

"How can I trust that you're telling the truth?! I can't help but wonder if you recruited Logan and forced him to work for you or face staying on the streets to starve to death!"

"No! I care for Logan dearly! Just— just let me explain myself, please!" Janus asked, practically begged, but Roman won't have it. 

"I—" Roman sighed deeply. "I'm too angry for this right now, but I'll consider it and… and what you've done later when I've calmed down."

"...Yes, sire."

Roman briefly considered putting Janus in jail, but that'd cause a scene and he really didn't want this to get out unless Roman chose to tell people.

Besides, Janus was such a skilled magician and had been the one to fortify it so there'd really be no point anyway. If he wanted to escape, Roman had no doubt that he could. He just hoped that he'd cooperate.

"I will escort you to your room where there will be a constant guard outside your door, and I'll be very pissed if you leave."

"I wouldn't," Janus said softly, and Roman almost believed him, until he remembered that he'd been lying to Roman since they'd first met years and years ago.

"I should hope you'd know well enough to stay, yes."

Roman opened the door to Janus' study without another word and led Janus through the halls they were both homely familiar with, closely keeping track of him, lest he disappear. 

Maybe he shouldn't have put the figurative backstabber in a position where he could be a literal backstabber, but Roman had thought it'd be awkward if he was hearding Janus along from behind, but now he wasn't sure. It was kind of too late anyway, it'd just seem like he had no idea what he was doing if he changed their positions now… although he really didn't know what he was doing, and Janus knew him so well that he no doubt knew that as well.

Roman had thought that he'd known Janus as well… but clearly not.

"...Where are we going?" Janus asked quietly like he knew how volatile Roman was because of course he did.

It was rather disturbing how well Janus knew him, and even more so that Roman had no idea what he knew about Janus. What had been truth and what had just been a fabrication?

"I thought I told you earlier," Roman almost winced at his snappish tone. "You're bound to your quarters."

"That's what I thought. Unless you moved them, my quarters are nowhere near here." Janus was still talking in that annoyingly gentle and careful tone. At least if he had been using his manipulating, honey-sweet voice Roman would feel more justified in being a jerk, but no, Janus had to be considerate sounding.

Maybe that was how he was trying to manipulate Roman? He would be more likely to know how to get on Roman's good side after all. Or maybe that's just how he was talking and Roman was putting stuff on him that wasn't there. It was practically impossible to tell and that really bothered Roman.

"Well… that's because we have a stop first." Roman took stock of where they were, trying to think of something. Oh! The guard's house was near here. Perfect. "I've got to get Virgil or Remy to guard your room."

"Mm, I see. Quick thinking."

Roman almost snapped at him, but he couldn't even tell if Janus was being sarcastic or not so he let it go.

The garrison was reasonably full for the time of early evening when Roman and Janus arrived; the change of the guard was fairly soon after all.

"Oh, hey, how can I help you gents?" Remy said after he took a big sip of his coffee.

"I need to talk to you and Virgil… in your office."

Remy's expression turned serious. "Of course. Cap Virgil's not here right now, he went to go check on the wallies —you know how they think they can get away with more just because they're all the way out on the castle wall—, but I can get someone to go get him if you want."

Roman resisted the urge to sigh. "...No, that's alright. I'll tell you and we can leave a note for when he returns. I just need one of you right now anyway."

They went into the office that Virgil and Remy shared and Remy shut the door behind them.

"Okay, so what's up? Something of national security I presume?"

"Yes, I— I'm not exactly sure how to say this but… Janus has been compromised and will need to subtly be confined to quarters."

Remy's eyebrows raised above his sunglasses. "Janus?"

"Yes."

"Okay, but… Janus? The Janus that's been here longer than I have? The Janus that's been here longer than even Cap Virgil? Your adviser Janus Hierophant? That Janus?"

"Yes," Roman said tightly. "That Janus."

"Unfortunately," Janus muttered and Roman wasn't sure if he was supposed to hear that so he ignored it.  

Besides, it was just easier to ignore Janus, lest Roman actually lose his temper and say something he shouldn't.

"...Right, okay." Remy pushed his glasses up his nose and seemed to gather himself. "So, what's the plan exactly?"

"I want either you or Virgil right outside his door at all times. You can split up the time however you'd like, but you two are the only guards I trust for this. No one else is to know about this and if they ask it's for Janus' safety."

Remy scoffed quietly. "Janus is the most powerful sorcerer I know so I don't know how believable that is, but will do."

"Well, just…" Roman sighed. "I don't know. It's just an 'extra level of security' or something. Talk to Virgil about it when he relieves you or at least comes to talk to you later. I'm… I know I'm not the most prepared for this, and I know it shows, but just…"

"Yeah, I get it, your majesty."

"I just never thought—" Roman cut himself off as he realised that Janus was still in the same room. He was good at fading into the background when he wanted to or even on accident when he was quiet. Virgil also had the same… problem? Skill, perhaps? Roman supposed it just depended on what they were using it for.

"Well, if there's nothing else, I've got it from here. I'll leave a note for Cap Virgil then take Janus to his room. Besides, if you don't mind me saying, you look like you could use some rest or at least some time to yourself."

"I— yes. And… thank you."

"Of course, have a good evening, your majesty."

"I really am sorry," Janus murmured as Roman passed by, some emotion in his voice that Roman just couldn't quite get a grasp on.

Roman left with only one glance back, something indescribable in Janus' eyes that made Roman's heart drop and stomach twist at the same time. It was almost soft and quite a bit of hurt, but that didn't quite seem right. Maybe it was best to just leave it at indescribable.

He just… felt so betrayed. He'd really thought that he knew Janus, but now…

But now it was painfully clear that he didn't.

Roman sniffed softly as he walked down the empty halls, trying to focus on the tapestry along the walls instead of the urge to cry that was quickly welling up inside of him.

It was just a lot and… it was certainly something to sleep on.

-

Despite thinking that he'd sleep on it, he didn't get much sleep.

There had been —and really still was— just so much to think about that it'd been difficult to quiet down his thoughts enough to fall asleep for several hours, and on top of all that he'd woken up early and absolutely exhausted.

Roman allowed himself to lay in bed for longer than he usually did, but eventually, the thoughts in his head were too much, so he got up, got dressed, and went to the throne room.

Virgil was there, frowning at something on a piece of paper before he looked up. "Oh, hey, Roman." He paused for a second, probably considering how he wanted to word his next words. "...Are you wanting a status report?"

"I… sure, yeah. Yes, thank you." Roman sat on the ornate red and gold throne as Virgil approached, stepping up the few steps to the small stage-like platform that the throne was on.

Virgil adjusted his armour before speaking, "Okay, I saw Remy's note and he'd marked the switch-off times so I kept watch from ten to three in the morning. Then Remy took over again and I'll go relieve him at eight. The night was quiet enough, but that's just because Janus chose to stay. To be honest, I highly doubt that we could've stopped him if he'd actually wanted to escape."

"Yeah, I… I kind of knew that. Just felt better with someone I could trust watching him."

"...May I ask what happened?"

"He— he's a traitor to the kingdom. An old servant of Janus' late father came forward with the information just yesterday. I… I'm not really sure what to do," Roman quietly admitted.

"He's not—" Virgil cut himself off with a sigh. "What'd Janus say?"

"Oh, well… I may have been too angry and told him to shut up… yeah. But I'm planning on talking to him tod—"

"I don't think he's guilty!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… I mean, I don't think he's guilty… at least anymore."

"Okay, now I'm even more confused."

"Janus and I knew each other before… before you knew and recruited us."

Roman raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"...Yeah."

"Since when?!"

"Since always? What do you mean 'since when'?"

"I— okay, point taken. But, why didn't either of you tell me?"

"Well… not only was it not relevant, but Janus wanted to keep his background clear, and being a teenager who was put over child soldiers isn't exactly the best job reference when trying to get close to a crowned prince, ya know?"

"Oh, so he… he really was planning this from the beginning."

"Well, no. He didn't. His father on the other hand… okay, listen, Janus' father was a very… let's say controlling man, and if he wanted something to get done, then it would happen, one way or another. So, while that was what Janus had been there to do, and planned on doing for a while, it's not a reflection of who he is today. He doesn't want any harm to come to you, Roman, and has actually prevented you from getting hurt many different times. 

"Multiple times now, he's come with me with some threat or plot against you that someone was trying to carry out and we stopped it without you ever knowing. 

"Sure, he's cunning and certainly the type who could play out the long game, but not with you. Not anymore. I've known him since we were kids and… 

"Anyway, you didn't see him when he decided that he didn't want to try and corrupt or overthrow you anymore. I've never seen him so distraught before. Just— just the amount of remorse… he swore himself to you that day and I was his witness. He cares about you and… and I probably shouldn't tell you this but I'm pretty sure I heard him crying last night."

"...Crying?"

"Yeah, and you know how frequently he does that."

"I've… I've, uh, never seen him cry before."

"Exactly. He just doesn't! But this, possibly losing you, that's striking him to his core." Virgil paused, but as Roman didn't say anything, he continued, "Look, I'm not saying all is forgiven or that this solves everything, but just… talk to him, let him talk, and hear him out. Maybe he's changed, okay? Just don't lose him because of your pride."

Roman nodded, something heavy in his stomach. "Alright. I… I'll talk to him."

"That's all I ask. Just let him explain."

"Right. My anger has settled considerably since yesterday and with everything you've said… well, there's a lot to consider."

…

Roman was walking through the castle halls aimlessly, considering Virgil's words when Patton and Logan approached him. 

Logan's brow was furrowed as he said, "Apologies for bothering you, sire, but Janus wasn't at breakfast and when we went to go see him," Logan looked around to check that no one was there, "Sir Remy said he couldn't let us in as Janus needed extra security. Is there a threat? And is there anything we can do to assist you?"

"Oh, that. Um…"

"I don't want him to get hurt like I did," Patton said softly. "So if there's something we can do to help…"

"That's really sweet of you both, but I can't really think of an— oh, well…" Roman glanced around before continuing, "There is one thing. Has either of you seen anything suspicious? Or like, has anyone made you uncomfortable?"

"Nope." Patton shook his head for emphasis.

"What kind of suspicious?" Logan asked, instantly attentive.

"Oh, just like, I don't know, someone lurking around, or looking like they're not supposed to be there." Those wouldn't apply to Janus but Roman was pretending that it wasn't him. Plus, it's not like it was bad things to ask about in general. He had full confidence in Virgil's security, but it didn't hurt to check. "Or maybe someone telling you not to tell anyone about something they did or said. Just, that type of thing."

"Hmm, I haven't seen anyone who fits that description, but I'll keep an eye out."

"Right, well, I just wanted to check, but…" Roman made a split-second decision. "We believe the danger's actually over now, so I just wanted to make sure that no one had said or done anything like that, or maybe even bribed you. Just stuff like that."

"Ah, well, no one's bribed me—"

"Same," Patton interjected.

"But even if they did I would've let you or Janus kn… oh." 

Roman winced as the revelation dawned on Logan's face. Logan was very smart and had clearly put two and two together. Roman just hoped that he would be sensible enough not to discuss it in front of Patton.

"I see, well… have a good visit with Janus, and I'm glad the danger passed."

It was rather amazing that he even had deduced that in the first place. Janus was definitely the person that Logan trusted the most, so to even think that he had been the danger…

"Yes, I am as well. Virgil was a big help to the investigation."

"Ah, sir Virgil is quite good at his job."

"Yeah, he's super cool!" Patton agreed.

"Well, I will let you go let Janus know that the danger has passed. Patton and I might go read some then. He's been learning at a good rate."

"Yeah! Yesterday I recognized the word strawberry!"

"Oh, well, good job, Patton! And thank you, Logan, for helping Janus teach him to read."

"Of course. Have a good rest of your morning."

"You two as well."

"Bye!" Patton waved as they left and Roman waved in return.

…

"Good morning, Remy," Roman greeted as he stopped outside Janus' door.

"Good morning. How's… it going?"

"Good, really good actually. The danger's passed."

Roman could see it in Remy's eyes and his shoulders as his relief washed over him. "Oh, good. I'm glad. I presume I can…" Remy pointed with his thumb down the hallway.

"Oh, yes. Yeah, have a good day, Remy, and thank you for keeping an eye on things."

"Of course! Have a good one."

After Remy left, Roman took a deep breath and opened Janus' door.

Janus set his book down and quickly stood, but didn't say anything.

Roman shut the door behind himself and walked into the room, still allowing Janus space though.

"So…" Roman started, but faded out as he wasn't sure where to go from there.

"So?" Janus asked, worry evident in his tone.

"So, I'm not so mad and am ready to talk. Virgil filled me in on some stuff, but I'd still like to hear some of it from you."

"Alright. What do you want to know?"

"Well…" Questions swirled in Roman's head, so he decided to start on an easier one. "How did you meet Virgil?"

"Virgil was a child soldier and I was over his unit, but before that, I was in the nanny ward taking care of children not even half my age. I've known Virgil since he was little. Literally."

"Oh… um, what was your relationship with your father?"

Janus' expression went sour. "That scumbag? I tried to do everything he wanted, including… trying to get close to you to kill, overthrow, or manipulate you, but I realised… I didn't have to do that anymore. There were other people out there who cared about people. Up until then, Virgil was the only person who wasn't an utter dick. But you showed me that people can be good. However, I couldn't quite find it in me to defy my father, so I didn't— couldn't do anything while he was alive.

"Fortunately, he'd had a lot of enemies and was assassinated soon enough. So after he died and I was free, I asked for time to better myself before becoming your advisor, and I did, by dismantling the child army and finding either their families if they were forcibly taken, or good orphanages if their parents had given them up for misbehaving or a price."

"Wait, that was you! You did that?"

A bit of the tension fell from Janus' shoulders. "Yes, but I didn't want the publicity, and especially not on the traumatised kids, so I kept it to myself. I think Virgil suspects though."

So far, Janus' story matched up with Virgil's in all the important ways… but he had to be sure that Janus had changed.

"Are you a danger to me, the kingdom, or the kids?"

"Well, of course I'd say I'm not, but since you're not sure you can trust me, that doesn't do much good, so… I'm afraid only you can answer that question."

Damn, Janus was —as usual— right. 

Roman stepped closer and stared into Janus' eyes, one light brown and one dark brown eye staring back. "I'd like to hear your answer anyway. Are you a danger?"

"No." There was fear hidden in some deep part of Janus' eyes, but Roman could tell that it wasn't a fear of being caught for lying, it was a fear of loss, of losing Logan and Patton, of losing Roman.

"Okay."

A bit of hope flittered in. "Okay?"

"Okay," Roman confirmed. "I believe you. It may take a bit to be able to fully trust you again, but… I believe you."

Janus let out a shaky breath, relief and disbelief evident as he all but collapsed into his singular armchair by the fireplace. "I understand it'll take time, but I thank you for the opportunity to prove myself to you again."

"And I'm… glad you want to. I'd… I'd be lost without you, Janus."

"I'd be lost without you as well, my king," Janus softly admitted.

-

Roman smiled to himself, full of pride, as he looked out the carriage window and recalled the events that'd taken place that day.

Logan and Patton had started a program together to help kids in situations like the ones they'd come from. It'd been in place for a month now —and about as much time since Roman had started trusting Janus again—, and once a week they would go to check on the progress in person.

Everything was going well in the program and Roman couldn't be prouder of Logan and Patton for their work in it. He'd seen how much work and effort they'd put into it, even if he'd only just seen the work they did from the castle.

This was Roman's first time going with them as he was usually too busy when they went to check on everything and help with things in person. Instead, Janus would take them, but this week, Roman had a lighter load and worked a bit harder yesterday to have the entire day free.

There was one week where Remus had taken them when Janus had too many meetings and not enough time, but that had gone about as well as Roman would've expected, especially as Remus didn't have Virgil with him and hadn't told Roman that he was taking them beforehand. Roman was ninety-five percent sure that Remus taught them several different ways to commit arson that day.

"King Roman?"

Roman blinked out of his thoughts and looked over. "Yes, Logan?"

"We're here."

Roman glanced out of the window before smiling. "Ah, so we are!"

They could've made the trip back to the castle that day, but they'd spent all day working and were already tired enough as it was, so Janus suggested that they stop at the inn in town for the evening.

Janus and Logan went inside to check in while Roman and Patton grabbed their bags. Roman hadn't exactly expected not to get home that day, but he was always prepared and had a few changes of clothes for everyone.

"Wait, did you hear that?"

Roman paused. "...No?"

"Hmm." Patton put his bag back and took off to the alleyway next to The Crumbling Knight Inn.

"Pat— and he's gone." Roman sighed and hastily copied Patton.

Patton was sitting rather far into the alley and was looking intently at some sort of animal across the alley from him. 

"Oh, you found a dog," Roman murmured as he quietly walked back and peered around the alley corner. 

The muddy dog carefully crept towards Patton and sniffed his outstretched hand before allowing him to pet her. 

"Aww, aren't you sweet!" Patton cooed as he glanced at Roman with fleeting, pleading eyes.

…Roman guessed they may very well have a dog soon.

Roman stepped around the corner and the dog eyed him suspiciously.

"She said she has no family. Can we keep her?"

"...The dog said that?"

"Well, not exactly 'said'… but I know what she means."

"I— alright, if you'll help take care of her, then sure. You absolutely may."

"Oh, I will! I'll take very good care of her!"

"Then we should give her some water and a snack and start a bath, then we can give her some more food if the other stays down."

"...She says she doesn't like baths, but she hates being covered in dried mud more, so she'll allow it this one time. Also, I think the promise of food helped."

"Well, then we only need to convince Janus and bribe the innkeeper."

…

As it turned out, the innkeeper needed more convincing than Janus, but after the extra money was laid down and Patton gave puppy dog eyes and even promised to clean up after the dog, she agreed.

All four of them sat at one of the tables in the inn's dining room, and the dog sat next to Patton —albeit on the floor, much to Patton's disappointment—. 

"I'm very glad your program is going well, Logan and Patton," Roman said after they'd eaten most of their food.

"Thank you. I was quite pleased with the progress as well."

"Yeah!" Patton exclaimed as he took the last biscuit from the now empty basket. "It's already helped quite a few kids." He took a big bite and rested his hand against his thigh before gasping. "Hey! That was my biscuit!"

The dog didn't pay Patton any mind though as she wolfed it down.

Janus pursed his lips ever so slightly and Roman instantly recognised that he was trying not to laugh. He seemed to recover quickly though and kindly said, "Here, Patton. I didn't end up eating my biscuit so you may have it."

"Oh, thanks! I'll be sure to hold it over my plate this time."

"Probably wise."

"...Oh hey! I know what we should name her now."

Roman raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Biscuit!"

"That does seem like a logical enough name for a dog," Logan agreed.

"...She says that's a good name, especially if she gets more biscuits sometime."

Roman laughed. "Well, we'll have to see about that."

-

Roman never would've been able to imagine that it was possible to care for so many people this much. His brother, Remus; Captain of the guard, Virgil; Logan Hierophant; Roman's ward, Patton; and Roman's adviser, Janus.

His care for them seemed to only be multiplying every day, and Roman was quite content to let it.

But lately his care for Janus was almost… changing? Not diminishing in any way, just… it was a bit different now.

Roman got up from the desk in his room and began pacing.

He wanted to be more physical with Janus for one thing, and while he liked some physical affection in general, this still felt different. He wanted to be near Janus more than he'd ever thought about. There was just something in Roman that pulled him to Janus.

He wanted to hold Janus' hand, to hug him, and to… wake up next to each other? 

He… he wanted to run his fingers through Janus' long, beautiful hair, to brush and braid his golden hair. Wanted to cup his cheek and lean in and—

Kiss Janus??

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, wow. How had Roman not seen that before, hadn't seen that coming? 

Roman sat down on his bed, legs feeling almost shaky under him as he laid back.

But now that he thought about it… it almost made sense.

Sure, one could think that one's friends were pretty, and one could want to be physically affectionate with them, but there was some feeling in Roman's gut that told him that this was different, something that told him that it wasn't strictly platonic.

…Now what?

Roman sat up.

Did he want to tell Janus? Or maybe wait? 

He wasn't sure what he'd be waiting on but he also didn't want to just rush into anything. How was he supposed to know what to do? He'd never been… been in love before.

Roman almost rolled his eyes at how obvious it was. Who did he know that would have some experience with romance? Remus and Virgil, of course. They were married after all.

Roman found Remus and Virgil quick enough, both relaxing in their shared quarters as they cuddled on one of their couches.

"Hey, Ro-bro! Wanna come on in and tell us what's on your mind?"

Roman shut the door behind himself. "That obvious, huh?" 

Remus rolled chaos' eyes. "Of course. There's clearly something on your mind, so what has your brain going in circles?"

"Yeah, we're here to listen and help if we can," Virgil agreed. 

"Well…" Roman sat down on the couch opposite Remus and Virgil. "I realised that I may… like Janus romantically?"

Remus snorted loudly as Virgil pursed his lips, probably to not do what Remus did.

"Did you only just learn that?" Remus asked, voice full of amusement.

Roman huffed. "Yes. Was it that obvious?"

"Oh, definitely. I thought you were just taking your sweet time asking him, but you didn't… man, talk about King Oblivious."

Roman huffed, pretending to be offended. "Wow, if I'd known that I'd just get insulted for my trouble—"

Virgil laughed. "No, we'll— well, I'll help at least. No guarantee for Remus though."

"Hey! I can be helpful too!"

"Sure."

"I— okay fair." Remus looked back at Roman. "So, what's the problem exactly?"

"Well, I think I'd like to tell him, but like…"

"You don't wanna fuck it up?"

"I wouldn't put it quite like that, but yes. I just— I really care about him and in one way it wasn't really all that long ago that I thought I might… might lose him. I just don't want to worry about possibly losing him again."

"I really don't think you'll lose him," Virgil said. "I…" They hesitated. "Even if he didn't like you back, he's not one for abandoning his friends."

Roman sighed. "Yeah, you're right. I'm just… nervous I guess."

Remus seemed to be taking this more seriously now. "Yeah, that's understandable. I was super nervous about asking Virgil, and waited so long that he ended up asking me." Remus laughed. "And he was probably more nervous than I was!"

"Oh, definitely. I was so anxious that I almost threw up."

…

After a bit more assurance from Virgil and some —light-hearted— badgering from Remus, Roman decided that he'd tell Janus soon, but especially as he'd only discovered his romantic feelings that day, he would give it some thought as to how he would ask Janus out.

Maybe he could do a big gesture first? Like a picnic perhaps? No, it was winter and far too cold. 

Should Roman just tell him? There wasn't much romance in that though… but maybe he was just overcomplicating things?

Roman's nerves had only doubled and he was still no closer to figuring out how to ask Janus out.

Roman sighed as he wandered through the hallways, lost in thought.

What if he got so worked up that he got too nervous to ask Janus at all? Maybe… maybe he should just ask now before his brain blew it out of proportion.

Before Roman quite realised what he was doing, he was walking towards Janus' room.

Roman took a deep breath and knocked on the door before he could chicken out.

"Come in," Janus called.

Roman opened the door and shut it behind himself. "Hello, Janus."

"Hello, Roman." Janus smiled before putting a bookmark in the book he'd been reading and setting it on the small side table next to the armchair. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Janus gestured Roman over. "I won't bite," He teased.

Roman huffed. "I know that."

"Then why do you look so nervous?" Janus raised an eyebrow.

Roman stopped by Janus' chair and almost wished that he'd thought to wear his regal attire or at the very least his crown. He really needed the confidence.

"Just… am?" Roman tried.

"Right," Janus said sarcastically, clearly not believing him. He seemed to realise how put upon Roman felt though as he suggested, "Why don't you sit down?"

"But there's not— oh!" Roman did his best not to squeak as a warm arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him down into Janus' lap.

"There, now you're closer to the fire. You're cold, you need to keep warm."

"I—" Roman was quite sure his cheeks were flushing. "Right, um. Yeah."

Fortunately, the chair was large enough for both of them, Roman sitting sideways in between Janus' legs with the backs of his knees on the armrest, feet dangling over the side. Janus' arm was still around Roman's waist, fingers splayed over his stomach. 

Roman wasn't really sure where to put his arm that was closer to Janus, and since it was a bit too late to put it in between himself and Janus as Janus had already pulled them pretty close together, Roman decided to put his arm around Janus' shoulders.

Janus laid his hand that was not wrapped around Roman on Roman's knee. "So, how'd you sleep last night?"

"Uh, pretty good. What about you?"

"...I should've expected you to ask me back."

Roman laughed. "I mean, that's kind of how small talk works usually."

"Hah, fair enough." Janus stared at the fire and Roman finally saw that it wasn't just shadow from the flame under Janus' eyes making him look tired. His shoulders were a bit heavy looking as well.

"So, how'd you really sleep?" Roman finally asked.

"Well, not very well. I don't know why. It's not like there was really anything to affect or disturb my sleep like that… anyway, I'll just try to get better rest tonight."

"Well, why don't you just take a nap?"

"Hmm, I might. I usually struggle with falling asleep in the middle of the day when… anyway."

"When what?"

Janus sighed. "When I'm alone. I used to have people near when I was in charge of… the nanny ward and then later with the… well, not really soldiers, but the point is I never slept alone growing up. It doesn't really matter though, I'll just wait until—"

"I'll sleep with you!"

Janus coughed. "What?"

Roman felt his face warm as he shifted awkwardly, but that just made it worse as it just reminded Roman just how much they were touching. "Okay, that sounded… but what I meant was we could… take a nap together?" Oh, dramdach, that didn't sound much better.

"I— yes. That… yes." 

Roman didn't think he'd ever seen Janus so not put together. Maybe his sleep problem had been going on for longer than he'd said.

Roman didn't have any more time to ponder such things, however, as Janus moved his hand from on top of his knees to under, and his other hand to support the rest of Roman as he stood and carried Roman over to Janus' bed.

Janus set the still stunned Roman down. "Well?"

"Uh, well what?" Since when was Janus so strong??

Janus huffed in amusement. "Are you going to scoot over so I can get in as well?"

"Huh, oh! Oh, yeah." Roman moved over as Janus slid in next to him and pulled the blankets over them.

"Here, you can scoot a bit closer. It's pretty chilly today and the bed's rather cold."

Despite the warmth in Roman's face, the bed was indeed cold.

"Okay," Roman murmured as he shuffled closer, choosing to sleep on his side.

Janus was behind Roman as he'd hoped that he'd be less awkward, but Janus must've also been on his side as threw an arm over Roman's waist and buried his nose in Roman's shoulder.

Well, this was certainly different than what Roman had expected when he'd gone to Janus to tell him that he loved Janus. He hadn't even gotten that far before Janus was sharing a bed with him.

Life was weird sometimes.

…

Roman woke up warm so he hummed and snugged even closer to the warmth before frowning. Wait, what was warm?

Roman's eyes flew open and he realised that he was sleeping on… on Janus' chest! He scrambled back and tried to sit up.

"Well, good evening. Where are you going in such a hurry?" Janus asked, lazily watching him from where he was half sitting up against the headboard.

"Oh, I— I was— just… surprised, that's all."

"Fair enough. I'm sure it'd be a bit surprising to wake up next to —or rather on, in this case— someone when you're not used to it."

"But you are? Even now, and even with me?"

Janus considered him for a moment. "Yes."

Roman looked away, not even quite sure why. "Oh."

Janus started at Roman for a moment longer before he broke whatever that was and said, "So, it's about suppertime. How about we go find the whole crew and eat together."

"Yeah, absolutely. That sounds great."

They got out of bed and fixed their bedheads and slightly skewed clothes.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Janus said as he put his hat back on. Roman hadn't even noticed that he'd taken it off. "I had something I wanted to talk to you about earlier."

"Oh?"

Janus' eyes ran over Roman before he looked away. "I— nevermind."

"...Are you sure?"

"Yes. Let's go eat."

…

They all gathered for supper and ate amid chatter and teasing.

"So," Logan began seriously as he set down his fork. "I read about something in the library today and I was wondering if everyone has birthdays or just a select few."

"Oh, everyone does," Janus said. "Some people may choose not to celebrate or may not know what day exactly they were born on —I presume you don't—, but most people celebrate their birthday, or at least know when it is."

A bit of sadness crossed Logan's face. "Ah, I see."

"We could choose a day to be your birthday though," Roman suggested.

"Really? We can do that?"

"Absolutely! We can pick a date and then throw a little party that day to celebrate you."

"What about tomorrow?" Logan asked.

"Well, let's have enough time to at least plan it."

"How about this Saturday?" Janus offered.

Logan considered it for a moment. "...That would be acceptable."

"Good," Janus said before turning to Patton. "And you will, of course, get one as well."

Patton almost dropped his fork in surprise, eyes widening. "What? Really? I get a birthday too?"

"Of course, Patton," Roman assured. "You're no less a part of this family than anyone else."

"Oh."

Roman decided not to dwell on that too much right now. He did, however, make a mental note to himself to be sure that Patton always knew that he was part of the family. "Do you know when your birthday is?"

"...No."

"Well, that's just fine. We can pick a date for or with you sometime after Logan's birthday party, okay?"

"Okay!"

Janus asked Logan, "Would you like to help plan the party, like perhaps after supper, or would you rather it be a surprise and we plan it for you?"

"I'd like to be involved with the planning, please. I'm not very fond of surprises."

"That's understandable," Remus said around a mouth full of food. "One time I tried to throw a surprise party and Roman screamed!"

"In my defense, you jumped out of nowhere with what looked like a mound of some weird red stuff! It looked bloody!"

"Okay, listen, it's not my fault I don't know how to bake!"

Today definitely hadn't gone how Roman had expected but, all in all, it was —albeit weird— still a good day.

-

Today was Logan's new birthday and as excited as Logan seemed to be, he also was at least that much nervous, stressing over every little detail and clearly tense and on edge.

"No, a bit lower… now to the left… not that left, go to the right a bit. That's too high, can you—"

"Logan, I don't think we'll get this exactly right at this rate," Janus said a bit exasperatedly.

"...Oh, right. Apologies, right there is adequate… well, maybe just a bit to the—"

"Logan!"

"Oh, right, right."

"Why don't you use magic to get it just right?" Patton asked.

"... Because we didn't think of that," Janus admitted. 

"That's a really good idea," Roman praised.

Janus let go of his side of the banner and it stayed in place with a bit of gold glittering around it; a sign of his magic. He gestured for Roman to do the same thing and he did, his side also staying with the same golden glitter.

They both climbed down their respective ladders, and Janus made rulers out of his magic on each of the four sides of the banner to get it perfectly centered. Finally it was secured, and Janus went back to blowing up balloons with his magic, some dark blue sparkly confetti in each one.

"I've got the cake!" Virgil exclaimed as he entered the event hall.

"And I've got the ice cream! …Mostly because Virgil doesn't trust me with the cake."

"I saw the flips you were doing with the ice cream bucket!" Virgil and Remus set their loads down on the table.

"Well, obviously I wouldn't've done that with the cake!"

"Well, it's hard to know with you.“

Remus huffed as chaos made a cold bubble around the ice cream so it wouldn't melt, but conceited, "...Okay, that's fair."

Roman walked over to Logan. "Hey, you seem a bit stressed. I know that this is a lot, but it doesn't have to be perfect, okay? We want you to have fun, not be stressed out of your mind."

"Ah, yes. You're right, of course. I just… want this to go well. I'm afraid I've rather so-called 'built' it up in my mind to be this big important thing, so I'm worried about it not going perfectly."

"Oh, I know what you mean. I've definitely done that before. Trying to get every little detail perfect, even when I wasn't sure what getting it perfect would look like. It's called 'perfectionism'."

"Oh, there's a name for that? I didn't realise it was such a common thing."

"Yes, but there's ways to help with it, like letting yourself know that it's okay to make mistakes, or that it doesn't have to be absolutely perfect. It's not going to be perfect but that's okay! I know letting it go is easier said than done, but just know that I'm here for you, Logan."

"Thanks, I appreciate it. I just… I suppose I just want to be good enough. I've been given such a wonderful opportunity here and I don't want anyone to think that I'm squandering it." Logan dropped his voice, "I just don't want you to regret letting Janus take me in."

"Oh, Logan, I don't regret Janus taking you in at all! Short of some very, very bad stuff, I'd never regret that. I'm so glad you're here, and I want you to be here, okay?"

Logan nodded as he seemed to be fighting back tears. "Okay. Thank you."

"Of course. Anytime."

Roman patted Logan's shoulder and they shared a small smile.

…

After Logan was able to relax, things went smoother and Roman was quite sure that he was enjoying everything.

Remus was standing next to Virgil, each had an arm wrapped around the other's waist, and Remus was using his free hand to make a ball of magic that Logan, Patton, and Biscuit were running around, chasing. Occasionally, something would happen —like almost running into each other, or the bundle of magic would jump just out of reach— and Logan and Patton would laugh, Biscuit barking with them.

Roman stood off to the side with Janus, who was watching everyone's antics in amusement.

Roman wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but ever since he'd realised that he liked Janus romantically, there kept being… little things. Roman wasn't even sure what to call them. 

While they hadn't shared a bed again after the nap they'd shared, they still were in close proximity more often than ever. Janus would put an arm around Roman's shoulders as he showed Roman something out of his book, or would press their knees together under the dinner table. Just little things like that, things that Roman still couldn't quite get his head around.

Was it just his feelings for Janus misinterpreting things? Or… well, he didn't even dare to hope.

Janus also seemed to be spending more time with Roman, even if he said something about it being a coincidence that they were in the same room. Roman… wasn't sure if he believed Janus.

Despite all that, Roman couldn't help but worry that he'd missed his chance. Sure, he probably hadn't, but his worry didn't seem to care about that.

What if he never told Janus? He knew he'd regret it if he never told him though, he just hoped that if… —when?— he told Janus, that he wouldn't come to regret that too.

He still felt no closer to knowing how or when to tell Janus, but he supposed that he probably wasn't in that much of a rush. The only people Janus talked to outside of their little family, were all in a professional setting, so Roman doubted that Janus would just suddenly have a partner… hopefully he wouldn't anyway.

Remus yanked the ball higher and Patton jumped, trying to catch it, but it bounced off of the tips of his fingers, and he laughed merrily as he slowly drifted down, having used a slow-fall spell that Janus had taught him recently.

Roman heard a gentle laugh from beside him, so he looked over at Janus, whose smile was softer now, sunlight hitting his face just right, and hair sparkling golden in the light.

And before Roman realised, "You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the honour of meeting," Tumbled out of his mouth.

Janus broke his vision away and looked at Roman in shock. "Wh— what?"

Oops. Well, it was out there now. "Oh, well… I wasn't planning on saying this right now, but I really have been meaning to tell you so… I like you."

"...Like romantically?"

"Yes, like… like romantically."

Janus smirked before he stated matter-a-factly,

"About time." 

"What?"

"I've been flirting with you for a while now! I was starting to wonder if you'd ever like me back."

"Wait, really?"

Janus nodded. "You're an idiot."

Roman laughed abruptly. "Wow, thanks."

"But you're a very lovable idiot."

"Oh, thanks." Roman's face warmed a bit as Janus stepped a bit closer.

Janus gazed into Roman's eyes and he gazed back, the striking contrast of Janus' eyes all but mesmerising. He cupped Janus' face in his hands, running a thumb across his soft cheek before running his other thumb over Janus' scarred cheek, gently tracing a few of the raised lines.

"You're beautiful," Roman said, voice full of wonder.

"I— you're not so bad yourself."

Roman took a little step forward. "Why, thank you." He let his right hand fall a bit until it rested on Janus' shoulder, and Janus reached up with his left hand to grasp at Roman's sleeve. "I really like you," Roman murmured.

"I really like you as well," Janus said back, voice just as soft.

"So, wh—"

"Hey, Roman!" Patton exclaimed before he stopped next to them.

Roman pulled back from Janus to see a sheepish Patton. 

"Oops, sorry. Didn't quite figure out what my intuition was telling me in time."

Roman laughed. "It's alright, what's up?"

Patton held up a light blue balloon that had been folded and twisted into the shape of a dog. "Uncle Remus is making balloon animals!"

"Uncle?"

"Oh, um, well, he and uncle Virgil said it was okay… but I can—"

"No, that's perfectly fine. I was just surprised, that's all."

Patton paused, no doubt seeing if Roman would suddenly change his mind and get mad, but, of course, Roman didn't. "...Okay."

Janus seemed to notice the need for a subject change as he asked, "Do you think he could make me something?"

"Hmm, I think a honey badger would be too complicated, but I bet he could make you a snake!"

"Sounds perfect."

Patton ran off to no doubt ask Remus about the snake.

Janus shook his head fondly. "I'll never understand how children can have so much energy."

"Right! They're so small and yet they just zoom around."

Janus paused before looking back at Roman. "Well, we should probably go see what everyone wants to do next."

"Yeah, that sounds good… can I hold your hand?" Roman blurted out, startling a laugh out of Janus.

"Yes." Janus held his hand out and Roman took it.

Roman wasn't quite sure what this meant for them yet, but it seemed like it would only be for the better.

As they all sang 'happy birthday' to Logan around his birthday cake, Roman couldn't help but wonder at how he'd gotten such an amazing family.

And he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with them.

~The End~

No reposting, likes are nice, and reblogs are very much appreciated! | Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @someoneiwasnt

[bookstantrash]

A/N: I am so very sorry for not updating for so long. I know I said I’d try to update more frequently while I was on uni break but life happened lmao. Classes are back, but I’ll try not left y’all hanging for so long.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake, Hooked on You, Smells like petrichor and paper, The Sound of Music and A Midsummer Night’s Dream, part one, two, three, four and five of my Nessian Pride and Prejudice AU.

That being said, I hope y’all enjoy this chapter! We got a little bit of fluff, sprinkles of angst and a lovely plot twist ✨

Bloody Day and Ominous letters

Nesta woke up with the worst headache she had ever had in her entire life. She really should not have drunk as much as she had last night but as she saw her friends and Morrigan having fun that little voice inside her head — usually her mother’s or grandmother's saying Do better, Stop being such a disappointment or Your only purpose is to marry well so forget about love — got louder and louder, judging her company and trying to make her feel ashamed.

But she had had enough. Her grandmother and mother had both passed away already. It was time to bury them for good. So Nesta took the wine bottle from Morrigan and drank half of it in one go, her friends cheering around her. And she had so much fun. Nesta would never have guessed that drinking could be so enjoyable, nothing like those uptight parties where the ladies sipped a lonely glass all night long while the gentleman lost count of theirs. The only downside was her killing headache and the fact that she had overslept, a fact she took notice of once she glanced at the wall clock.

She had just sat up on her bed —  massaging her temple to ease the tension on her head — when an insistent knocking on her door made her mumble a curse. No doubt it was either Emerie or Gwyn — maybe both of them — waking her up. Those two were quite used to drinking, so it was no surprise to Nesta that they would be up and about very early.

“Would you two stop it?��� she said loudly, opening the door wearing only her chemise, probably having ditched her dress during the night while she slept “I have a killer headache and your banging is not helping at all—”

She stopped mid sentence when she came face to face with Georgianam, the young lady’s hand still raised to knock on her door, Cassian right behind her.

“Oh, I apologise Lady Nesta” Georgiana said “We had agreed that we would go on a nice early morning walk today, but when I did not spot Miss Archeron at the breakfast table I got worried.”

“Please do forgive me, Miss Georgiana. I had a bit too much to drink yesterday and ended up oversleeping.” Nesta quickly said, mentally kicking herself for her rudeness “I will be ready for our walk in a minute.”

“Lovely! I will be waiting at the parlor then!”

Nesta closed the door with a sigh. Her morning had not begun the best.

However, it was only while she was brushing her hair that her sleep fogged mind caught up to the fact that Cassian had seen her half asleep wearing nothing but her chemise and with early morning messy bed hair.

She definitely could not be allowed to drink more than two glasses of alcohol if that was how she was going to behave whenever she drank more than deemed proper.

When she arrived at the parlor ten minutes later, she could not help but avoid looking at Cassian.

“Mrs. Potts brought you a little something to eat” Georgiana informed, pouring Nesta tea “And also some headache medicine”

“Please thank her in my instead later, she is too kind to me”

“Oh, it was all my brother’s doing” Georgiana smiled in Cassian's direction, serving herself some cookies “He was the one who asked her to provide not only the medicine but also the food.”

“I appreciate the gesture, my lord.” Nesta hid her blush behind the teacup.

“It was nothing, my lady” was all he answered, refusing to look at her.

That made Nesta’s heart strangely hurt. She could not help but think he had been disgusted by her earlier appearance. Her hair was such a mess and her chemise was all wrinkled from sleep—

Wait. Why did she care so much of what he thought of her? Nesta Archeron was not one to give much attention to others opinion of herself, so why was she getting so worked up when it came to Cassian? Of course, one could not help but notice how he always looked so presentable, with his spotless clothes, hair combed to perfection every single time. She had never seen a gentleman’s hair be so… perfect. She could bet her first edition of her favourite romance that he had awfully handsome bed hair. And that he had a mint breath even when woke up. And that he probably slept shirtless, if the last time she saw him at midnight at his library was any indication of his sleeping attire.

Oh Mother, why was she now thinking about all of that? She waved an imaginary hand to disperse her not so proper thoughts, focusing on the small talk Georgiana was making.

Both Nesta and Cassian kept avoiding each other during their walk, which did not pass by Georgiana without notice, especially given how her brother had made sure to stay two steps behind them, giving the excuse he wanted to give both ladies “privacy to talk comfortably”, something he had never done. Their walk, however, was cut short when Nesta showed signs of being tired and admitted that her headache had not disappeared.

“I assure you it is nothing to fret over” Nesta told a worried Mrs. Potts when they came back “It must be from yesterday’s drinking. There is no need to call a doctor.”

“Nonetheless, I will ask Chef Ramsay to prepare some light food and my special hangover drink” the old headmaid said with a motherly expression.

Thanking Mrs. Potts again, Nesta went to her room to splash some water on her face in hopes of refreshing herself. But a painful jab low on her stomach made her freeze and the blood drain from her face.

~•~

“Just knock on the door, my Lord” Lumière said as he watched Cassian drop his hand once again. The maître d’ had been watching his lord pace in front of the parlor door for what must have been twenty minutes.

“I do not want to bother her. Maybe I should call Mrs. Potts or wait until the other ladies come back” Cassian ran his hand through his hair in distress. Emerie and Balthazar had gone out with Morrigan to visit some possible new business partners — her big circle of connections proving itself to be very useful in helping expand their business — while Azriel and Gwyn had gone to the town, which was helding a small music festival. Georgiana, on the other hand, had received a telegram from a friend who had returned early from their trip abroad, and she had promptly gone to meet them.

“This, dear brother, is your chance to speak to Miss Nesta” she had said before leaving “I do not know what happened to make you both so distant, but you better make amends. I already asked Emerie to design the gown I shall wear at your wedding.”

Cassian had told Georgie to mind her own business and stop being such a busybody, proceeding to stand guard outside the parlor.

“Leave the lord alone” Cogsworth hissed, elbowing Lumiére “Her ladyship has not asked for help so it must mean she is fine and does not wish to be bothered.”

“Nonsense, old friend!! The lady is simply too shy to ask for it and the lord too polite to risk disturbing her” taking a step forward, Lumière knocked on the door.

“What do you think you are doing?!” the major-domo whisper yelled, and Cassian was sure he would have throttled Lumière were it not for the faint voice coming from the other side.

“Please, do come in” Nesta said.

Taking a deep breath, Cassian opened the door, leaving behind Cogsworth and Lumière, who were trying very hard not to start a duel right there.

The first thing he looked for was Nesta.

Nesta, who was rather pale and was clutching a pillow very hard against her stomach.

“Are you alright?” he asked, not knowing whether to sit beside her or just stay standing a few feet away.

“I am” she said, although the deep breath she took had him thinking it was not true “Where are Gwyn and Emerie?”

“Gwyn went to the town festival with Azriel. An Emerie went with Mor and Balthazar to meet prospective business partners.”

“Are you really alright Nesta?” he asked again “You do not seem fine at all if I may say.”

“I assure you I am perfectly fine” Nesta insisted through clenched teeth “Where is Georgiana?”

“At a friend’s house. They returned early from a trip.” Cassian said, a bit annoyed she was asking for his sister when he was right there. It was a stupid jealous feeling, and he was not even more annoyed because he felt glad they got on so well.

“Do you know when any of them will be back?”

“I am afraid I do not know” daring to approach her, Cassian sat beside her on the sofa “But I am here. If there is anything I could do…”

“There is no need to bother yourself. I truly am—”

And that was when Nesta whimpered and clutched her pillow even tighter, doubling over a little bit.

“You are definitely far from fine sweetheart” Cassian said, rubbing her back in hopes of helping her, nevermind proper etiquette.

“It is really nothing. Just—”

“Just what?”

“Lady stuff!!” Nesta finally said, her whole face heating up like a fireplace.

“Oh. Oh! I see. I— I understand” he said, also a little bit flustered “Not that I actually get it but I have also experienced pain and—”

Nesta wished the ground would open up and swallow her. She was used to getting her period, it was a monthly occurrence. Nothing out of the ordinary. However, this time it seemed her body had decided to punish her more than usual. Not only had she gotten a killer headache — made worse by her hangover —  but she was cramping very badly, and they usually were not that bad. That was why she had gone to that walk with Georgiana, even though she was getting mildly uncomfortable soon after they arrived at the garden.

Not that she did not want to miss any Cassian time.

Him going with them had been a bonus.

A surprise, but not a pleasant one.

Maybe just a bit pleasant if she was being honest. Just a tiny tiny bit.

“I will stop talking now” Cassian mumbled, interrupting not for the first time her errant thoughts.

She wanted to die. To tell Cassian — even indirectly —  that she had gotten her period was the most mortifying she had ever experienced.

“I can get Mrs. Potts for you” he tentatively said, restarting the back rubs “She can get you some tea for pain. Or a bag of warm water. You can tell her anything, do not worry.”

Nesta managed to nod her head in agreement, despite her stubborn side that refused to ask for help from the maids or other servants at Pemberley.

Cassian himself went looking for the head maid instead of just ringing for her, assuring her he would be back in less than ten minutes. And he did come back in record time with Mrs. Potts, who gave her tea and pain tonic that she assured Nesta made wonders for stopping cramps. All the while Cassian hovered over Mrs. Potts, unsure of what to do.

“Do you require anything else? Maybe another blanket?” he asked after Mrs. Potts had left. He had made sure to bring back a blanket too and had even tucked her in with extra care “Or more tea? I can ask someone to come and bring fresh hot tea”

Nesta would never have imagined Cassian to be such an overbearing mother hen. He was being extra careful around her and it annoyed her beyond reason.

“Cassian, this happens every month. Has been happening since I was thirteen, alright? Can you please stop?” she snapped.

She regretted her words as soon as she realised how rude she had been and what exactly she had said. However, he was being so overweening. As if she was made of glass or was on her deathbed.

Yet all Cassian did was crack a smile and nudge a chocolate muffin towards her. Nesta had been in such pain and so quiet he had been concerned if Mrs. Potts’ pain tonic would really work. But there she was.

There was the feisty, sharp tongued and quick-witted Nesta he knew.

There was the Nesta he fell in love with.

He barely held his tongue back and risked blutering his feelings right in front of her. Again.

“May I get you a book then? It is a good way to pass the time until your friends are back.”

“Thank you. That would be lovely” Nesta gave him a soft smile, her previous embarrassment having died down a little.

He was gone and back in a record time, and Nesta delusioned herself into thinking he had raced to the library because he did not want to leave her for too long.

“I got the book you were not able to finish last night” Cassian said, handing her Sellyn Drake’s latest romance “And I also took the liberty of getting one of my favourites too. In case you finish this one quickly.”

She thanked him again, curious as to what book was his favourite, what made her even eager to finish her current read.

Turns out Cassian was a fan of epic poems, a fact that — combined with his admission of having read Sellyn Drake’s romances — once again made Nesta view him with new eyes. She had thought he would be more of a war strategy person, all business and serious matters. Yet it seemed that Cassian had a dreamer inside of him.

“How many times have you read this book?” Nesta asked as she turned a yellowed page. The book was old, but she could see it was very loved given its good condition.

“A lot of times. It was my favourite book as a child, and I could not part with it once I moved out of my childhood home” he gave her a smile “It was also my dear companion during long expeditions. I have most of it memorized.”

“I bet you charmed every single lady during your travels with your knowledge, wooing them with beautiful words” she teased, despite the small pang of jealousy in her heart.

You refused his hand and humiliated him, she thought, you have no place to feel jealous. Cassian is a wonderful gentleman, it is expected to have women falling left and right for him, not to say him pursuing them.

“You are actually the first person apart from my family who knows that I read poetry” Cassian admitted “And I also have never met someone that made me want to declare a poem to”

Nesta did not know what to say to that. They were bordering dangerous territory, something that seemed to happen more and more frequently.

And Cassian, seated right beside her, was thinking the same thing. He had allowed himself to get closer to him again, something that yesterday he had vowed to avoid, had tried to do that morning. But to see her in pain, uncomfortable and not talking to him hurt more than those moments in which he could see a life with her. Those moments with Nesta were a double edged sword: he craved and loathed them with the same urgency.

He would kill to have even a single moment with her.

He would die if he had even a single moment with her.

Nesta made him want to be selfish.

Made him want to declare poems to her, maybe even attempt to write her one.

At the moment, he could not help but recall a certain verse of the Epic of Gilgamesh:

What could I offer

the queen of love in return, who lacks nothing at all?

Balm for the body? The food and drink of the gods?

I have nothing to give to her who lacks nothing at all.

You are the door through which the cold gets in.

You are the fire that goes out. You are the pitch

that sticks to the hands of the one who carries the bucket.

You are the house that falls down. You are the shoe

that pinches the foot of the wearer. The ill-made wall

that buckles when time has gone by. The leaky

water skin soaking the water skin carrier.

To Cassian, Nesta was the goddess of love. And he was the one who could not offer her a single thing for she lacked nothing.

“Well, I will not disturb your reading any longer” clearing his throat to break the new tense silence between them, Cassian gestured to the book in her hand “But do feel free to make comments while you read, I would very much like to hear your opinions about it.”

And she did just that. Every passage she found interesting, each line that caught her eye and interpretation she had about a certain phrase, she shared them all with Cassian. Somewhere during their conversation that awkward tension between them disappeared completely, with Cassian letting his arm rest on the back of the couch, getting closer to Nesta. And Nesta somehow ended up getting closer to him too, almost leaning on his side.

It was all very improper. Cassian staying alone with Nesta, so close to each other and acting as a married couple.

But Cassian would let himself be selfish one last time.

One last time before they had to go their separate ways.

~•~

The day would have ended perfectly were it not for the letter that Gwyn brought once she and Azriel had come back.

While Emerie, Balthazar and Mor had arrived late in the evening — with good news of new partnerships being agreed on —  Gwyn and Azriel had come back much later, just when everyone had finished dinner. Nesta had not been too worried, she trusted Azriel to take care of Gwyn and her friend was not bound by the stifling high society etiquette, but she breathed a little easier when they finally arrived.

“Oh Nesta, we passed by the inn we were staying at before and the landlady gave me a letter addressed to you. It seems she had forgotten to send it to us yesterday when our things were brought here.” Gwyn gave her the letter once they had moved to the game room “She apologised deeply for it.”

“I understand, it is a busy season for them.”

“It is a letter from Feyre” Nesta furrowed her brows in confusion as she broke the letter’ seal, which she recognized as being the one representing Feyre’ status as Duchess “She sent one barely a week ago, I wonder what could have happened.”

Nesta had guessed it would be another letter from Feyre asking about how their trip was going, if she had seen beautiful scenarios and bought any souvenir for her youngest sister. Or even a curious inquiry about what she thought of Cassian. Feyre had been quite interested to know if they got along — she had always been a busybody and matchmaker, and since marrying Rhysand had tried time and time again to nonchalantly push her to Cassin. If she ever discovered that Nesta had already been proposed by Cassian — and that she had refused his hand — chaos would befall upon Nesta.

However, as her eyes scanned the lines, Nesta’s assumptions of its contents proved to be far away from reality. She felt her blood run cold, her heart stop beating and fear. So much fear.

“Excuse me” she managed to say, getting up “I need a moment.”

“Nesta, are you alright? What did Feyre say? You are very pale” Gwyn said, her voice full of worry.

“I am fine. Just cramps” she brushed off her friend’s worries. She did not want to make the others notice that something was off with her, she did not want to alarm Gwyn..

Yet as she exited the room she failed to perceive that Cassian had been paying attention to her ever since Gwyn gave her the letter. He was always paying attention to his surroundings, especially when she was around.

He left the room a few moments after her, trying not to raise suspicion to his attitude. He did not know where she had gone — Pemberley was vast and her room was too far away for him to not have caught her faster — but something led him to the small outdoor patio just left from the small gallery he had at Pemberley.

As he got closer and closer there, he heard the sound of someone crying, which made his heart beat faster and a deep fear grow inside him.

He arrived outside to find an unimaginable scene: Nesta crying. Crying as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest.

She was a mess, her careful braided hair coming undone, as if she had ran her hands through it in desperation.

“Nesta… Nes dear, what happened? Is Feyre alright?” Cassian did not care that she most probably left the room to cry in private. He was worried, he needed to be beside her, he needed to help her somehow.

“I— Feyre she—” she was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, let alone talk, making Cassian’s heart break in a thousand pieces.

“Shh it’s okay sweetheart. I am here Nes” he gently cupped her face, making her look at him “Take deep breaths with me.”

He took a deep breath, holding it in for three seconds before letting it go. He kept doing it until Nesta did the same, slowly calming down.

“Can you talk now? Do you want me to fetch you some water?” Cassian asked, tenderly brushing off her remaining tears.

“No, I— I can talk now” Nesta took another breath “Feyre is alright. It is Elain.”

“Elain? Is she sick? Talk to me Nes, help me understand”

Elain was the picture of the perfect lady in high society. With her numerous suitors, lovely and delicate behaviour — not to mention her singular beauty — it was hard to find someone who did not like her. Given that her hobbies — cooking and gardening — did not pose a threat to her health and well being, Cassian could not understand what would have made Nesta react so strongly. Perhaps Elain had fallen ill, something that rarely happened.

“No. She is not sick” Nesta shook her head “Cauldron, I almost wished she was sick.”

“Elain was…. Elain was kidnapped” she added, her eyes filling with tears again.

“Kidnapped? How?”

That made no sense, who would kidnap Elain? And why?

“She was going to visit Feyre. And when she didn't show up Rhysand went to search for her and—” Nesta started to cry, desperation filling her voice “They found her carriage turned over and hidden near the outskirts of the city. No sign of her at all.”

Cassian was speechless. He could only imagine how Feyre must be feeling after she got the news and hoped Rhysand was doing his everything to help find Elain.

“The coachman was killed and her lady in waiting was rushed to the hospital.” she cried even harder “This is all my fault. I should never have left her. We have no male relatives and Feyre is living too far from our childhood home. I was supposed to take care of her.”

“Nesta, it is not your fault. You could never have guessed something like this could happen.” he looked deep in her eyes, the blue in them even brighter because of her tears “Is there anything I could do to help?”

“I am afraid there isn’t, '' she whispered “I have to go back home. Try to hire an investigator, talk to Feyre and hope Elain is not disgraced by society rumors. Hope she is alive”

Cassian could only nod in agreement and wait for Nesta to recompose herself before they went back inside. Their friends were as horrified and worried about the situation as he and Nesta, and decided to go back right that moment. The staff noticed something was amiss and made sure to ready the carriage in record time.

“Thank you for welcoming you at your home” Nesta said, her complexion a bit better “I can assure you we all had a wonderful time here.”

“It was my pleasure. Have a safe travel and remember that Pemberey is open to you and your friends whenever you want to visit” Cassian helped Nesta get on her carriage one last time, letting go of her hand begrudgingly.

And as Nesta and her friends got farther and farther from Pemberley, as Nesta got farther and farther away from him and took his heart with her, Cassian felt a calm fury settle inside him.

He had some letters to write to some old friends.

•

Tag list: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @d0riansgray @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @valkyriewarriors @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512 @darkshadowqueensrule @letstakethedawn @starlightorstarfire @city-of-fae @thalia-2-rose @nestaarcher0n @rowaelinismyotp @julemmaes @dontgetsalmonella @cardansgreenbriars @lysandra-tiara @inardour @hikari274 @fatimafares123 @angelina-figjam @castielspelvis @lanyjoy-13 @18moneytoad @booksstorm @terrible-and-proud @illyrianundercover​ @ladygabrielli1997 @loosingdreams @live-the-fangirl-life @moodymelanist

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my Fixed Tag list}

Reblogs are always welcomed!!

[atiny-ahgase]

The Promise And A Stray Pup

Title: The Promise And A Stray Pup

Chapter 2: Promise You’ll Be Good

Author’s Note: Okay so I usually write the author’s notes before I even write the story idk why… I just do. Anyway, I had no idea how this is gonna turn out soo..yeah.

Summary: Y/n returns home in search of a hybrid friend that she had left oh so long ago. Will she be able to help him? Did their friendship withstand the hands of time or did it crumble from the pressure? 

This is chapter 2 of the Series “A Pinky Promise And A Stray Pup, you can read chapter 1 here.

----------------------------

Pairing: Hybrid Yunho x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Hybrid au, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Smut, Dom Reader, Sub Yunho, Edging, Controlled Orgasm, Masturbation

Contains: Hybrid Yunho, Gender Neutral Reader, Fluff, Smut

---------------------------

You paced through the narrow hallway of your one-bedroom apartment for what seemed like the millionth time. Releasing a loud groan you dove unto the soft cushions of your couch, burying your face in one of your many throw pillows. It had been exactly 2 days,14 hours, and 27 minutes since you had last seen Yunho...not that you were counting or anything. He seemed kinda off during your last interaction, his breathing seemed strained and his cheeks were a bright shade of pink, granted his face seemed to be tinted that light shade of pink quite often. His voice wasn’t the smooth sweet melody that you had already become so used to, it seemed deeper, almost huskier. Sure, he had just woken up but still, something felt off to you. Maybe you were overthinking it, over-analyzing the situation as you usually did but how could you not? He hadn’t contacted you for two whole days. Sure, he could be busy with work but when you visited his workplace they said that he hadn’t been in on that day. Then where was he? What could he possibly be doing?

What if he was sick? What if he had realized that you weren’t the same kindergartener that he had met so many years ago? What if he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore? What would you do then? Everything that you had done since the moment you and Yunho had parted ways was all done to meet him again. You studied extra hard to get a scholarship, you worked extra shifts to pay off apartment expenses, you settled on choosing this apartment because it was closer to your old school. Everything that you had done was all for him but...what if he didn’t want that? What if he was having second thoughts? Where would that leave you? What would you do when your entire reason for bettering yourself decided that you weren’t enough?

He said that he’d come to visit you again but it's been two days and still nothing, you were starting to worry. Sure you hadn’t seen him for twelve years prior but now even a day without him feels unbearable. You’d wondered how you had survived so long without having him by your side. Even your tiny apartment felt as though it had tripled in size since his absence, the walls seemed to have expanded overnight, feeling far too large for just you. Yunho seemed to fit so perfectly in your life so the fact that he wasn’t there next to you felt like such a foreign feeling even though he had only recently reentered it.

Your worrying carried on for the remainder of the week and before you knew it classes had begun. The first couple of days were pretty basic; mostly consisting of introductions and lesson plans. You had even somehow managed to befriend the bespeckled hybrid boy who sat next to you in your Math class. His hair was dyed a soft orange which highlighted the warmth of his smile, he wore an oversized hoodie and round-rimmed glasses. Even seated he towered over you, and to be quite honest you were originally incredibly intimidated by his large stature but that lasted a solid two minutes. His dog-like playfulness immediately shining through, casting away all of your prior fears. You had both managed to get pretty close before your class had started, him laughing at all of your jokes, his tail happily wagging behind you as he clutched his stomach, tears springing from his eyes.

He introduced himself as Mingi, a dog hybrid who only moved in a few months ago, apparently he wanted a fresh place to make a new start and opted for somewhere quiet. Surprisingly you both shared a lot of the same courses which was great for you because now you had a seat buddy. The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly and it was finally time for lunch, you and Mingi sat on the wooden benches across from the school library, taking in the way the yellow leaves danced in the wind as the breeze sang a gentle song. Your shoulders brushed each others’ as you listened to his stories about his hometown, your attention hanging on to every single word that he spoke. His way of telling stories captivated you, it was as though you were watching a movie, every scene that he set was so vivid, it was as though you were living through each moment. Before long your school day had ended and it was finally time to go home. Walking out from your final lecture for the day you looked up at the sky “, Looks like it’s about to rain,” you hypothesized.

“Please don’t jinx it, the UNI’s Shuttle doesn’t drop me off at the front of my house and I really don’t wanna walk through the rain,” he explained with an exasperated sigh. Soon after his words were uttered a thunderous roar was heard from the sky and raindrops began falling unto the earth below. You could hear the displeased groans from your friend beside you which caused you to let out a small laugh. “Alright Mingi tell me where you live and I’ll think about giving you a ride”, you jokingly said while pulling him in the direction of your car. “You’re the best Y/n,” he said before engulfing you into a hug from behind. “Mingi you’re gonna crush me then I’lldie before I drive you home,” you exclaimed while trying to control your laughter. Were all dog hybrids this affectionate?

Mingi lived fairly close to the supermarket where Yunho worked which was great for you since you found yet another excuse to ‘drop in’ after you had dropped Mingi off. Unfortunately, Yunho wasn’t there yet again and quite honestly it was starting to get on your nerves. You released a loud sigh before heading to your car and driving home. It was only upon arriving home did you notice Mingi’s jacket seated comfortably on your back seat. You playfully rolled your eyes before retrieving it and bringing it into your apartment. Pulling out your phone you sent him a quick text informing him that you were holding his jacket for ransom and if he doesn’t buy you breakfast tomorrow then he’ll never see it again. You know just a basic text. After that was done you decided that your couch was as good a place as any for Mingi’s jacket to rest for the night.

Not long after getting comfortable, you heard someone knocking at your door. “Who could that be?” you thought. You didn’t know that many people from around here and even if you did they didn’t know where you lived. Getting up from your couch you walked over to the door pulling it open to reveal who was on the other side.

“And here I thought that you forgot where I lived,” you remarked as you looked up at the dog hybrid towering above you. Of course, it was Yunho, the only other person in town that knew where you lived was your landlady, and something was telling you that she had little to no reason to come knocking on your door at this hour. “I’m really sorry Y/n,” you heard him say softly, if it had been any quieter you would not have heard him at all. Looking at his face it seemed a lot paler than you remembered and he wore a tired expression as though he hadn’t slept for days.

“I wanted to come to see you sooner but I was really sick and I wanted to call but I didn’t have your number,” he began to explain in a voice that was even gentler than what you were used to. Even the yellow of his eyes seemed to dull significantly, how could you stay mad at someone in that state. To be honest, he could have shown up at your doorstep in peak condition and no excuse, and you’d probably still forgive him. For the longest time whether you were together or apart you had the softest spot for Yunho, even with the greatest determination once you looked into those golden eyes your heart would surely falter.

“You should probably come in, it’s getting pretty chilly these days,” you smiled up at him before further opening the door allowing him inside. Closing the door you sat on the couch and patted the spot beside you expectantly. Yunho taking that as his cue quickly filled in the empty space next to you engulfing your body in his warmth. You had quickly become used to having him next to you so much that his absence for those few days had you feeling incredibly cold. “I really am sorry Y/n, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he explained as he placed his head on your shoulder nuzzling into your neck.

Placing your hand at the nape of his neck you were about to comfort him about the situation; since he seemed to be beating himself up quite a bit. However, before you could otter a word you could feel his grip on you tightening slightly.

“Y/n” you heard him say no louder than a whisper, his voice deeper than you were used to, “Whose jacket is this?” Referring to the green jacket which was placed on the couch.

“Oh, that’s Mingi’s he forgot it in my car-,” you began but before you could finish you felt a sharp pain at your collar bone followed by the soothing sensation of his warm tongue gliding over your bruised skin. You could feel it caressing your skin so tenderly that goosebumps began to form all over your body. “Yunho,” you whimpered in his arms while struggling to escape his grasp.

“I don’t like it. Why are you spending time with other hybrids when you already have me?” he calmly stated, punctuating each word with gentle kisses running along your throat. “I’ve only just found you, I’m not letting another hybrid take you away from me. You’re mine and I’m yours” he continued on while tightening his grip on you even more. His body pressed firmly to yours as he continued to nip on the tender skin of your neck. 

The area began to burn with the most pleasant of pains, your body aching in the best way imaginable. But you knew that you couldn’t stay like that otherwise he would just continue to misunderstand you. “Yunho could you just listen-,” you tried to reason with him as best as you could even though you could hear your voice falter as his lips reached your collarbone. This was the second time he had done this and as pleasurable as it is also beginning to get tiring.

You kept on telling yourself that this was bad no matter how good he made you feel. You couldn’t deny that you could easily become addicted to the sensation of his body on yours; completely trapping you in its warmth. But you couldn’t just let him do as he pleased. It’s true that hybrids have a more difficult time controlling their emotions but this is not an excuse. He couldn’t just continue to act on impulse every time his emotions get too strong. It gets easier with time and a hybrid of Yunho’s age should already be adequately good at it.

But I guess that’s the difference between Yunho and other hybrids his age, they were probably trained better than Yunho. He lived his younger years on the street so there is a possibility that he still hasn’t perfected self-control. He was like a puppy in an adult dog’s body; succumbing to every urge that comes his way. Gathering your thoughts you took a deep breath before speaking. “Yunho sit,” you said in a stern voice, much more than you ever thought you could muster up. You felt his body become rigid against yours but he made no actions to remove himself from you. “Yunho sit!” you said with a little more force; your eyes piercing into his. You heard him whimper before he peeled himself away from you to have a seat. You had expected him to return to his previous spot beside you but he didn’t. Yunho opted to sit on his heels at the base of the couch; right where your feet had lain. His head hung low as his palms gently rested on his knees.

Seeing the sight before you left you struggling to remain seated, he looked so ductile, so obedient and something about it made you feel so hot. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes and you loved it, although you had been the one to stop his previous advances it was almost as though you were at the mercies of your instinct, you wanted nothing more than to completely devour him. You took a deep breath in the futile attempt to gather your thoughts before speaking to him, he’d probably let you.

“Yunho I let your behavior slide twice before, but at this point, I’m beginning to think that you want to be scolded by me,” you stated while coking your eyebrow up. “No I don’t I’m sorry,” you heard him mumble towards the floor. Placing your hand on his cheek you felt the way his body shivered at your touch. “Puppy shouldn’t you look at me when I’m talking to you,” you whispered your face only a few inches from his. You could clearly see his lips quivering as you took in the strained features of his face.

“You’re right I’m sorry,” he whimpered, his fists clenched against his jeans. “And exactly what is my puppy sorry for?” you inquired, your lip twisted up in a slight smirk. It amused you; someone so much smaller than him, could have so much power over him, just the thought had you shivering in your seat.

“I’m sorry for attacking you and for not coming to see you,” he stated, his pleading eyes drowning in your own. “And what was the reason that my dear puppy couldn’t come see his owner?” you continued on loving the pure look of ecstasy on his face when you referred to yourself as his owner. His knuckles tightened as his body began to tremble, clearly holding itself back from the pleasure that was clearly bubbling inside of him. “I was sick,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Oh were you now?” you edged on, your pointer finger gliding across his adam’s apple. “Please,” he whimpered before he began to hunch forward in an attempt to ease the pressure building up at his crotch. “You say that you’re sorry but apparently that doesn’t apply to all of you,” you confessed before gently placing your foot on his crutch. The sound that he released was probably the most beautiful you’ve ever heard; it almost made you want to end your teasing, almost.

Removing your foot from his crutch you stare in awe at the thin thread of clear liquid which connected your toes to the ever-growing bulge in his pants. “For someone who is soo sorry you seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit,” you stated as you wiggled your toes, almost playing in the precum coating them. From your seat above him, you could see him frantically shaking his head as he rocked in place on the floor beneath you. “Oh, so you’re not,” you inquired as you brought your face on the same level before you continued, “then maybe you should start answering me honestly? There is no need to be this stubborn with me”.

“I was in heat,” he replied; his head hung low as his ears began to redden. “So my puppy left me worried and alone cause you couldn’t keep it in his pants? Seeing the state that you’re in I can’t say that I’m surprised,” you replied, your eyes never once leaving his quivering body. Leaning back into your seat you took one final glance at him before speaking, “Take it off.” You could hear him release a sigh before reaching for his shirt. “No,” you interrupted him mid-action, “just your bottoms.” With crosswinds coming in so quickly Yunho was dressed in a caramel-colored knitted turtleneck and a pair of black jeans. You didn’t think that turtle necks could turn you on to this extent, just the thought of Yunho wearing turtle necks to hide the marks that you’ve left on his neck got a fire burning deep into your core.

You were so lost in your thoughts that the only thing pulling you away was the load, animalistic groan which escaped the hybrid’s lips as he slowly touched himself. His nimble fingers teasing the tip of his erect cock, urging it to release even more precum than it already was. The clear liquid flowed from the tip of his reddened cock down his hand, coating it in the perverse liquid. “I don’t remember telling you that you could touch yourself now did I puppy,” you stated watching as he briskly removed his hand from his aching cock; wincing as the cold breeze caressed it. “Do you want me to touch you?” you inquired. 

“I do,” he began; his breathing short and strained, “but I’ve been bad.” 

“That’s true but that doesn’t mean that my puppy doesn’t deserve to be cared for now does it?” you rhetorically asked.

Finally leaving your place on the couch you crept beside him, grasping his dick in your much smaller hand, your mouth watering at the sight.  Almost immediately you could feel Yunho bucking his hips upward, chasing his much-desired release with great intensity. Taking your free hand you gripped his hip harshly, your nails grazing along his side. Yunho moaned at the pain, his body shivering as his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. “Stay still for me okay baby,” you whispered, your breath tickling his ear. Continuing at a rather snow pace you ran your hand along Yunho’s engorged dick, tracing its veins with your fingers and watching as his entire body twitched in response. You could feel him leaving tentative kisses along your shoulder but you didn’t stop him this time, he was finally being good so he deserved a little treat. Right?

You tightened your grip as you continued to pleasure him, enjoying the sweet sounds of his moans in your ear; you could listen to it all day but that might actually break him and you couldn’t do that to your puppy. “Close, I’m close. Please can I come,” he begged into your shoulder as his hands caressed your sides ever so slightly; the searing heat radiating from his entire body paled in comparison the that of his pulsating dick. He looked as though he was ready to burst but resisting until you gave him the go-ahead trying with the utmost desperation to be good for you. Should you allow him to release or should you let that pressure build up inside of him just a little longer to see how long he could fight against his instinct? 

Your thought process was interrupted by your phone ringing on the couch cushion behind you, you weren’t all that interested to answer but you had an idea of who it might be so you decided to play with your puppy just a little longer. “Yunho could you grab my phone for me please,” you asked, your free hand caressing his back to get his attention. Looking at his face caused shivers to run through your spine; it was nothing like you’ve ever felt before, your body was screaming with pure ecstasy. His face was flushed pink and glistening with perspiration, his teary, yellow eyes were almost engulfed by his dilated pupils and only heavy breathing could be heard from his swollen lips. Yunho was always irresistible in your eyes but seeing him in this state; he looked absolutely delectable.

You had expected him to put up some sort of resistance but he didn’t, he simply stretched forward; groaning at the new angle in which you were holding his dick, and grabbed your phone. “Who’s calling?” you inquired, already having a decent idea of who it is. From the growl that escaped Yunho’s lips, you already knew that you were right but you still wanted to hear him say it. You didn’t say a word to him you simply stopped the movement of your hand and looked at him, your eyes boring into his in an attempt to deduce his next move. Was he really that against you talking to Mingi? Or was it just because of the timing of the call? “Mingi,” he whispered before handing me the phone. Taking it from his hand you could see Yunho attempt to fix his clothes. “Stay,” you simply said to him before answering the still ringing phone.

To be quite honest you weren’t really paying any mind to what Mingi was saying; your senses focused on the whimpering hybrid beside you. You had already begun caressing his dick once more while still being on the phone with Mingi, you didn’t mind too much if Mingi found out what you were doing but Yunho on the other hand tried his absolute best to keep his noises at bay. This continued on for a few more minutes as you tried your best to keep Mingi on the phone, testing how long Yunho could hold out. Quickening your pace on his ever-flowing dick you could see Yunho convolve as he clung unto you, his teeth threatening to tear through his lush lips. He was almost at his breaking point.

“Mingi could you just hold on please my friend is calling the apartment phone,” you lied, “oh no you don’t need to hang up it will only take a minute.” Placing your phone against your shoulder; but not really attempting to muffle any sound, you turned to Yunho, “Are you coming today or not?” you enquired in the best nonchalant voice you could muster up. To Mingi it would just seem as though you had a friend over but Yunho knew better, his needy pants and muffled whimpers understood all too well. Looking up at you he nodded his head frantically before burying his face into your shoulder once more in a desperate attempt to muffle his sounds. He couldn’t hold it in any longer, if he was asked to his entire body would have surely combusted right there and then.

“Okay then hurry up,” you replied before returning to your phone call. “Yeah I’m gonna watch a movie with a friend in a bit, you should come next-,” you continued your conversation until you felt a sharp pain on your neck causing you to yelp, followed by a splash of liquid landing on your hand. “Are you okay?” you heard Mingi ask. “Yeah I’m fine I just bumped my toe,” you explained with a slight laugh trying your best to calm your breathing. “Well that’s good then,” he continued, “but please be careful else you’ll make me worry.”

“You don’t need to though, I already have someone like that and he’ll be here soon so I should go,” you stated before saying your goodbyes. You could sense a slight opposition from Mingi on the phone but that didn’t bother you much cause you had someone else to worry about. You look one last look at the quivering hybrid who had collapsed on your living room floor before you stood up.

Rushing to the restroom you began filling the bathtub before retrieving a damp cloth and heading back to the exhausted hybrid in your living room. After cleaning up most of the mess you told Yunho that he needed to take a bath which resulted in him releasing a groan before attempting to get up. Standing beside him you watched as his legs shook releasing a small giggle at the sight. “Shut up,” he said with a slight pout on his lips. “I really did a number on you didn’t I,” you continued.

“Please stop talking,” he groaned as he slowly made his way to your restroom. “Are you going to make me?” you pushed on loving the personality gap that he was displaying. You loved how he went from a whimpering mess to the playful yet slightly defiant Yunho that he currently is. You felt his grip on your arm, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were connected. “Do you want me to?” he inquired, his golden eyes searching yours. “Huh?” was the only thing that could leave your mouth, unbelievable, even after all that you’ve just done to him he can still reduce you to a deer in the headlights that simplicity? “I’m yours,” he whispered just softly enough for you both to hear; like it was a precious secret only to be shared between you too, “I’d do anything you want me to. Whatever you want from me I’ll give it to you.”

[labyrinth-runner]

Hauntober Day 27: Ghost

Summary: When Padmé ends up meeting a ghost in her new palace, she’ll do whatever she can to help him find peace.

Characters: Padmé Amidala, Obi-Wan Kenobi 

Warnings: Not really a warning. Just an explanation. Young!Obidala AU where Padmé’s age is more like what it was in the concept of TPM, which was a “young adult” according to some various sources.

Word Count:~1800

“Sleep well, my lady,” her handmaiden told her before leaving her in peace. The bed in the lake house was quite large and comfortable, but she had no intention of sleeping. Once the door was closed and she had counted to thirty, she slipped out of bed before slipping on her robe and a pair of slippers. It was an old palace. It was bound to have secret passages. With a grin on her face, she started to tug on every wall sconce she could. Those always opened the secret hatches in the holos. After a successful tug, the wall opened up into a dark hall. Carefully, she took a candle from her dresser, lit it, and continued down the hall. 

Soon, she found herself in a maze of tunnels that spread out in all directions. Saying an old children’s rhyme, she chose a hall to continue down, following its twists and turns into a larger chamber lined with bookshelves. In the middle sat a desk. 

“A secret library!” she said in awe. She browsed the titles on the shelves, finding they were all unfamiliar. Then, she went to head back the way she thought she had come.

She walked further and further to no avail. 

“Great, Padmé,” she sighed to herself. “You’re a queen lost in her own palace.”

“Hello there,” a voice said. 

She jumped, turning to find a blue see-through man. Her eyes widened as she slowly backed away.

“Are you lost?” the man asked, stepping towards her.

“You’re a- you’re a-” she stammered.

He looked down and sighed, almost embarrassed. “Force Ghost.” He held up his hands placatingly, “But I’m not here to hurt you. I wanted to help you find your way back.”

Padmé took a deep breath. Friendly force ghost. Got it. “Alright, I suppose I’ll follow you.”

He offered her his hand. She went to take it, her own passing through it as a shiver went down her spine.

The ghost looked like he was blushing. “Sorry, darling. I forgot. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone down here.”

He started to lead her back.

“What’s your name?” she asked after a few moments of silence.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” he grinned.

“If you don’t mind my asking... how did you.... you know,” she murmured.

“Die?” he asked softly. When she nodded, he went on, “That’s the problem, truly. I don’t remember. For some reason, I don’t even think I really am dead.”

“Why’s that?” she asked out of curiosity.

“I hear a beating. Like a heart. It’s faint, and it’s slow, but it is steady and it is there,” he explained.

“If you’re not dead, then how can you be here?” she asked.

He thought about if for a moment. “Astral projection, I presume.”

“Only Jedi can-” she trailed off as if noticing his clothes for the first time. “Oh.”

“Enough about me,” he grinned, “Tell me about you.”

“There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid,” she blushed. “My name is Padmé, but everyone around here knows me as Queen Amidala. I was recently elected Queen of Naboo.”

“That’s impressive,” he said. “Certainly more to tell than you think.” He gave her a slight bow, “I am humbled to be in the presence of a monarch.”

“You flatter me,” she chuckled as they got back to her door. It was closed.

“Well, that won’t do. Wait here,” Obi-Wan instructed before passing through the wall. He moved the sconce on the other side, opening the door. “Home, sweet home.”

“Thank you,” she grinned.

“You’re welcome, your highness. I hope I get to show you more of what the palace has to offer,” he murmured, giving her a lopsided grin. He held his hand out to her, and she tried her best to place her hand in it. He leaned forward to kiss her knuckles. She bit her lip. Did she have a crush on a ghost?

“Good night, Obi-Wan,” she murmured as he started to back away towards the wall.

“Good night, Padmé,” he winked before leaving.

Padmé flopped back on her bed and blew her hair out of her face. She was smitten. She also had a new secret mission: To learn as much about the Jedi as possible. If it was true that he was still alive, she’d do everything in her power to help him. With that thought in mind, she went to bed, determined to get answers from the palace’s caretaker in the morning.

She woke before her handmaidens and slipped into the gardens to find the caretaker looking after some roses.

“Your highness,” he said, “You’re up early. Is there something I could do for you?”

“Actually, yes,” she replied. Then, she lowered her voice, “But this stays between us.”

“Of course, you highness.”

“I saw a man last night while I was exploring the tunnels.”

“There shouldn’t have been anyone down there. The tunnels have been deserted for years. Only I and the Captain of the Guard know about their existence in case of emergency,” the caretaker said.

“I know. He wasn’t... he wasn’t alive. At least, not in the sense that we are. My hand went through him. When I was lost, he led me back to my room,” she murmured.

“You saw him,” he said in awe.

“Saw who?” she asked, playing dumb in hopes of getting more answers.

“The Ghost of the Jedi,” he replied. “You’ve never heard the Legend?”

“Legend? What Legend?” Now she truly didn’t know what was going on.

“The Legend of the True Knight,” he replied, “According to the Legend, a Jedi Knight battled a fearsome foe long ago. The foe won, but instead of killing him, his magic was too weak for that, it put the Jedi into a sleep. Neither dead, nor truly alive, the Jedi Knight was in limbo. The Knight’s Master, unable to truly get rid of the body, placed it in a glass coffin and hid it away until the day that he could be set free. Whoever sets him free is to be his ruler for the rest of his life, and he their knight.”

Padmé listened intently, “Has the knight appeared before anyone else?”

“No,” he replied.

“Then how do you know the story is true?” she asked softly.

“Aside from the look in your eyes... I’ve seen the coffin. I was a young man at the time, exploring the tunnels so that I would know which ones were important. I happened upon the crystal coffin in one of the halls. Inside was a Jedi Knight,” the caretaker told her.

“And you didn’t help him?”

“I couldn’t. I’m not meant to be the one that breaks the curse. I couldn’t even open the casket.”

“Do you remember where the room is?” she asked desperately.

“I’m sorry, your highness. It’s been so long,” the caretaker replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I have more to do in the garden.

Padmé nodded, dismissing him. She walked back to her room, lost in thought. If she was the only one he had ever appeared before... did that mean that she was to break the curse?

That night, she resolved to tell him of her plan, meeting him in the library again..

“So, you think that if you can find my coffin, then you can break this curse?” he asked thoughtfully.

“I do. Could you take me to your coffin?” she asked.

He blushed and looked down. “Well, darling, I’m afraid I don’t know where it is.”

“Well, I have two years to find it, but I’d like to find it sooner rather than later,” she said. “Come on.”

Every night for weeks, they searched the passages, trying to find his coffin. All the while, they were learning more about each other. They swapped childhood stories, hopes and dreams, and a great friendship started to blossom.

Eventually, they found the coffin. The two of them shared a look of excitement as she raced to the side of the crystal casket. Reverently, she ran her hand along it before pushing it open.

“Well, now what?” he asked.

“I... I don’t know,” she admitted. 

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright. Even if you don’t break the curse, I have had a wonderful time just being with you.”

“But, Obi-Wan, I can break the curse. I don’t know how, but I can feel that this is what I’m meant to do,” she said adamantly. She studied his body closely, noting that he wasn’t breathing. “Perhaps if I breath air into you?” 

He shrugged, “It’s worth a shot.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” she asked nervously.

“Oh, but darling, what if it does?” He rested her forehead against hers. “To be your Knight, will be the greatest honor.”

She swallowed, leaning over the casket. Her thumb settled into the cleft of his chin, gently tugging his lips open. Padmé took a deep breath before pressing her lips to his to create a seal. She breathed into him, watching his lungs expand. Then, she pulled back. 

“How will I know if it-?” she trailed off when she noticed the force ghost was no longer with her. 

“Obi-Wan?” No answer. “Obi-Wan!” She sat next to the casket, a silent tear slipping down her cheek. 

“No need to yell,” a voice came from behind her. “I may have been out for force knows how long, but I can assure you that my hearing is perfectly fine.”

Padmé stiffened, turning her head to see the young man in the casket sitting up and giving her the biggest grin.

“It worked,” she murmured in awe.

“I knew you could do it,” he grinned, getting out and offering her his hand to help her up.

Slowly, she placed her hand in his, grinning when skin met skin and a warmth enveloped her hand. In seconds, she was in his arms, hugging him close.

He hugged her back tightly, kissing her forehead. When he pulled back, he smoothed her hair out of her face before cupping her cheek. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Probably for as long as I wanted to do this,” she said softly before tipping up on her toes to kiss him. Her arms encircled his neck as he held her flush against him, returning her kiss with feeling. When they pulled back for air, they were both blushing.

“So you are to be my knight, then?” she asked softly.

“It would be the greatest honor to serve my Queen,” he grinned.

[fireopal-tash]

Pearl and Garnet finally talk with the Diamonds. It doesn't go as expected...

This happens at the same time as the previous chapter. At last there will be answers... Right?

Also, this is my AU, so some things will be different: Homeworld free form; Gem's history free form

(read chapter 6 first!)

CHAPTER 7 - ETERNAL DESTINY

That same morning, while Steven was still sleeping with Spinel and Amethyst was in her own room, the fusion and the pearl decided to visit Homeworld again. More than anything, it was to finally speak with the Diamond Authority, and thus contrast the information they obtained from the last time. Their first visit was interesting but not enough for them. Helping Steven, that was their priority. And the only way to achieve it is by talking to the same gems they were so afraid of -no matter how much they deny it-.

Today the palace seemed to be busier. Looking around, you could see gems of all colors and of all shapes walking from one place to another, some talking, others in silence, but all animated. Pearl, uncomfortable and not used to such a large and varied group in this place, moved closer to Garnet and hugged her arm.

"Pearl, calm down. No one is going to attack us."

"Easy for you to say. You can see what's going to happen with your future vision, but all I see is chaos and a mess. Years ago this would have been more than enough to piss off the Diamonds" she hissed, and then she shook her head "It still amazes me how much everything has changed..."

"All thanks to Steven" Garnet smiled softly, feeling pride wash over her. That made Pearl smile too. Her son had grown a lot, and she couldn't be happier for him. Then she sighed.

"But that thing about Gem Mates is something unexpected. I'm afraid how it might affect Steven. Spinel too" the pale gem paused, watching some amethysts shout happily among themselves, drawing the attention of other gems "Do you think she has anything to do with all this?"

"I don't know. I... I can't see much since Steven came back. Things have changed, and I can't even know what's going to happen anymore" explained the fusion. She was worried, but she also knew that they couldn't depend on her future vision. They had to trust Steven and whatever decisions he'll make from now on.

"I think we've arrived..." Pearl announced. Her hands on the fusion's arm dropped and she approached the white doors of White Diamond's room. At least some things don't changed. Pearl knocked on the door, deciding that this was better than entering without announcing their presence.

"Come in" came the voice, the doors opening and giving way to White's chamber. Said Diamond was in a yoga pose of sorts, somewhat tense. The giant opened her eyes, without changing her position. "Ah, the crystal gems. What about Steven and the amethyst?"

"They're at home," said Pearl with irritation. Garnet touch Pearl's shoulder, then took a few steps closer to the large diamond.

"We came here to talk about him, actually. We've been... investigating, and we suspect that Steven is infected by Gem Mates." Hearing those words, the doors to that room slammed shut, blocking the only exit there was and surprising the other two gems. Meanwhile, White was looking at them with a seriousness not very common in her.

"Where did you hear that term? And what makes you think Steven might have it?"

"In The Great Library on Gems and Their History," Pearl explained with some reluctance. Then she looked at her with a hard and firm gaze "We know about Tourmaline, Tanzanite and Moissanite. We know what happened to them."

"You" she stopped suddenly. White turned around, her shoulders shaking slightly. Then she spoke, without turning around, in a solemn voice "Steven is not affected by anything. Gem Mates is not a vulgar disease or a virus. It is... a part of the history of the gems that was lost after what happened with Tourmaline, Tanzanite and Moissanite. They weren't... They weren't to blame. I should have stopped this from appearing long before. I never thought..." this time she turned around, looking directly at Pearl and Garnet "Did you say Steven could have a Gem Mate?"

"He's... he's been feeling strange."

"As if he could feel someone else's emotions inside him, correct?" she lowered her gaze, almost sadly "Sounds right"

"What else can you tell us about that? How can we help Steven?" Garnet finally asked.

"Nothing" was White's decisive answer. "You cannot help him because nothing can be done. He will have to live with it. And above all, in no case let anything happen to his other half"

"His other half? And what will happen to him if something happens to his other half?" Pearl asked, dreading the answer. She was sure she read about it before...

"Little by little, very slowly, he will cease to exist. He will disintegrate until there is only an empty shell of who he was before, although who knows, since he is half organic" the diamond replied with an absent look. Her white pupils fixed on the crystal gems, still lost "You already have your answer. You can go now" The great doors opened, and as if something were moving them. Pearl and Garnet left, dumbfounded.

~

"Blue Diamond?"

"Oh, Steven's friends. Welcome" the blue gem invited them, finding herself alone at that moment, and surrounded by what appear to be many empty bubbles "Excuse the mess. I was... cleaning" With that said, she turned her attention to Pearl and Garnet, curious "Why have you come? I know you don't like Homeworld, and you don't like us" she was referring to all the diamonds "Is everything okay with Steven?"

"Steven is fine. But we wanted to know what can you tell us about the GemMates." And just like the other time, Blue acted affected upon hearing those words, turning away from them with an expression of anguish.

"How...?"

"Steven. We have been investigating, and we believe that Steven has a GemMate" announced Pearl, feeling some panic inside her when she saw another diamond react negatively. All the things she's read about this topic couldn't possibly be the reason, right? It seemed as if it was affecting them more than it should. Or maybe I'm being insensitive, Pearl thought with some pity.

"Out" Blue ordered, not wanting to talk about it. It has to been a joke, right? Steven couldn't...

"Running from the truth is not going to make it all go away" was the last thing Garnet said before they both left, leaving Blue alone, still affected by their words. Specifically the last sentence because she knew more than anyone that she could not run. Not forever anyway.

~

"My Diamond, Pink Diamond's Pearl and the Fusion" announced Yellow Pearl, leaving shortly after, knowing that this must be something personal and too important for two of the members of the Crystal Gems to be there.

"Steven is not here" was not a question "What do you want?" she folded her arms, beside her a screen with indecipherable writing.

"We wanted to talk about the GemMates" Pearl began.

"Out" she did not give them time to say more than that.

"Excuse me!?" exclaimed the pale gem in frustration "This is enough. Obviously you know something about this and you don't want to tell us. We have talked to White and Blue first. Why do you react like this?"

"A pearl like you... of course you don't know anything"

"We know about Tourmaline, Tanzanite and Moissanite," she countered.

"Like I said, you know nothing"

"Then tell us what you know in order for us to understand" Garnet asked quietly. Perhaps they would have better luck with Yellow if they were more patient and rational.

"If I tell you, will you go away?" They both looked at each other, then looked at Yellow and nodded in unison. The yellow diamond snorted, but sat down in her seat and began to narrate. "This started shortly after our creation"

"Our... You mean, all the Diamonds?"

"Not exactly, and don't interrupt me again or I'm not going to tell you anything more" that closed Pearl's mouth, who was going to ask something else. "As I was saying. When we were created we knew everything we had to do. Create more gems, colonize, collect and store all the information we obtain. And that we did. We followed the protocol. We created guardians to protect us, workers to build what you see around you and intellectuals so that they could archive everything that happened and what we learned. Then we created even more types of gems, until we couldn't find anymore jobs for more gems of different types. We just needed more soldiers to facilitate the process of colonization and expand our empire"

Pearl made as if to interrupt, but Garnet stopped her with a simple glance. Yellow continued as if nothing happened.

"During that time, we realized that there were gems that had a special connection with some of their... partners. And although at first we thought it would be a mere distraction and an easy weakness to exploit, we noticed that these gems obtained certain advantages. At least, that was the case until that the misfortune of The Fall"

The Fall? Pearl thought with some disbelief when she heard that title, knowing what she meant by that.

"Tourmaline, Tanzanite and Moissanite. The last two were created with the mark of destiny" her gaze became wishful "Tourmaline was not happy about the close proximity between Tanzanite and Moissanite. She shattered Tanzanite -Fusions were allowed back then- the diamond explained in between, as if saying, see? That was the reason Tourmaline really attacked "Moissanite wanted to shatter her old friend as retaliation. Everyone knew what happens when you lose your gem mate. Something similar happened with the first gems created with the mark of destiny. But that was not accidental. Not like this time. White had to punish them with the Vindicta. After that, me and Blue were created. Era 0 had ended with a misfortune but it began with a new opportunity. And the other gems created with the Mark were either destroyed, or... Well, surely you have an idea" she said that last part bitterly. She was not proud of those times. It was a mess back then, but also the stronger their empire had been.

"Thank you" Garnet got up, gesturing for Pearl to do the same.

"Uh... No need, I think" Yellow answered uncomfortably.

~

It was too late again, so late that neither of them expected to find Steven awake. Nor Spinel or Amethyst. That is why, when they heard music and voices in the background, they were so surprised that for long minutes they did not move from where they were standing, and shrouded in darkness.

"What do we...?" Pearl began with her hands clasped. Garnet shook her head.

"Let them have their fun, while they still can"

To be continued...

Notes:

I decided to upload two chapters in a row because I did not want to make my readers suffer more for not having written anything in such a long time. So HERE YOU HAVE CHAPTERS 5 and 6! \: D /

(and sorry for any mistakes I've made :'3)

[onf-headcanons]

ONF UNIVERSITY AU

A/n : ok this is just the first (?) elaboration of the au. This is also meshed with senpai au. I actually already had a few moodboards (Yuto and Minseok ones) and a senpai AU of Seungjoon that opened up the idea, its just i did not have the time and luxury to expand the au. Another reason was that timing i am still learning about ONF so I don't want to go too OOC on things I am not familiar with.

To keep it short, the boys actually formed a dance club and they named themselves ONF

I do said dance club but if you wanna utilise it like F4 from meteor garden, it totally flexible

Also totally doable if you wanna use the university au as the main worldbuilding for other AU, examples, Sibling AU, or any BF headcanons I have mentioned like the MTL for PDA. MTL to confess and MTL to leave hickies, so do check out masterlist (that is constantly updating )

Also, even though it might retcon some setting I have already done, but it is totally doable for University AU to be the prequel for Office AU.

OH HEADS UP, FOR THIS AU I AM ALTERING THEIR AGE. Their real life age difference are about 4-5 years which is unrealistic to fit for the au, so shrink age difference to 1-2 years. 

One of the project they did as a dance club, which they uploaded

Let see the members headcanons below

Hyojin : Probably musical student but if we were to jump out from stereotype,I do feel him studying marketing (analysts side)

OK if this boy does not finish his assignments in the cafeteria, then he is not Kim Hyojin lol. Constantly munching something while he trying to finish assignment or solve a problematic question

Even if Seungjoon drags him to library to do assignments . HYOJIN DEFO GONNA MAKE EXCUSE TO BUY BEVERAGE FOR THE 2 OF THEM AND SNEAKS OUT FOR A SHORT WHILE.

The type that try his best on getting good results on every class. But he never brags about it.

Should we give him a senpai au plot, I would write him as the senpai you have a crush on since high school and you did not know he attend the same university as you.

Changyoon : Design student for sure😉 Interior design, graphic design or even fashion design. Oh! Film Director also not bad? (I mean he has loads of ideas and thoughts also let's not forget about Incomplete MV)

Ppl which are not in their circles would be like, "how did you even get along with the others?" Because his majors are very different compared to the other 6

Hmm I do feel it is more like Changyoon did not make the first move to join the group. Probably the Capricorns/ENFPS (Seungjoon or Jaeyoung)

So maybe he kinda drop by to a short marketing class so that he can gain insight on how advertisements film can grasp audience heart. There he either met Hyojin or Seungjoon (maybe both) ,then only the bond gets deeper

After knowing each other he finally comfortable to be himself and does not feel awkward anymore...

Also including this hc here because I only thought of it when writing. HYOJIN,CHANGYOON, SEUNGJOON AND MINKYUN teaming up to sing something? Like them 4 have a YouTube channel that upload their covers, without showing their faces, using illustrations drawn by Changyoon

Seungjoon : Could go for science genre or maybe business administration? Also anything related with mathematics(that need flexible solving) might suit him too

Might occasionally appear in the library. Not really searching for books to read,more on giving himself the environment to complete assignments. But visits bookstore too

Maybe, the most social-able being in the group. Constantly waving or say hi to acquaintance/classmates passing by. Even though that, there are never rumours or scandals of Seungjoon being playboy. (But totally the first one in the group to get a GF, hint established in his senpai au)

Like people only notices the group because of him because of his social skills. Its kind of like the fairy who brings/enlarge the fandom lol

You can read his Senpai au here

Might doing part time job at a cafe nearby university because of distance+ time convenience purposes. The other members of the group might occasionally hang out at the place, waiting for him to finish his shift or Yuto to finish his lessons and then they go eat dinner

Jaeyoung : High chance of choosing communication related genre or/also social science/sociology related genre. I won't be surprised if he will choose psychology or behavioural science

Easily to find him in library searching for books to read/expand his pov. Sitting beside windows

One of the hyungs that will explains Korean to Yuto. Especially idioms.

First impression would be the quiet good looking one that definitely gonna stay back to ask lecturer more questions

The second on in the group to get a GF. But very very low key.

Linking to the tutor AU I posted recently, he might be teaching online to gain extra income because he does not want to do part time job to exhaust himself as he want to reserve energy to dance. Which also the main factor he suggested Yuto to do online teaching later

Minkyun : Musical student but focusing on composing. To jump from stereotypes, he could be going to broadcast communications, to become professional radio DJ

He might also join another club which is established by uni it self to make radio broadcast that plays at the cafeteria.

Cues in other members all recognise his voice immediately. Lol if he qccidentally messed up on some wordings, the next time they meet they are gonna tease him for sure haha

OK this applies to all of them but I only remembered to include this during writing for Minkyun, the boys are totally banned from playing any games at the cafeteria lol (not a strict ban but they are loud lol.) So they changed plans to play game and hangout at home, with Yuto coming over to sleep over.

Yuto : the exchange student / the foreign student who is majoring in Korean language. High chance going for Korean language teaching later.

Once they knew Yuto's Korean Proficiency level are above average, the boys are supportive and proud of him af. Lol also his devilish hyungs teasing him that he should get a girlfriend, it is a way to master language lol

Cues in his hyungs helping him out by giving him small tests of Korean grammar

Could be the only one who lives in university dorms. But he gets to have sleepovers with his hyungs at their house during weekends (rent or family residence,up to you)

Even encourages him to try out online teaching beginners first to gain experiences

Probably feeling sadden the most when found out Minseok had to quit university. Also could not help feeling lonely when his hyungs graduated. (Some did extend studies but some did not. My hunch, Minkyun and Chang Yoon could be the first two to graduated first. Jaeyoung and Yuto being the last two to graduate)

Minseok : a junior who studies history and choosing Japanese + Chinese as sub majors. Who knows, he might choose translating/interpreting as major later (I mean have you seen some interviews where he used Japanese and Chinese, damn his pronunciation is good, trust me cos i speak both language)

Did not get to stay long, maybe just 1 year and a half then he had to quit university because his whole family are moving out from the country (no worries they contact each other online frequently). His hyungs defo doing a farewell party for him.

Even though short time, but he gained the title of university sweetheart by the first day he starts uni. 

Same as Seungjoon and Jaeyoung, the type to find him in library alot.

Of course gonna ask Yuto a lot of Japanese grammar questions

BTW if link to Sibling AU, should we link it to the double Kim household, Minseok did not drop out. He could have participated an exchange program and had to leave for overseas to complete a course at a better institute

A/N : Ok I am gonna stop here before it gets even messier (slaps forehead I changdolled while writing this)

[ad1thi]

a regular clark kent

based on AMAZING art  by @anthon-e,   which i asked to use a reference so long enough that my url was different (hi its tcnystcnks!! as you can see ive rebranded, im so sorry this took so long).

/

Tony loved that he owned a bookstore

Genuinely

He saved up for three years working tables at Ms Carter’s diner, before he had enough to buy the storefront across the street on the corner of 5th and Main from Rhodey, who had generously been holding for him - all the while saying “Tones you can just use the store you don’t need to buy it off me I’ll give it to you for free” - but Tony had 18 years of people giving him things (before he refused to work for SI and his dad cut him off) , and he wanted to earn this

It took about 5 weeks of work, but Stark Scrolls opened on the 26th of January

That had been 4 years and 8 months ago

Tony was man enough to admit that initially customers came in because everyone wanted to see where the Stark Heir had finally ended up, but now - he’d like to think that people came for his books

He kept an extensive collection of both fiction and non fiction books, and he famously sold university and college textbooks for a steal

(not to mention that a lot of them were second hand, and came with notes and doodles on the side from previous owners)

After his first year, he expanded to the next store over and added a coffee shop; because MIT students had given up looking for space in the library and were frequently sitting in the aisles of his store to study

He had a couple regulars - and one of them, Peter Parker, was even working part time to help pay off his student loans

He loved being a bookstore owner

A fact that was particularly hard to remember at this exact moment, because he was stretching on his tiptoes (while already on a ladder) to reach a box that Rhodey had stashed away while he was on leave - clearly not accounting for the difference in height between him and Tony

“Excuse me?” a voice underneath him startles Tony, and he looses balance - falling face first down to the ground

Tony closes his eyes and braces for impact - that never comes

Automatically, his hands wrap around the solid body thats clutching him, and he opens his eyes closely - one after another as he comes to grips with the fact that he didn’t just die

He’s in the arms of possibly the most attractive man he’s ever met, bright blue eyes and gorgeous blond hair

Tony’s close enough to count the freckles decorating his face, and he can feel himself turning rapidly red

“Hi,” the man says warmly, clearly oblivious to Tony’s inner monologue, “I’m Steve”

“You can put me down now Steve,” Tony says with a squeak, feeling the air return to his lungs when Steve reacts instantly and sets him down

“Sorry about that,” Steve says sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to startle you”

“I’m Steve,” he says again, “I just moved into the neighbourhood and Ms Carter said that you were someone to get to know”

Steve makes a show of looking him up and down, which does nothing to dampen Tony’s blush, “she was definitely right”

Fin

//

in case anyone’s interested, i do have another bookshop au called take a page out of my book, where toni seduces bucky with her shameless supply of erotica

[mimymomo]

Homeless Eurydice HC’s

I made a post a while ago about homeless Eurydice AU and an anon asked me to expand the AU further so here it is after a long wait. Thank you for being patient anon!!! There’s a lot of them so I’ll be putting most under the read-more link.

Pre-Orpheus:

Home was not a word Eurydice was familiar with. Sure, she had heard it constantly flung around in public and on TV shows and songs, and questioned by others at school and work, but the idea of ‘home’ and herself never seemed to mix. 

From a young age, she found herself bouncing and forth from one misfit foster home to the next, staying at no place for longer than a year.

Even her original residence left many things to be desired: an absentee father, an alcoholic, rarely-present mother with her numerous cruel and creepy boyfriends. It was less a home and more a temporary place until CPS picked her up at age 9. By age 17, she’d had enough: no more homes. She knew she wasn’t going to be adopted, no one wanted a problem child with issues up the wazoo.

So she ran.

For the first few months, Eurydice lived in a tent- it was spring/summer so for the most part, besides the occasional rainstorm, she was fine. She was in school during half of these months so she could shower/eat there and had a place to store some of her belongs. When summer broke out, she took to bathing in ‘less than desirable’ places when the school wasn’t open (public bathrooms with a washcloth and sometimes even outsides in lakes/a kitty pool she bought to wash clothes to save money). But fall rolls around, this has to change.

She devises a plan to spend the spring/summer months in her tent and the fall/winter months in shelters or friend's houses.

Eurydice gets a job at a fast-food joint (NIGHTSHIFTS ARE A GODSEND!) and becomes a master at saving/dividing money. She likes working at restaurants do to food accessibility. 

She will sometimes purposely mess up orders so she can eat the returned mistakes. Most managers don’ t catch on but one did and nearly fired her. Some co-workers notice how small and constantly hungry Eurydice always is and often try to sneak/buy her food on her break (Eurydice is more stubborn than a mule so usually outwardly refuses but will eat it secretly).

She buys a membership to a really cheap and crappy gym in order to use their showers (she had some BAD experiences while trying to use said showers but the ability to bathe wins out not using them anymore). 

Over the next few years, she PERFECTS the art of keeping good hygiene and smelling good on a budget: a spritz of cheap body spray before drying her skin/clothes completely and travel-sized/dollar store toiletries will go miles!

Eurydice is a master pickpocketer. She won’t do it often because she’s prideful and hates not paying but sometimes when money is real-tight, she the bite the bullet Her most shoplifted items are tampons/pads, washcloths/hand towels, sanitary items, socks, and granola bars. She’ll usually buy one or two items to distract workers from the small stuff she stuffs into her bag.

Eurydice has had to do some other pretty questionable acts that she’s not proud of to get money/shelter but only as an absolute necessity.

Eurydice keeps a tally of ‘How Many Coffeeshops Kick Me Out Because I Make Other Customers Uncomfortable/Other Random Reasons.” She’s at 7 so far. She’s become quite the loiterer (her favorite places are college campuses and libraries). 

Meeting Orpheus:

She never meant to go home with him, never meant to even meet the boy with wide, shiny hazel eyes that stared into her soul. It had been a completely random occurrence. 

She had only wanted a drink: it was the middle of spring but it still felt like freezing cold winter. She needed something to perk her up. 

He was working the bar, wiping down the counter and serving up drinks with a smile that passed the obligatory customer service smile she often wore at her own job. He looked so young, a beacon of natural light in the dark, dinginess of bar. She doesn’t pay him any mind past ordering her drink (the boy stutters as she does so, face flushed pink and he stares at her for far too long. He can’t form a full sentence and instead just nods at her order). An older gentleman with dark skin wearing a fancy silver suit begins conversing with her, asking what brings her in. She doesn’t know what it is, but before she realizes it, she’s immediately spilling her predicament. Nothing too major, she’s not that stupid, but she does admit she has nowhere else to go. 

“I’m a homeless runaway who’s in desperate need of a drink. Problem with that?”

She moves from the bar counter to an old table that runs along the sides of the bar wall. She’s lost in her thoughts when it happens:

“Come home with me!” 

That’s what he says to her, that beautiful, idiotic bartender with the pretty eyes. Not “hello again”, not “here’s your order”, freaking “come home with me...” Hell, he didn’t even remember her drink!

Eurydice meant to laugh him off, tell him to buzz off and continue on with her night drinking away her woes in peace. Yet, she doesn’t. They, to her utter shock, hit it off surprisingly well. He’s sweet, a bit on the naive side, and has the most precious laughing expression Eurydice has ever seen. 

She learns his name is Orpheus, he’s a year younger than her and he works part-time as a bartender here at his guardian's (Orpheus points to the man in the silver suit and he affectionately refers to him as Mister Hermes) bar. He also a musician. 

“You’re a player huh? Hope you’re not planning to break my heart, poet.”“No, of course not! I’m not like that.”He tells her about his dream of his song one day being played all over the world and spreading love to all that hear it.

“So you wanna be famous and make a load of money?”

Orpheus shakes his head, “it’s not about the money Eurydice. It’s about expressing feelings to others. Telling a story and hoping that everyone who hears will understand what you mean.” 

Eurydice is definitely not enamored by the boy and his poetic words

Eurydice forces Orpheus to sing to her before she agrees to go home with him (”I have to make sure you weren’t a liar as well as a player.”). By the time the first note spills from his lips, she sold.

His apartment is small, modest and cramped, half scribbled in notebooks and sheets of crumpled up paper litter the ground. Pictures of Orpheus, Mister Hermes and some other relatives Eurydice doesn’t recognize decorate his walls and shelves. An acoustic guitar sits undisturbed in its stand in the corner of the one-bedroom home. Nothing happens that night, which stuns Eurydice. Men always want something more. They sit and talk, moving from the living area to the queen-sized bed.

Eurydice asks Orpheus why he decided to let her stay and he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because I didn’t want you to be all alone in the cold.” Eurydice would’ve been pissed had anyone else said this to her, she was an adult damn it. She could take care of herself. However, it didn’t sound patronizing coming from his lips. He just genuinely cared. 

 Eurydice lets Orpheus spoon her from behind, his warm breath tickling the hairs on her neck. She drifts off to sleep to the sounds of Orpheus’ light, harmonious snores, the rest of the outside world for once is silent. It’s the best sleep she’s had in years.

Eurydice thinks that it was a one time deal. That Orpheus, with his head in the clouds and eyes towards the sky, would move on and forget all about her. 

But he doesn’t. 

He invites to come back the next day as she’s heading out the door.

“You can come back tonight! If you want, that is.” 

Eurydice doesn’t say anything at first. She just leaves with a quiet, “we’ll see.”

She finds herself back at the bar and in Orpheus’ bed again that night.

She finds herself returning to the quaint apartment again and again. She makes excuses (the shelter ran out of rooms, my tent has a hole in it, etc.), she’s sure Orpheus doesn’t buy them after a while but he never questions her which she greatly appreciates.

Soon, she starts leaving things in his house. Small things- a bag, some clothes, a toothbrush. Small things turn into big things then all of her things.

Their relationship quickly morphs from friendship to romantic in the following weeks. Were they moving fast? Yes, definitely. Too fast? Maybe, but for them, it wasn’t fast enough. 

Eurydice doesn’t know when she started thinking of Orpheus’ apartment as her home but she clearly remembers the first time she said it out loud: she’s outside the bar, kissing Orpheus goodbye as he’s heading into work.

“See you at home lover boy.” She pauses, home? Is that what it is?

Orpheus, not noticing her hesitation, kisses her once more, “I’ll see you at home. Love you.”

‘Home, huh?’ For the first time, the word didn’t sound funny rolling off her tongue. It didn’t send acidic shocks down to her stomach, quite the opposite really, she felt butterflies fluttering about in its place. Home. She finally had a home. ‘Maybe wasn’t such a bad thing after all?’ She smiled as she continued her way back to her and Orpheus’ apartment, already ready to see her boyfriend back at home.

I’m so sorry that this is so late anon! But it’s super long so I hope that makes up for it slightly!

[chiefnooniensingh]

I Won’t Hesitate (for you) Chapter 4

Chapter 4: You can be (my saving light)

In this chapter: In the past, Michael and Alex grow closer. In the present day, Alex meets the first of the passengers in his attempt to unmask the murderer. Alex and Michael have trouble being around each other.

A/n: This chapter is where we earn the M rating! And I took two of the most heartbreaking and soft moments from the show and managed to write it into this AU, I'm very happy about it!

As always, a special thanks to Aileen (@acomebackstory), Callie (@callieramics), @hm-arn, @royalshadowhunter and @ladymajavader over on Tumblr for their continued support and cheerleading. I don't know if I would've finished it without you guys!

Last week's chapter was titled "Do not try me, devil devil" and it was taken from the song "Devil Devil" by MILCK and this was guessed correctly by @Lire_Casander! Thank you for reading and great job!

Can anyone guess this week's title and performing artist?

Also on: ao3

other chapters: 1 2 3

June, 1924

Alex was lying underneath the tree on the schoolyard, the sun warming his face pleasantly. He was eating an apple, just as when he’d first met Michael.

A lot had changed since then.

Michael and Alex had become…friends, to a kind. In a way only abused children can become friends; as fellow victims, wary of all human contact, even each other’s. But they had found a comfortable routine between them, one that kept them both sane and kept Alex away from his father’s house for as much as possible.

After school they studied together in the library, to which his father could hardly protest. He always criticized Alex for his grades; Alex stepping up his studying by spending hours in the library could only please him. If Alex was ever truly able to please his father. On weekends Alex went to help out on the Foster’s Ranch, where Old Foster had enough work for the two of them. His father didn’t approve of Michael, but Alex never mentioned him and simply pretended they never even crossed paths.

But now the holidays approached, and Alex was nervous. He was afraid the Foster’s Ranch wouldn’t provide him with enough of an excuse to be away from home as much as possible. These last few months had been almost bearable at home. Only rarely did Jesse Manes have a reason to beat Alex anymore. Alex was afraid with the extra free time, the beatings would increase too.

“You can always come stay at the ranch indefinitely,” Michael suggested, plucking away on the old guitar he’d gotten from Old Foster. Michael had taken to bringing it to school and play for Alex while Alex stared at him admiringly.

Alex scoffed, “Yeah, my father would love that. His personal boxing ball living away from home at sixteen? He would have to pay for an actual boxing ball, that might just kill him.”

Michael shot him a look that clearly said, then perish, but said nothing. He continued to play instead. Alex hummed along, closing his eyes against the bright sunlight. Michael’s guitar playing always managed to relax Alex in a way no other music was able to. Maybe because it was music straight from the source (Michael). Or maybe it was the source itself (Michael).

Either way, his body relaxed slightly. “I’ll survive. I have for fifteen years in that hell hole. I will for another two.”

Michael’s hand slipped from the strings and a truly horrible off-key tone came from the guitar, making Alex wince. “Two?”

“Yeah. I’m going into the army when I’m seventeen. Just like my hero brothers and my highly decorated father.” He tried to keep the bitterness to a bare minimum.

Michael frowned, picking up where he left off in the song, but with less gusto. “The army? You even want to go?”

Alex opened his eyes and met Michael’s dark eyes. Michael looked genuinely upset, and Alex felt his heart twinge. “No. The army is everything I don’t want.” He sat up, the warmth of the sun seeping out of his body like he’d just been dunked in ice water. “But since when do I have a choice?” He started pulling on the grass, yanking it out by the handful and flinging it away from him. “Besides, when I’m in the army, at least I’ll be away from my father. And I’d do anything to be away from him.” Tears stung in his eyes and he wiped them away angrily.

Michael’s warm hand suddenly enveloped the one angrily destroying the grass, stilling his movements. Alex froze. Michael’s touch still sent a shock through Alex’s body. Every time the two of them touched, either for a hug or a high five or any other touch, Alex would feel a bolt of electricity spreading from the place he was touched to the top of his head and the tips of his toes.

It confused and frustrated him. He didn’t know what it meant, why his body reacted that way to a man. He’d read plenty of books to know men often reacted like this to women. Alex did not recognize that feeling, that much he knew at least.

“Here,” Michael said, pulling him from his frustrated brooding. He held out his guitar to Alex, looking at him expectantly. “You’ll need at least some skill to impress those military assholes, so you might as well learn a bit of guitar.”

Michael always did this. Whenever Alex began to pull back into his head, when fear began to take over, when things seemed at their absolute worst, Michael would pull him out of it with a quip and a distraction. After 7 months of friendship, Michael knew Alex better than his own family did. Michael felt safe in a way Alex had never felt with anyone, except maybe his mother.

He smiled and took the guitar, placing it on his knee. Michael chuckled, took it from him and turned it around. “You’re a righty, Alex. That’s the one you’re going to use to actually produce the music.” Michael positioned Alex’s hands like a professional. Alex felt awkward and his fingers kept slipping. Michael chuckled again. “Alright, here.” Before Alex knew what was happening, Michael was sitting very close, one arm slung casually across Alex’s shoulder as his hand helped Alex’s find a comfortable position. Alex felt heat rise to his cheek and he lost track of Michael’s words for a second, as all he could feel was Michael’s exceptional warmth pressed against his side and his rough fingers positioning Alex’s own carefully. “Okay, so this is G. Together with E minor, C and D, the easiest chord to learn. Press down on the strings hard, otherwise the tone will be flat, like now.” Michael ran his right hand across the strings and indeed, the tone fell flat. Alex pressed his fingers harder against the strings. It hurt, but it was a pleasant kind of pain; like he was earning the good notes. “Alright, now you try. Just go from the top to the bottom with your fingers.”

His wrist aching, his fingers screaming against the sting of the metal, Alex pressed down on the strings as hard as he could and brought his fingers from the top string to the bottom string. It did not sound half-bad. Michael smiled encouragingly, and Alex tried a few times, the chord sounding surer and clearer every time. Alex felt his face stretch into a smile as he tried different strumming patterns, taken from memories of Michael playing.

After that Michael taught him two more chords, and suddenly he was playing an actual tune. “There you go!” Michael said, smiling brightly when Alex managed three chords successively without pausing to think. “You might be a natural.”

Alex looked up at him to thank him, but the words stuck in his throat. Michael was still so very close. Their legs were pressed together and if Alex moved forward an inch, their heads would collide quite painfully. Michael’s eyes were large as they stared at each other, both apparently at a loss for words. Alex felt like he might drown in those eyes if he didn’t look away soon, but something stopped him from actually breaking eye contact. His stomach was doing several summersaults, and he felt his cheeks start to burn. They were sharing the same air now. “Thank you,” he managed to croak out finally.

Michael smiled, his eyes flicking to Alex’s mouth for a second before looking back into Alex’s eyes. Alex did not look away.

And then Michael’s lips were on his.

Time stopped.

The world faded away.

All Alex knew anymore was Michael’s lips pressed on his, and one of his rough hands sliding ever so gently up to rest in his neck, his fingers burning against Alex’s skin. Before Alex knew what he was doing, he was kissing Michael with just as much passion, both his hands coming up to grab Michael by the collar, pulling him closer, then letting his hands drift into Michael’s curls.

Doubts and confusion were gone. Alex was sure of only one thing, and that was that he wanted Michael to keep kissing him. That he would do almost anything for Michael to never stop caressing his face, for Alex’s fingers to never leave Michael’s hair.

They had to come up for air though, and the broke apart with a gasp. They were breathing heavily. Michael’s pupils were dilated to a point his eyes looked almost black and he looked absolutely astonished. Alex knew the feeling. “Have you…” Alex began, but had to take several breaths before he felt steady enough to continue. “Have you ever done that before?”

Michael laughed, a little breathless. “Yeah. Yeah, but never…”

“Never with a guy?” Michael nodded and they both burst into giggles. “Yeah, me too.”

“Is this okay?” Michael asked, pressing his forehead against Alex’s, his hands still in Alex’s neck, the same way Alex’s fingers were still firmly tangled in Michael’s hair.

Alex nodded feverishly. “More than okay. Yeah. Yup. I mean. Wow.” They both laughed again, and then they were kissing again. They sank into the soft grass and they spent the rest of the afternoon tangled up, exploring each other and expanding their relationship beyond what either of them had dared to dream.

The guitar lay forgotten next to them.

Present day, 20th October, 1935

Alex was sitting in the dining carriage. Beth Otto had volunteered to help Isobel clean herself up before talking to Alex, and Alex was waiting for the both of them to return. He flipped through his notebook, trying to piece together what little he knew.

Noah Bracken killed Rosa Ortecho fifteen years ago. He was accused but acquitted on accounts of no evidence. Fifteen years later, Rosa Ortecho’s murderer becomes the victim of a murder himself. Murdered on board the Orient Express, in a locked cabin, with only his wife in the cabin with him. The wife is the obvious suspect. However, the time of death roughly corresponds to the train’s stop in Vinkovci, and combined with an unexplained open window whilst the coldest autumn in years was sweeping through Europe, it was also very possible a murderer had slipped aboard the train in Vinkovci, murdered Noah Bracken and escaped through the window before the train departed again. But what is the meaning of the burned newspaper clipping? A message? A covering of tracks? Maybe a private detective on board spooked Noah Bracken? And how to explain the dozen or so vastly different wounds?

Alex had the feeling he was missing something very vital, but he did not despair yet. He had not talked to any of the passengers. Right now, they were his suspects.

“Hey,” a soft voice startled him out of his thoughts. Alex looked up to see Michael standing by his table. His hands were in his pockets and he was looking bashful, looking at him through his curls. He looked beautiful.

Alex shook his head slightly and shot him a brave smile. “Hey.”

“Mind if I sit?” Michael said, placing his hand on the back of the chair across from Alex. Alex nodded and Michael sat down. It was strange to be so close to Michael without any discomfort between them. They looked at each other for a while, Alex feeling his shoulders relax slowly. “You okay, Alex?” Hearing his name from Michael’s lips like that, in that soft, concerned voice made Alex nearly melt. He’d always been weak for Michael, and ten years of separation had evidently not changed that.

Alex sighed. ‘Yeah,” he said, then shook his head, “it’s a weird case.”

Michael nodded, never taking his eyes off Alex’s face. Alex was suddenly very aware of his hands lying on the table next to his notebook. Michael’s elbows were on the table as well and Alex had half a mind to take his hands.

But he’d lost that right when he walked away a decade ago. It was no use dwelling on it now.

“So how’ve you been, Alex?” Michael asked finally.

Alex shrugged. “You know. Went to war. Got my knee shot to hell. Nearly died. Then went into the private investigator branch. Turns out I’m pretty good at it.”

Michael chuckled. “You always were able to spot the little details.” The fondness in Michael’s voice completely threw Alex. After the cool demeanour Michael had held towards him since they ran into each other, this was the last thing Alex expected.

“How have you been?” Alex almost feared the answer. It opened the window for Michael to really go off on him.

Michael surprised him yet again, however. “It was really bad for a while, after high school. No job, no family…but then my siblings found me.”

“The ones who got adopted and had to leave you behind in that foster home?”

Michael nodded. Alex heart clenched with joy for Michael. He and his sister and brother had been found by the side of the road as small children. Michael had been an unruly child, and when his siblings got adopted, the adoptive parents refused to take Michael home as well. It had left Michael deeply scarred, leading to his early alcohol and nicotine abuse and overall delinquent behaviour. Though he’d usually managed to stay within the lines of the law. Usually. “Yeah. Turns out they had been trying to find me for a few years, but since I ran away from that last foster home, nobody knew where I was. But they found me, a year or two ago. We’ve been growing closer ever since then. It’s been really great reconnecting with them.”

“Michael, that’s amazing,” Alex said, and before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed Michael’s hand. Michael barely flinched, just turned his palm upwards and stroked Alex’s hand with his thumb. Alex returned the gesture in kind. Just like that, Alex was back under their tree, looking at Michael for the first time after their kiss. A full decade had not been enough to make him forget how he felt for Michael. In some ways, nothing had changed between them.

But in other ways, everything had changed.

Alex swallowed hard, closed his eyes and gathered his courage. “Michael, I’m sorry. But I have to ask. Where were you around 3am?”

Michael’s movement stilled and the atmosphere became absolutely frosty. “Seriously?” Michael asked, jerking his hand back. Alex’s hand remained behind on the table, feeling cold. He shivered slightly. “We’re having a moment here, trying to fucking reconnect, and you want to know if I have an alibi? You honestly suspect me?”

Alex clenched his eyes shut. God, he had the worst timing in the world. “I’m really sorry, Guerin, I really am, but I have to know. The carriage was locked on all sides. You were one of only 8 people who could’ve done this. I need to know. If nothing else, I need to rule you out. I can’t let personal feelings get in the way of this.”

Michael scoffed. “Alright, Alex,” he said, with nothing of the softness in his voice, “A few minutes before three we arrived in Vinkovci, and I went outside. I blew the whistle for the 1-minute sign at 5 past three. At three oh six, the train continued on its way and I went back to my cabin to warm up, since it was freezing outside. I did not emerge until around 4, when Mrs DeLuca rang the bell and asked me to refill her water jug. After that, I was not outside my cabin until Mrs Bracken started screaming. Satisfied?” He jumped to his feet, and Alex rose as well, feeling absolutely miserable.

“Michael, wait.” He grabbed Michael’s arm just as the other man wanted to pace off. “I spent last evening with the DeLuca’s and Dr Kyle, and the way Kyle and Maria interacted…I don’t know. It made me think about who I was, when all this started. Before I went to war.”

Michael pulled his arm from Alex grip and looked at him in near contempt. “Yeah, well, where I stand nothing’s changed.” His voice was like a dagger straight through the heart, but the words also sparked some anger in Alex.

“Yeah. Including the way you look at me.” Michael, who had been poised to retort with something undoubtedly hurtful, shut his mouth with a snap, his eyes widening. “And that’s a problem for me, Guerin.” Alex wasn’t exactly yelling, but his usually quiet voice had gotten a sharp edge to it. All the hurt and confusion he’d been feeling over the past 24 hours was bubbling to the surface and he was unable to hold any of it back. “Because every time you look at me, I’m 17 again. And I forget that the last ten years even happened!” Michael’s entire face was transforming, from decidedly pissed off to something akin to astounded. “And then you look away! And I remember all over again, and it almost kills me! Every time!” Alex was embarrassed to hear his voice break at the end, but the words were out now. Michael was frozen, staring at him with eyes as wide as saucers.

Just as Alex was about to turn around, giving up on him completely, Michael opened his mouth, and Alex was surprised to see a single tear escape from his eye. “I never look away,” Michael said, his voice surprisingly soft. “Not really.”

Alex opened his mouth to reply, although he wasn’t sure what, but then the carriage door slid open and Beth entered with an arm firmly wrapped around Isobel Bracken’s shoulders. “Oh, I’m sorry, did we interrupt something?” Beth said, looking startled as she saw the two men standing not two feet apart, both looking equally devastated.

Alex was the first to snap out of it. “No, of course not. We were just finished.”

Michael threw Alex a hard to read look and then exited the carriage, but not without brushing his hand against Alex’s. The familiar shock of electricity went through him for a second, and then Michael was gone. Before turning to face the two women, he wiped hastily at his eyes.

He had to snap out of it. A murder had been committed on board this train, and whilst the victim was most likely a vicious killer himself, Alex’s sense of justice would not allow him to let this go. He was going to solve this, preferably before they arrived in Paris in two days. In short, he was on a deadline.

“Mrs. Bracken,” he said kindly as he turned around and extended his arm for her to take. She did so, shakily, and allowed him to guide her to his table. “I’m so sorry for you loss, ma’am. I cannot imagine what you are going through.”

“Thank you, detective,” Mrs Bracken said, her voice shaking badly. “I think this qualifies as the worst day of my life, truly.” Every other word, she had to bring her handkerchief to her mouth to stop a sob from escaping. Alex noted that she had been cleaned up and looked quite put together for a woman who had just gone through the worst morning any spouse can go through.

“Miss Otto, would you mind giving us some privacy?” he requested of Beth, who had been hovering over Isobel. She nodded, squeezed Isobel’s shoulder in support and left the carriage.

“Mrs Bracken, I know this is a very trying time, but if we want this murder solved before we arrive in Paris, I need to know everything you can tell me about your husband. Had he any enemies?”

Isobel hiccupped. “I mean, he ran an oil company. He made quite a lot of money. One can’t make money in oil without making some enemies. But there was nothing that pointed to someone threatening him, if that’s what…” She trailed off, her face transforming almost comically to thoughtfulness. Alex cocked an eyebrow in question. “Well, he got some weird letter before we boarded the train. As we were checking out of our hotel, the clerk gave him an envelope. He opened it, read it, and became very upset. He first tore it in half, then stuffed it in his suitcase with a promise to burn it first change he got, which he eventually did in our cabin. When I asked, he wouldn’t tell me what was in it.”

Alex wrote it all down, noting that the burned piece of newspaper could very well have been in this envelope Mr Bracken had received. “How did he appear after that? At dinner, for example?”

“He was very distant, would barely talk to me. He was engrossed in his papers, even though he had promised not to work on our holiday. But it was almost as if he was possessed, he was almost feverish. I offered him some of my sleeping medicine, but he wouldn’t take it and, oh…” Suddenly she teared up again. “Oh god,” she wailed, “the last talk we ever had was an argument. I can’t believe this is happening!”

Alex nodded, allowing her to cry for a minute. He knew from experience grieving widows were especially hard to interrogate. Pushing it would only make them more upset, but he couldn’t be too lax. They usually had some vital piece of information. “Mrs. Bracken, please, just a little while longer. You said sleeping medicine. What kind do you take?”

“Barbital,” Mrs Bracken said, and Alex raised an eyebrow. “It’s not that unusual, Mr Manes. I’ve had night terrors, and they stopped when I started taking barbital.”

“Mrs Bracken,” Alex said, working to keep his voice even. “Your husband’s bedtime tea was laced with barbital. That’s why he never fought back.”

Isobel’s eyes widened, her eyes filling up with fresh tears and she let out a heartbroken wail. “You don’t think I gave him the barbital, do you? I would never drug my husband, Mr Manes!” She sniffed. “I will check if a bottle is missing for you, Mr Manes. Just to give you some peace of mind.”

Alex inclined his head in thanks, wrote down the new information, and continued. “In Istanbul, did you notice anyone following you?” Isobel shook her head. “And finally, did you at any point during the night, open your window?”

She looked at him like he was crazy. “Mr Manes, it is barely 41 degrees outside. Why would I do that?” Then she started sobbing again. “He was so cold…”

Alex wrote it down and closed his notebook. “Thank you, Mrs. Bracken. I will need to talk to you again later, but I will let you process this a bit further first.”

Isobel rose, still sobbing, and left the carriage, leaving Alex behind, lost in thought.

So, the murderer had sent the newspaper clipping to Mr and Mrs Bracken’s hotel. Was it a warning? Or a way to make Noah make a wrong move? Blackmail? Was the barbital from Mrs Bracken’s supply? And how did that window open?

Still so many unanswered questions, and more than a few coincidences Alex couldn’t explain away easily.

The carriage door slid open again and a person far less welcome entered. Compagnie director Jesse Manes crossed to his table in two strides and sat down without being invited. “So, Mrs. Bracken did it, yes?”

Alex frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. The door was locked, the only person who could’ve done it is the person in the room.”

“I’m not at all convinced. There are several things that don’t add up. The open window for one. The irregular stab wounds for another. Plus, why would Isobel Bracken want to take revenge for Rosa Ortecho?”

Jesse Manes scoffed. “Please don’t ask me to explain a woman’s logic. They’re not always the most reasonable of sorts.”

Alex rolled his eyes heavily and leant back. “Charming. A true miracle mom didn’t stick around, she really missed out on a quality husband.”

Jesse Manes gave him a contemptuous look. “Don’t blame me for your mother leaving, boy. She wasn’t right in the head.”

“Well, someone wasn’t, anyway. Pretty sure it wasn’t her, though.” Alex rose before Jesse Manes could do anything more than glower at him. “If you would be so kind as to hand me the keys to the luggage carriage. I want to check it for clues. Perhaps even the murder weapon.”

Scowling, Jesse Manes slammed his master keys on the table and rose. “It’s through the Belgrade carriage. Have fun looking through three cars worth of luggage.”

“Thanks!” Alex said, managing to sound cheerful as he grabbed the keys and left the dining carriage before his father could do anything else. As he walked, he noticed his fingers trembling slightly. He’d developed that unfortunate tell after his discharge. It only happened when his adrenaline levels spiked sufficiently enough to bring up his heartrate and fool his body into thinking he was in danger. Being around Jesse Manes apparently triggered it.

He unlocked and relocked the door between the Paris and Belgrade cars, stepped through, and made his way to the back where the luggage carriage was located.

It was one big mess. Mostly overlarge suitcases and meticulously wrapped parcels occupied the space and it wasn’t very well organized. Just looking at this gave Alex a headache. Pushing through it, he began to wade through the luggage.

About ten minutes in, he froze solid. His hand had landed on a guitar case. Slowly, he pulled it from the mess and held it up, vaguely hearing his miserable attempts at producing sound from Michael’s old guitar drift towards him from the past. He almost opened it to see the guitar and hold one in his hands again, when a voice snapped him out of his memories. “Nostalgia is a fickle mistress, yes?”

Alex almost dropped the guitar. Instead, he put it back down carefully and turned around. Michael was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame and smirking slightly. Alex took a step towards him. “You know, after I was discharged, I thought for sure I would never see you again.”

Michael pushed off from the doorframe and took a step forward as well, his hands buried in his pockets again, looking at his feet in a very transparent way to hide his nerves. “Is that what you want?” Michael could barely look him in the eye as he stopped to a halt a few feet away.

Alex blinked a few times, trying to find a suitable answer. What did he want? “We’re not kids anymore. What I want doesn’t matter,” he echoed the words his drill sergeant had yelled at him more often than he cared to remember. And yet he had moved closer to Michael. They were now barely a foot apart.

Michael’s eyes snapped up to Alex’s fully now. Something unspoken went between them. Alex’s eyes flicked to Michael’s lips, and then Michael was on him.

Once again, it was like the last ten years hadn’t ever happened. Michael felt so familiar against him, the warmth of his hand in his neck, how his lips moved against his. Alex’s body reacted instinctively. His hands pulled Michael closer to him by his belt, then tried to find somewhere to hold, but he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch. He wanted to touch everywhere. When he landed on his waist, he wanted to touch his face. When his hand was on Michael’s face, he wanted to run his hands through those curls.

Michael walked him backwards, and Alex’s back hit the wooden wall with a thump. Both moaned softly as Michael pressed himself against Alex as close as possible and Alex could already feel Michael’s arousal against his leg. Michael’s hands were roaming all over his body and in the end landed on Alex’s hips. His fingers dug into his flesh, drawing another gasp from Alex’s lips.

Alex heart felt full to bursting. He hadn’t been kissed like this in a decade. Sure, he’d had some kisses here and there, but where does one find a fellow queer man in America in one of the most conservative times of the country? But Michael was the only one who could make his entire being feel on fire with barely a few touches. Michael broke the kiss after what seemed like an eternity, pressing his forehead against Alex’s. Their breathing was heavy, in complete sync as they held onto each other.

Every point of Alex’s body that touched Michael’s was tingling heavily, and his lips felt swollen from Michael’s enthusiastic kisses. “That was…” Michael said, trying to recover his breath.

“A one-time thing,” Alex forced himself to say. The longer he and Michael weren’t kissing, the more he returned to his senses. Michael was a suspect in a murder investigation, Alex wasn’t supposed to be making out with him.

Michael barely looked concerned. “Mm-mm. That’s what you said after that first time.” His hand slid down Alex’s body, landing on his crotch. Alex inhaled sharply, closing his eyes at the intense sensations. “Mmm. I don’t think he quite agrees with you, Alex.”

“God, Guerin,” Alex growled, his hands grabbing Michael’s face and pulling him close again. The kiss was hotter now, fuelled by lust more than pain. Quick as a cat, he spun Michael around, so his back was to the wall now. Alex grabbed his hands and pinned them above their hands. Michael chuckled breathlessly. Even after all this time, Alex still knew exactly what Michael liked.

Alex rolled his hips against Michael’s and the intense friction made them both groan. “Alex,” Michael growled, sounding absolutely wrecked. Alex had to call upon the very last shred of his willpower to pull away enough to look into Michael’s eyes. “This is a very dumb idea,” Michael continued, even as his lips chased Alex’s.

“It is,” breathed Alex, as he nipped Michael’s lips, “You’re a suspect in a murder that I’m investigating.”

“This could be seen as a conflicting interest.” Michael captured Alex’s lower lip between his teeth and bit down lightly.

“It really could,” Alex agreed in a muffled voice.

Still, it took the two of them another ten minutes to recover enough of their self-control to pull apart. At this point, they were both panting heavily, and Alex was painfully hard. He couldn’t help but notice Michael was in the same predicament. “Let’s pretend this never happened, for now, shall we?” he said between heavy breaths.

Michael nodded, not looking at Alex as he tried to regain his breath. “Yeah. We don’t want your father finding us in a compromising position again, huh.”

“Please, don’t joke about that, Michael,” Alex said in a pained voice.

“Sorry.” For a few minutes they were silent, both trying to recover their strength enough to leave. “Okay, I think I’m good now. See you around, Private.” With an absolutely wicked grin, he tapped his conductor’s hat and left the luggage carriage, leaving Alex behind who was in no way shape or form ‘good’.

He would probably not be able to leave this carriage for a while yet. Sitting himself down on the nearest trunk, Alex began rifling through the other luggage at random, hoping to find any clue.

Focus was hard to find, however, and it took him a full two hours more to search the rest of the carriage. He came away with no new clues.

As he re-entered the Paris carriage, he saw Michael talking to the tall white man he’d overheard someone call ‘Max’. Michael spotted him as well, and over the tall man’s shoulder, he threw Alex an absolutely sinful look. Alex groaned inwardly.

It was going to be a very long day.

[aelaer]

Suicide TW!!! I live for the Nick/Stephen frenemy relationship, so: AU where Stephen is severely depressed and, instead of crashing his car, he parks in a pull-over and attempts suicide (drugs, alcohol, cutting, up to you) only to then be hit by an oncoming car. As a result, he ends up in hospital to realise that not only is he still alive, but Nick knows what he did. He can't stand the shame and humiliation, until he hears the words "I'm sorry" out of nowhere.

Okay nonny, so a couple things:

By relationship I presume you meant “platonic relationship” as my list of (serious) romance-focused stories in the MCU is a big fat zero and will remain that way probably for some time. If not all time. But I never say never.

I altered the scenario a bit and decided not to use a car crash, but the main elements (depression/suicide, Nick and Stephen interaction, Nick Knowing) remain. This also sort of allows it to potentially be in the “realm of canon” with enough stretching, should one decide to want the headcanon. Though IMO this is an AU-verse.

So I hope that’s all okay and you still find it fulfilling. I’ve never actually written Nick before (though I dabbled with the idea of all the events of Doctor Strange from Nick’s POV like, back when the film first came out) so that was also fun. I really dislike fics that make him look like an idiot (or worse, a pervert for some weird ass reason) so it’s great to get my own view out.

And I also didn’t want to write a book because I’ve got too many WIPs that are books that need to get finished first, so I was going for “short and sweet”. In a manner of speaking. I mean it seems I’m still incapable of doing something under 2000 words but it’s shorter than the last prompt so you know, I’m getting there. 

As the prompt suggests, this fic will go into detail about very serious subjects around mental health, including depression and suicide. Please proceed with caution if these are sensitive subjects for you. 

Please also note that the symptoms and actions taken within the story are not a guide or diagnosis tool and should be interpreted as strictly fictional. Please refer to official literature such as those offered by the National Suicide Prevention Hotline (US) and other verified sources for what you should do if you believe someone you know is suffering from suicidal thoughts.

Written for @stephenstrangebingo square, “It’s Not About You”.

—————–

Every employee at Metro-General took the confidentiality of their patients’ conditions seriously. There was no doctor or nurse on staff that could be bribed to leak any celebrity’s medical information; they were known for having some of the best doctors for a reason. Many of the elite of New York went to that hospital in the middle of Midtown for that famous discretion.

There was, however, one glaring exception to this rule that every nurse and doctor learned early on: if one of their co-workers had something very serious happen to them, their status would eventually leak out to the rest of the staff. There was never anything particularly hostile about the whispers, and while curiosity was the biggest fuel to the information train, news tended to spread out from concern rather than scorn. This trend even applied to staff members that were generally seen as assholes.

Doctor Nicodemus West learned this during his next shift. A couple minutes after entering his office, just as he was getting into his email inbox, a quick knock at the open door broke his concentration. He looked up and smiled. “Morning, Alyssa.”

The nurse offered a brief smile in greeting, but stepped inside and closed the door before speaking. “Did you hear the news?” she asked softly; her smile was gone.

His brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, news?”

“Doctor Strange was admitted to the ER last night.”

His mind came to a screeching halt. “What? Seriously?” He generally avoided the man if he could, though from what was going around the gossip circles the last couple weeks, Strange was still a raging asshole, but in good health. “What happened?”

Alyssa shook her head. “I don’t know all the details, but he had to get his stomach pumped.”

Nick winced in sympathy; that was not a pleasant experience. “Jeez,” he muttered. “Is he doing okay?”

“Last I heard, he’s stable,” she answered. “Apparently Doctor Palmer’s still his emergency contact, though.”

“She would be anyone’s emergency contact; she’s too good of a person,” he replied in return. “Thanks for letting me know, though; I suspect others in the department may need to take some of his patients that can’t wait for him.”

Alyssa nodded. “The administration is already looking through his cases, though I expect he’ll be up and back at work as soon as he can. Doctor Strange is never really one for breaks.”

“I suppose not,” said Nick. The conversation turned to other topics and the neurosurgeon put the matter with Strange in the back of his mind, left as generally unimportant in the grand scheme of his life.

————— 

Strange got back to work and things got back to normal in the neurology department.

Only thing was, Nick started noticing things.

While Doctor West was no prodigy like Doctor Strange, he would not have the ability to become a neurosurgeon without the ability to notice details. It was the details in life— in the human body in particular— that fascinated him and turned him towards medicine in the first place. No, he wasn’t a prodigy, but he was still damn good at his job.

So when Strange came back to the office a few days after his visit to the ER, Nick decided to break his usual policy of avoiding Strange as much as humanly possible and went to his office to welcome him back. It was good for department morale to act mostly cordial to each other, even if most of the effort was on his part.

The door was open and Strange was still in his outer coat, back to him, when Nick knocked on the doorway. The doctor turned to face him and Nick raised a hand in greeting. “Hey. Just wanted to say welcome back.”

Strange’s brow furrowed and he made a rather weird expression. “Oh… uh, thanks.” He turned to the coat rack in the corner of the room and began to remove his outerwear.

“How’re you…” Nick started, but paused as the coat was fully removed, revealing Strange’s dress shirt underneath. It hung rather loosely on his figure; apparently the man had lost some weight recently. Due to Christine Palmer’s honeymoon phase about two years ago, Nick was more aware than he would prefer to be about how ‘fit’ Doctor Stephen Strange was (which really was unfair).

It seemed that wasn’t the case anymore. When had that happened?

Strange didn’t seem to notice his trailing off. “I’m fine. Perfectly alright, thank you. I hope you didn’t botch any of my surgeries while I was gone.”

And there was the asshole he remembered. Nick pressed his lips together. “All your patients are recovering without setback. You can even see them for yourself.” He did his best to cut back the bite of sarcasm in his last sentence.

If Strange heard it, he didn’t comment on it. “I’ll let the nurses handle it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have a lot of emails to catch up on. Close the door behind you, if you would.”

Nick rolled his eyes and shut the door as he left the office, but the detail seen settled in the back of his mind to remain quiet, but not forgotten.

And with that one thing noticed, he started to notice more things as the weeks passed on.

According to Alyssa, Strange was rarely seen in the hospital cafeteria anymore— one of the cafeteria staff  members who had an open crush on the doctor was complaining about it, apparently.

Strange was having bouts of insomnia, according to gossiping security personnel. There were times that doctors did not go home for the night, but his were becoming more consistent occurrences.

As Nick ate with members from both his usual surgical team and Strange’s surgical team one lunch time a few weeks after Strange came back to work, the topic somehow went to Strange and his uncanny recollection for music, no matter the genre or decade it was released. It was well known that he liked to have the others on his team try and challenge him with their song choices while he was performing his operations.

“Not anymore,” said Billy, and Alyssa frowned at him.

“What? But that’s his gig! He’s been doing that for years.”

Billy shrugged. “He hasn’t been doing it for a few months now. He’s told us he doesn’t care what we want to play, but he doesn’t guess at songs anymore. Doesn’t give any recommendations, either. It sort of sucks; my music library has barely expanded this year.”

“Maybe you need to find something really challenging, a song so obscure that he’ll be drawn into it again,” she said. “I wonder how well he knows Jamaican music.”

“We tried British and Australian Top Hits of the ‘80s last year, but we haven’t done Jamaica. Do Jamaicans generally speak English? He hasn’t memorized songs from every language in the world.”

She rolled her eyes, and as Alyssa started explaining the history of Jamaica and Jamaican Creole, Nick stored this new bit of information away in the section of his brain that, somehow, had become dedicated to collecting all these tidbits.

And Nick noticed that every time he bumped into the other neurosurgeon in the hall, he appeared exhausted. Nick did not know if anyone else noticed the clear loss of weight and the dark bags around his eyes, but they were blindingly obvious to him. 

Usually Strange moved with an endless amount of energy when off to surgery, and with some of the more challenging surgeries the energy stayed with him no matter how long the procedure took. It was an exuberance that even he admired, though it was never something he planned to admit to Strange. But now the energy was missing. He was still snarky and aloof, but the spark of genuine joy that was once clear to everyone in the department was gone.

If Strange was a friend, he would have acted weeks ago. If Strange was a colleague he got along with, he would have waited no longer than a month, just to make sure. But two months after his short medical hiatus and Nick remained uncertain, because this was Stephen Strange. Surely no one as big-headed and arrogant as he could ever actually be— yes, there were some signs, but it just seemed too far-fetched. Surely not.

A couple weeks later and some of the doctors from neurosurgery, some from cardiology, and some from the ER were having a rare lunch together. Somehow Christine Palmer had managed to drag Strange out of his office to see his coworkers. And somehow he ended up sitting next to Strange, though the man was mostly quiet as he took the occasional bite from his salad. That in itself was very unusual, as Nick was used to Strange enjoying all the attention of the room.

The conversation turned to a sudden, inexplicable death that happened just yesterday that the hospital was still trying to solve. As theories went around the table, Nick heard Strange mutter under his breath, “Maybe she just realized life wasn’t worth living.” None of the others heard it. Nick pretended he didn’t, either.

But the comment resonated in his head for the rest of the day.

———— 

This was not going to be comfortable. This was not going to be easy. Nick hated that he, of all people, had noticed. Had no one else seen it?

It only took another day to push his discomfort aside. “It’s not about you,” he mumbled to himself in the mirror in the early morning. “Strange needs help.” And he was a doctor, first and foremost. And doctors helped people in need.

He wanted to speak with Strange outside the hospital, in a neutral place for them both. The only problem was that he never saw the man outside of work and he had no idea how to approach him.

The opportunity came a few days later when Nick was already performing surgery while on call. Another emergency craniotomy was required and Strange stepped in at Christine’s request while Nick was unavailable. It was as good a reason as any.

“Thank you for taking that patient yesterday,” he said in greeting the next morning.

Strange looked up from his computer, surprise crossing his features. He looked tired. “No surgeon can be in two surgeries at once,” he said with a shrug.

“Still, I appreciate it,” Nick said. “I know you’re not fond of the ER.”

“A butcher shop.”

He ignored the comment. “So I’d like to thank you. You free after work? Dinner’s on me.”

The other man stared at him. “You want to have dinner,” he said flatly.

“As colleagues,” he added, hopefully unnecessarily, because really? “I’m trying to be nice and show my appreciation, Strange. Don’t be an ass about it and just say yes.”

Strange lifted his brows high, but the fuel to his ego did the trick. “Yeah, sure. Got any place in mind?”

Nick shrugged. “There’s a good Italian place three blocks south of us.”

“Italian’s fine.”

“Cool. See you later.” He ignored the expression on Strange’s face and took his leave.

—————

The walk from the hospital to the restaurant was a bit of an uncomfortable one, but Nick wasn’t certain if it was mostly one-sided or not; Strange was more or less expressionless. He only tried to instigate conversation once throughout the walk, but it trailed off to silence before they reached the second block, so Nick decided then to save all attempts at conversation for dinner.

It was going to be hard enough then.

After they arrived and were seated, he also decided to wait until they had finished eating before approaching the topic. Maybe the food would relax the nerves in his gut.

So in the meantime he talked shop. It had been some time since either of them had discussed their cases with each other, so he figured that it was a safe enough conversation topic until the end of the meal.

Unfortunately Strange, bastard that he was, threw him off his planned course. It was just after they ordered food; both had a glass of wine and their waiter had already set down a basket of bread and a saucer of olive oil for dipping. Strange caught Nick as the latter was ripping off a piece of bread to smother in the dipping oil.

“What is this really about?” he asked.

Nick paused mid-dip. “What?”

“All this.” He waved an arm to gesture to the restaurant. “I’ve helped in the ER several times when your hands were full. What is this actually about?”

He set his bread on his plate, frowning. “You can’t wait until after we eat?”

Strange raised a brow. “Consider yourself fortunate I said yes to this at all. I only came because, admittedly, I’m curious; I cannot begin to guess what you could possibly want to talk to me about outside of work.”

“Fine, fine.” Nick sighed and set his elbows on the table. He pressed his lips against his closed fists as he figured out how to start. All the while, Strange stared at him with an odd mix of exasperation and puzzlement. “You…” he started slowly. He trailed off.

“Me,” said Strange.

Fuck it. “You’ve been off lately.”

His brows shot up. “Off?”

“Yeah, off. Not yourself. Different.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly that. You’re acting differently lately. For a while, apparently.”

He bristled in clear irritation. “If you’re just going to waste my time—”

“You don’t enjoy your work anymore.”

That shut him up. Nick continued in the silence. “You used to always enter and exit your operations with this excitement that echoed down the halls. That’s completely gone.”

Strange recovered his voice. “If you’re implying that my work has suffered—”

“No, no,” he interrupted. “Not at all. This isn’t about the quality of your work; this is about you.” Strange didn’t have an immediate retort to that, so Nick continued, “Or maybe it’s not about you but about this man that’s taken over you the last several months. That man is clearly not eating and sleeping well, barely comes out of his office, hasn’t bragged about his newest studies and speeches in months, and mutters about life not being worth living at lunchtime.”

His colleague’s mouth hung slightly open as if he wanted to say something but had forgotten how to speak. Nick couldn’t quite read the emotion in his eyes, either. Before he completely lost his nerve, he said one last observation. “And that man,” he muttered, “had his stomach pumped two months ago, and those circumstances combined with the rest paint a picture of a man who… might be a bit lost.”

Something raw flashed through Strange’s eyes that made him appear more vulnerable than Nick’s ever seen him before. That brought on a strange and discomforting feeling that joined the rest of the jumbled nerves in his stomach.

Quickly he continued, “You don’t need to tell me anything. I’m not demanding anything from you. I just wanted to say that— no matter what differences we have— that if you do need someone for— for anything— that I’m here. Even if it’s just to listen.”

He fell silent, and still Strange didn’t say anything immediately, which was unusual in itself. Nick wasn’t sure if he should continue looking at him or if he should look away, or what.

And thank God, dinner arrived and gave him the perfect reason to look away and leave Strange to his thoughts.

The silence sat for the remainder of the meal. Strange didn’t eat much (though he couldn’t blame him) but also didn’t leave. Nick didn’t know what that meant, or if it meant anything at all.

Still, he had one last thing to say.

After he paid the bill, he pulled a card from his wallet as he stood up. “She came with high recommendations,” he said as he put down the card of a therapist that most certainly did not work at Metro-General. “Think about it.” With that, he took his leave, allowing Strange time alone to dwell on what he said.

————

When they next saw each other at work, neither of them made any indication to each other that they had dinner last night. Their last conversation never crossed the threshold of the hospital. Strange never called him, and Nick never inquired about his well being more than he did any other coworker.

But a few months later, when he got word that Strange was starting his music challenge games in his operations once more, Nick allowed himself a small smile at the news.

[halldora]

The Hounds of House Scientia pt. 1 Storge

So yeah...thought I’d give it a go and develop this AU a little more. I’m so rusty I think parts broke off as I was typing away during my lunch hour. I thought about expanding the whole Segugio thing, making different castes came up with 3 but I’m probably going to abandon that... This is my first legit story with a reader insert, hope I didn’t butcher it. 

Cautiously you opened the door to the bedroom, eyes scanning for anything amiss. The governess had tasked you in finding her student who had seemingly vanished into thin air after their earlier lessons had broken for lunch. Stepping into the room you started to investigate further, dropping down onto your knees to search under the bed first. For any other child that place would have been an obvious choice but your quarry was not any other child.

From your spot you heard a rustle of heavy fabric and a stifled giggle. Standing up you glanced towards the window and spied the toes of tiny shoes sticking out from under the hem of the floor length curtains and the outline of a small body. A smile curled at your lips and you moved quietly towards the veiled figure. If they caught on that you knew the game would be over. You drew closer and you spied the little figure go stiff and shuffle back against the wall.

“You will need to hide better-” You started, voice full of mirth as you reached out to grab the curtain and pull it back. “If you want to avoid your schooling, Little Mister!”

Green eyes obscured by wisps of dirty blond hair peered up at you, brows knitted together and little lips pursed in a thin line. The six-year-old was the picture of frustration and yet still downright adorable. It made your heart melt. Ignis Scientia, first born son and heir to the Scientia name had been yours to protect since his birth. Stuck somewhere between nanny and bodyguard, you made sure his needs were met when his parents were out of the house. You gave him a stern look and knelt down to be eye to eye with your charge.

“Little Mister-” You started, tone firm as you hoped to convey the seriousness of the matter at hand. “Why are you avoiding your lessons?”

The boy looked down at his shoes, suddenly finding the carpet very interesting. “It’s sunny and I’d rather be outside playing.”

You had a hard time keeping the smile off your face as you drew yourself back up to full height. “Maybe if you had not escaped we could have worked something out with your governess.” You sighed, hands coming to rest on your hips. “But I’m sure she’ll add extra lessons to your nightly assignments as punishment now. Now come with me, you have kept her waiting long enough.” You offered a hand to him and smiled inwardly as he reluctantly reached up to grasp it, small fingers wrapping around your own.

Escorting him back to the library you delivered him safely back to his governess. “Be good, Little Mister.” You said with a smile and heading away. You still had to patrol the grounds and check in with the other guards before collecting the boy and making sure he was fed and bathed before bed. Usually his parents would be there to help him but they had been called away to the Citadel more and more often, leaving Ignis in the care of yourself and the other staff.

As you returned Ignis rushed from his governess, “(Y/N) (Y/N)!” He called excitedly, grabbing hold of your hands and hastily telling you about an interesting tidbit he had learned before sobering and muttering that he had needed to read two extra chapters as punishment for trying to skip afternoon lessons.

“Take this as a learning experience, Little Mister.” You started as you walked him down towards the dining room. “How do you expect to be as smart as your uncle if you skip your lessons? The King needs knowledgeable people by his side.”

“What if I don’t want to become an advisor?” He asked, making you stop short, boot tip skipping against the titled floor. Glancing down you saw him looking at you expectantly.

This wasn’t the first time this had been brought up and you had been told how to respond to the question. “We all have our duties.” You said softly, walking with him again. “Now promise not to give any of the kitchen staff grief.” The Little Mister had a precocious palate and he never thought twice about letting the chef know if he thought something was over-seasoned or not done the way he liked it. It was rather funny to see the old family chef grow flustered and red-faced that a mere child was questioning his techniques. His parents never encouraged the behavior but it was hilarious still.

As you helped him into his chair in the dining room, the boy grabbed at your forearm. “Can’t you have dinner with me, (Y/N)?”

You shook your head no and moved to push his chair in. “I’ll have dinner later.” Reaching out you lightly combed your fingers through his hair, brushing the unruly strands out of his eyes and smiled. “After you get to bed and I make sure everything is safe.” Truth was you were not permitted to dine with the main family. He didn’t know what you were exactly, only that you were his protector. He looked so disappointed that you leaned in and touched your forehead to the crown of his head. “It’s just for tonight, Little Mister. Tomorrow morning your mom and dad will be back from the Citadel.”

With that you excused yourself and started on your nightly check around the house. Nothing was a miss and you sighed a thankful prayer to the Six for that. You checked back in on Ignis and found him enjoying a little fruit tart for dessert. He held it up proudly, little cheeks puffed out and crumbs dotting his lips and face.

“And where have your manners gone?” You chastised trying your best to hide a laugh as you walked up to him and reached for the napkin that had remained on the table and started to gently wipe his face. “Just because your parents have left doesn’t mean you get to stop being the young man that you are. I think you managed to get more of your supper on your face than you did in you.”

Ignis playfully fought at your efforts to clean his face, little hands pushing at yours while laughing. He knew what came next and he was ready to fight for his freedom. You knew the dance well though and anticipated when his little body moved to push off the chair and was ready to scoop him up with a triumphant grin.

“You thought you had me this time, huh?” You asked, trying to adjust the wiggling little body against your own. “But I know you, Little Mister.”

He slowly started to settle down as he was carried down the hall, resigning to his fate of a dreaded bath. “(Y/N) why do you call me that?”

“I’ve told you a hundred times why,” You smiled, turning down the hall and heading up the grand staircase to the residence on the upper floor. “I call you Little Mister because wouldn’t it be confusing for there to be two Mister Scientia’s in the house at once?”Ignis’ father was the second son of the family, his older brother and royal advisor, holding the title of Lord. Only with no legitimate heirs of his own to claim the title from him, Ignis was named next in line of succession for the title. “I call you Little mister so everyone knows just who I’m talking to.” Your lips curled into a little grin and you cocked your head to he left as you looked down at him. “I think your father would be cross with me if he thought I was telling him to eat his vegetables. Don’t you think?”

A burst of giggles was his response and he nodded. “He would.”

Bath time was a struggle, it usually was and you felt there was more water on the floor and on you than remained in the tub but he was clean so it was a success! After bath time and another battle to get into his pajamas it was time for a little bit of play and then reading. You picked out a story together and settled down on the bed, Ignis nestled up to your side. You tried your best reading aloud the tales of brave heroes but you weren’t as good as his parents, you couldn’t do the funny voices like they did. And he let you know it too.

“Would you like me to stop?” You asked, eyebrow raised as you glanced down at the boy. His head was bobbing as he fought off sleep. “I think that is enough for tonight.” Closing the book you didn’t listen to Ignis’ mumbled protest for ‘just one more chapter’.

“You can listen to more tomorrow.” You said slipping off the bed and going to tuck Ignis in, bringing the blankets right up to his chin. “Goodnight, Little Mister.” You whispered before heading out of his room, closing the door behind you.

---

“You’re sending him where?” It was several days later, Mr. and Mrs. Scientia had returned from the Citadel with news that the King was requesting Ignis start his service as retainer to the crown prince. “He’s only six!”

His father gave a knowing nod, leaning back in his chair with a small sigh. “I know, but this has been the plan from the start. It’s just happening a little earlier-“

“Your are robbing him of his childhood!” You yelled, the words leaving your lips faster than you could stop them. “Service will be all he’s known!”

“You forget yourself, (Y/N).” His father started lowly, eyes cold. “I do not enjoy this any more than you do but this is what’s best.”

“Best for who?” You growled lowly, hands balling into fists at your sides. “The royals or your son?” You were overstepping your bounds you knew that but your job was to protect Ignis. This path that he was being lead down would rob him of any sense of self.

“What’s done is done.” He said, lowly. His tone leaving no room for discussion. “Ignis will be leaving at the end of the week and we will be moving to the Citadel full time to be closer to him. You and the other Segugios at the house will be reassigned. I can make a recommendation if there is somewhere particular you wish to go.”

Your hands were shaking and you tried to keep your anger in check. Mouth dry you started to speak, mind searching for the right words. “C-can I ask for one favor, Sir?”

His father looked a little confused at the request but nodded. “What is it?”

“May I say goodbye?” Your voice was soft and wavered a bit. You half expected him to say no, your station was that of servant. Instead he came up to you and set his hands on your shoulders.

“Of course, (Y/N). You have been amazing helping us with him these past few years. We could not have asked for better.” He smiled, squeezing your shoulders. “This change will be hard for everyone.”

You could only give a nod, not trusting your voice not to break. You were shocked when he continued on.

“I know we haven’t said it enough to you or the others, but thank you for all your hard work. We would be honored if you and the others joined us for dinner the day before we leave.”

Shock was not the right word to express what emotions you were feeling at that invitation. “Yes.” You manage to eek out. “Thank you.”

Letting you go, his father took a step back and nodded. “Please try and keep his day-to-day life as normal as possible. We’re trying to not make this transition as easy on him as possible.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat you nod and bow. “Yes, Sir.” Leaving his office you reached up to wipe at the tears that threatened to break free. You knew that this position wouldn’t last forever, that eventually the Little Mister would have to go and take his place at the Citadel but you never thought that it would be this soon. That such a large burden would be place on little shoulders.

You did your best to keep things as normal as you could, bringing him to his classes and watching him when his parents were busy with work. You might have been a little lax though, letting him climb the trees in the back garden and helping him hunt for bugs. At the end of this week his normal life was going to be over and you wanted him to have all the time to enjoy life that he could.

The night of the dinner finally arrived and you were surprised to see the children’s table had been brought out and set up in the corner. Ignis looked to be practically vibrating with excitement as he rushed to take your hand.

"Mom and Dad said that you get to sit with me tonight.” He said happily, leading you over to the table. “Just us!”

Nervously you glanced back at his parents and the three other Segugios that made up the family’s protective detail. His mother smiled and gave you a permissive nod. This would be your last night with the Little Mister…Ignis was ever the little gentleman, pulling out your chair and trying to push it back in (succeeding with a little help from you) before rushing around and going to sit across from you. Throughout dinner he enthusiastically talked about moving to the Citadel and how he was going to be helping Prince Noctis.

It was bittersweet, he knew you couldn’t come with him but he didn’t understand the reasons. You tried to explain that the Citadel was so well protected that there was no need for you. “I would just get in the way. But I do expect to still mind your manners. If you act up I will hear about. Just like the time you tried to steal cookies when you thought no one was watching you.”

“I promise.” He smiled.

After dinner you watched as his parents went to bring him upstairs and get him ready for bed while you went to do the last check of the night. Tomorrow would see the Little Mister go and a few days after that his parents would be moving. You had asked to go to Accordo and were being placed in a small flower shop in Altissa. From there you’d be reporting on Niflheim activity as part of the intelligence network.

“(Y/N)! ” A small voice called from behind you, causing you a bit of a start.

Turning you saw Ignis at the foot of the steps, looking at you with water little eyes. It must have hit him that tonight was the last time he’d see you. “Little Mister, you need to go back up to-“ Your scolding was cut off as he jumped off the last step and rushed to hug you, wet face pressing into your stomach.

“You didn’t say goodnight!” He sobbed, fingers grabbing at your sides as his small body shook. “You always tell me goodnight.”

“Apologies,” You whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around him. “Goodnight, my Little Mister.”

[radramblog]

N64 Collection

I got a cool new addition to this collection in today, so it’s as good a time as any to discuss the whole thing itself.

(excuse the quality. my phone is sick today, I guess.)

The Nintendo 64 is a console that’s older than I am, but has so many cool and excellent games that I’m happy to be a collector- even if said collection is relatively modest.

I picked up the Nintendo 64 last time I was in the USA. I’m not sure why, but I was browsing Amazon or something at my aunt’s or grandmas and we were there for long enough that what I thought was a great deal would able to be delivered in time, so I went for it. The initial library of games that came with it was extremely mid- mostly sports games, and most of those were racing- some good (Beetle Adventure Racing, Star Wars Podracer) and some…not (Lego Racers sucks and I won’t be convinced otherwise). I don’t know who the former owners, the Taylor family (according to some labels on some of the carts) are, but their taste in vidya is far from incredible. I do think not having many of the good shit ™ games is why I didn’t keep the progress going for a long time- that and lack of disposable income.

While procuring a new power supply (so that it wouldn’t explode if I plug it in to an AUS socket) wasn’t too difficult, getting games in Australia, Perth no less, is astonishingly difficult. Mostly because the N64 is region locked- three main regions exist, NTSC-JP, NTSC-US, and PAL- and I’m stuck in a world of PAL carts with an NTSC console. There really aren’t a lot of retro game shops in Perth- there’s a chain of two that’s overpriced (and sold me a borked GBA link cable so are dead to me), a few market stalls only open weekends, and the good one.

(I forgot I’d left those stickers on. It’s a flex, I guess?)

They’re the good one because they have someone who goes to Japan regularly, and often comes back with stock in both JP and US NTSC cartridges. They’re where I picked up the first two high-profile games- American Pokemon Stadium and Japanese Super Mario 64. For absolutely great prices, considering the market for them here would be pretty slim. I am the market, it’s me. COVID has, of course, put a heck of a limiter on their supply, but I’m welcoming the return of their restocking.

Of course, that’s a Japanese M64 cartridge, and I have an American console, so I can’t play it, right? Wrong! Truth is, the only “region lock” between NTSC-JP and NTSC-US is the shape of the cartridge and the cartridge slot. Therefore, once I got a specialised screwdriver in, I was able to run that sucker by replacing the back of the cartridge’s shell with that of a busted cart I had sitting about (fuckin Namco Museum, I just wanted to play Galaxian) It turns out tinkering around and actually cleaning a bunch of these carts made them work a lot better, which was a nice bonus. I found a local eBay listing for a Mario Party 3 cartridge that apparently didn’t work, bid 3 bucks on it on a whim, won it, found out it was US region somehow but also super fake and yep didn’t work, took it apart and saw the bizarro internals (there’s like, multiple structural pieces missing), gave it a clean and it decided to work anyway. Miracles do happen.

(So many supports.....)

However, I didn’t want to tinker around as much with this new arrival coming in, since I didn’t want to risk busting it somehow. Therefore, I opted to modify the cartridge slot instead. There are two ways to do this- either taking some sort of cutting implement to the slot itself to remove the tabs locking JP games out, or just 3D print yourself a new one that works for both. I opted for the latter, in case I end up reselling (and so I don’t risk fucking it up), and so had some cool guy help me get the new one sorted. It works like a charm, no complaints so far (aside from me fucking up the slot doors a lil bit but that should be an easy fix, once I have time,)

To stop beating around the bush, the new arrival is a rarity I couldn’t actually find much about online. It’s a Hong Kong region copy of The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. And while I’m happy enough to have any working copy of OoT, this one popped up from some eBay seller over east and left me kinda baffled. There’s very little information about it online- a few webpages and this youtube video helped a bit, but about all I knew was that it was apparently a JP region game released in Hong Kong using the US release’s ROM, because Hong Kong has a lot more English speakers than Japanese and they sure weren’t translating into Cantonese or Mandarin at the time. I seriously have no idea how much this thing is worth, but considering how bad Hong Kong got it with releases and how little is online about them, I can’t imagine they’re particularly common.

So that’s where we are now. My collection is far from perfect- and unfortunately, so is my knowledge on working the console. A lot of carts work only very inconsistently, and I’m not sure if that’s on their end or the console’s. Also, I’m pretty sure these games are supposed to look better than this- it might be the big TV they’re trying to upscale to? I’ve tried running it into my monitor through an HDMI converter, but that hasn’t produced any useful results.

There are a lot of other games I have my eye on, too. I could make a wishlist, I suppose. But that’s for another time. The N64 is one of two retro consoles I’m here for collecting at the moment, but I am likely to expand once my expendable income does the same.

[vankoya]

Work In Progress Tag.

I was tagged by my sweetest @dailydoseofdia so thank you very much, my honey! Now, I am going to explicitly expose all of my WIPs, some of which are not known about or displayed on my story schedule as I have no hecking clue in the slightest as to when I will finish writing all of them. Rest in peace, me. (I really went on a spree with the previews.)

I am going to tag: @tayegi / @versigny / @inktae / @trbld-writer!

The Devil Skates On Thin Ice | Twoshot, Part Two

→ Rivalry & Sports AU • Min Yoongi & Reader

Status: First priority. 6K words currently written. Twenty-five percent complete.

Preview: The number ’31’ is salient in large, bold white lettering at the centre of the hockey jersey. Though it is most certainly not as prominent as the ‘MIN’ that stands out inches above it, the three letters setting off screeching alarm bells within your mind that have you bolting upright on the mattress in a state of suffocating panic, cracking your elbow against the sill of the window in the process.

“Shit!” You yelp, cringing from the sharp pain that shoots up your arm, cradling it to your chest as you keel over your knees and dramatically collapse back onto the bed like the world just could not help but dig your hell hole of a situation all the deeper.

You are in Yoongi’s room. Of all the fucking people it could have been, it had to be him.

Amidst the anguish, a succession of thumping footsteps steadily becomes apparent as they grow louder, nearer, almost as though they are jogging. Then, the door is histrionically thrown open and a wide-eyed, flustered Yoongi comes into view within the frame, panting a little like he had ran from the other side of the apartment at the voicing of your distress. Honestly, you surprise yourself by holding back the lurching urge to hurl up the contents of last night at the sheer sight of him.

An Oath For Sinners | Series, Part Three

→ Vampire & Escort AU • Min Yoongi & Reader

Status: 10K words currently written. Fifty percent complete.

Preview: There are two and a half hours remaining until she is supposed to be knocking at his front door, and Yoongi is still holed up in his office, signing a stack of papers inked with paragraphs of information that he is barely processing due to the simple fact that he has caved to the torment of hardly restrained lechery. For all he knows, he could be signing his life over to the devil since the sole thought that he cannot tear his disgracefully crude attention from is what divine facial expression she is going to pull the moment his dick slides into her dripping cunt.

At that, his mind blanks completely, eyes glazing over and muddling the page before him into a blur of white smeared with black, the nib of the pen drooling an expanding spot of ink on the paper where he distractedly presses it. Shit. Yoongi’s lips part to create an airless sound, his imagination ravaging his sanity as he pieces together the image of her underneath him in completely nude glory, her warm, mundane skin glittering with a sheen of perspiration, wide eyes crazed with ferocious desire, the pupils blown like dark moons, always watching him. She looks excited, afraid, utterly ravishing. 

The Heart’s Variable | Oneshot

→ Hacker AU • Kim Taehyung & Reader

Status: 2K words currently written. Ten percent complete.

Preview: Roommates tend to walk in on a lot of shit that they would much rather have scrubbed from their field of vision by a wire sponge, but such visual torment is an unspoken given when it comes to share-housing. Most especially when one of the aforementioned roommates is the one and only Kim Taehyung. So when Park Jimin, a law student of baby soft features that no courtroom can ever take seriously because he somewhat appears like an irritated child when he is trying to defend his case, knocks on Taehyung’s bedroom door at ten in the morning and is given the sole response of dead silence, he, without thinking, twists the handle and thrusts it open with a determination to give the guy the grandest, loudest wake-up call possible. 

At least, that was Jimin’s plan until his gaze fell upon Taehyung slouched facedown over his keyboard, surrounding monitors dulled to sleep just as he is. Except, unlike him, the computer does not have its soft dick nestled on unadulterated display in its lap like a lifeless, pink sea cucumber, sweatpants uselessly shoved halfway down the defined curve of its ass.

A Ticket To The Sun | Series, Part Three

→ Dystopia AU • Min Yoongi & Reader

Status: 5.5K words currently written. Twenty percent complete.

Preview: The countdown is in full swing. Seventeen days until doom reaches his doorstep, until the truth will be revealed and Yoongi will be framed as a goddamn coward for never telling her from the very start. He deserves to die like that, at least, with shame stuffed in his pockets, with a knife of regret slicing through his back. Horrible, truly such a gruesome excuse of a human being, he is.

I could tell her right now, he blankly considers, but knows he never would. It is close to two in the morning, and she is swaying gently, making an order at the diner counter with a blurred smile, eyes glazed. I could tell her right now and make pancakes taste like my death, make vanilla cling like my blood to the back of her throat. I could do it, I could do it.

She, with wobbly grace, turns on her heel to face him. Her drooping gaze lands on the divot between his collarbones that kisses the collar of his navy shirt before it lazily trails up, up, up to meet his own eyes, a grin lighting up on her lips as if caught redhanded staring where she should not. The breathtaking culprit to their exceptional crime.

Yoongi could never do it. 

Paroxysm of Repulsion | Oneshot

→ Single Dad / Teacher AU • Jeon Jeongguk & Kim Taehyung

Status: Still drafting and plotting. 1.7K words currently written.

Preview: The guy of long honey limbs and deftly mussed hair wears an expression fit for murder, which would have been entirely convincing if he was not wearing the most repulsive sweater to ever have the misfortune of existing on this very earth. Traffic cone orange and fluorescent violet striped, like Halloween just threw up on his chest and this is the mouldy aftermath a week later. Jeongguk decides the guy deserved such an insult for wearing an atrocity to mankind.

“Uh,” he cannot even form a coherent sentence, it is that disgusting. 

“Uh?” The Serial Killer In The Ugliest Sweater To Exist offers brusquely, face unchanging. “That’s all you have to say? Uh?”

Jeongguk gulps. “Uh–“

“Is that the only word in your vocabulary?”

“Well–“

“Amazing! He knows more than one word!” He throws his hands enthusiastically in the air, slatted eyes still fresh with intent to kill. Before Jeongguk can stammer out another vocalisation of unintelligence forced by sheer repugnance, the guy accusingly jabs a finger at him. “Kids need to learn manners at an early stage in life if they want to grow up to be good adults. Get on that fuckin’ shit, man.”

Fight Blood With Blood | ATM Drabble

→ Witch Hunter AU • Jeon Jeongguk & Reader

Status: 3.8K words currently written. Eighty-five percent complete.

Preview: Jeongguk wants to ask more, wishes to pick apart her bones and search the marrow for the answers, more truths, to learn of the genuine honesty about herself and who she is. But whatever he wishes to say becomes lodged in his mouth when he watches her bring the blade to her palm and cut a clean slice through the flesh, crimson that looks like liquid black beneath the moonless sky instantly bubbling to the surface and spilling into the clear patch of dirt that the very same knife carved out.

The witch stays quiet and calm, dropping the now tarnished blade to the snow and dipping her fingertips into the sticky, red mess accumulating in her other palm. They come away dripping, soaked in the colour of her very own coat, and Jeongguk observes with his lips parted, shoulders rigid while she draws nonsensical script into the frozen surface of the dirt she has cleared. Witch language, looking twisted and evil, like it is going to reach out and bite him if he dares to look away.

Gateway to Gehenna | Oneshot

→ Witch / Demon AU • Kim Taehyung & Reader

Status: Still drafting and plotting. 2K words currently written. Ten percent complete.

Preview: For the first twenty years, the door is avoided at all costs. 

Nestled between the library and the living quarters, it is alike any other door within the cottage. A thick slab of mahogany lacquered in rich syrup that still holds its woodsy scent beyond decades since its construction, a brass handle which glints in the afternoon sunlight that manages to trickle down the hallway, much less worn or touched than any other knob. It finds its differences in the dense carvings that are inscribed on the surface, a variation of symbols and words as old as time itself, not even belonging to history, for the language has surpassed such limitations.

They start at the centre of the door and bloom in an enormous wooden rose, the petals fanning out to the very edges where the inscriptions become smaller, near frantic, as though the incantations were bordering incomplete yet the space was quick to be eaten up; desperation embedding urgency into the grain. Because if there was not enough room to finish, all efforts would have been entirely fruitless. The plan would be torn to shreds, the earth would be brought to ruin.

You see, it is not the door itself that is necessarily the problem. It merely keeps it contained. Instead, it is what is held within that should be feared.

Rather he who should not be released.

There’s A Rainbow (Always, After The Rain) | Oneshot

→ Soulmate AU • Jeon Jeongguk & Kim Taehyung

Status: 1.3K words currently written. Fifteen percent complete.

Preview: The barista, as if realising what he has just done, clamps a palm over his mouth, eyes still remaining to roundly stare at Jeongguk like he has just stripped naked in the middle of the cafe. On the other hand, Jeongguk is about ready to turn on his heel and flee, or fold his body like origami until he can fit into the linoleum cracks beneath his feet. Instead, by sheer force of will and his ferocious desire to have a double shot long mac after The Worst Day of His Existence, Jeongguk stands statuesque until the barista seems to get his shit together and drops his hand away from his face.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” the barista, who’s name tag reads Jimin babbles, baby cheeks flaring with muted fuchsia. “I-I didn’t mean to react that way, I swear! It’s just that– Holy shit, how long– When did it change like that?” The colour of his face ripens. “Oh– Or maybe, did you do that yourself–“

“Does it look like I would have done this–“ Jeongguk aggressively points at the rainbow monstrosity sprouting from his roots, biting down on his urge to scream the words, rather than hiss them under his breath– “To myself? Why the fuck?”

Lips of Divinity | Oneshot

→ Daitengu AU • Min Yoongi & Jeon Jeongguk

Status: Still drafting and plotting. 780 words currently written.

Preview: there is purpose behind this trek, not just a measly, careless adventure into the unknown of a forest deemed dangerous by the town at its feet. jeongguk absently wonders, if he were to trip over an unforeseen rock or jutted stick, whether the fall would have him tumbling down to the very base, crashing him back upon square one that he last stood upon just before midday.

but the boy should not think so soon, his eyesight is getting worse with every stretch that night begins to make across the daylight, almost as if it wishes to put his theory to the test.

he whistles a tune unheard of, one that bounds through the trees, echoing on and on. to set the pace of his tread, to fend off the eerie quiet that otherwise lulls the mountain. the birds are no longer near to pick it up, to carry on the sound in their own chirp, flourish it into something entirely different that belongs to them, and them only; started by a boy who never listens.

[balancoire]

Fandom: Tales of Vesperia, Tales of Phantasia

Estelle/Mint (in there somewhere), college au for @talesfemslashweek

Day Two: Passion

I’m sorry, I have a big thing for school aus of all kinds... I also saw this cute official art of Estelle and Mint and was inspired

Estelle realizes she's been at the library for entirely too long when she finds herself face-down in her world history textbook -- despite the three cups of coffee she's had in the last few hours.  

She pushes herself back up and checks her phone: it's 9:33 at night. Her extreme study session began around ten that morning.  

Estelle rubs her eyes and looks down at the books surrounding her. She needs sleep – real sleep, in a real bed, with her favorite pajamas and a big comforter – desperately. Her brain feels like mush and the first round of finals starts in the morning.

She pushes the world history book aside and grabs the flash cards she's been working on all week. I'll leave when I've gone through these one more time, she thinks, taking another sip from the styrofoam cup next to her. It's mostly empty and the last few drops of coffee are cool.

"Excuse me."

Estelle drops the cup. It's a good thing there's nothing left, because it hits the carpeted floor and rolls away.

"Oops! I'm so sorry." The blonde woman standing beside her bends down and picks it up. "I just wanted to check on you. You've been here a long time."

Estelle looks up from her cards and blushes furiously.  

The student library aide that she's been crushing on since her freshman year is standing over her, smiling gently, holding the empty coffee cup in one hand and a brown take-out box in the other.

"It's okay," Estelle says. God, she hopes her face isn't as red as she thinks it is. She looks down again, focuses on her notes instead of the woman next to her.  

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting you," the woman continues, undaunted, "but I saw you've been studying since my shift began this morning and you're still here, so..."

She trails off with a sheepish grin and holds up the box. "I picked this up for you when I finished work."

Estelle's speechless. She wants to say something – needs to, so she doesn't make a fool of herself in front of the one person she's been dying to speak with but could never find a good excuse to – but she can't get her mouth to open, can't get the words to come out.  

The woman's smile falters, just a bit. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No!" Estelle says – a little too quickly, because the woman jumps a little. "I mean, no, please, you're not interrupting me! I need a break. I just passed out on my textbooks."

The woman giggles and sits down across from her. She places the box on the table and starts to open it. Estelle could cry with joy – it's full of chocolate chip cookies, still warm and gooey from the oven.

"You're the best," Estelle says, helping herself. The first bite is heaven.  

"Not exactly health food, but it helps me," the woman says. "How goes the studying? Which test do you have tomorrow?"

"It's...going. I have world history and bio in the morning."

"I only have one final tomorrow. I guess I lucked out."

Estelle starts to take another bite of her cookie – and stops herself. "I'm so sorry, I'm being rude. My name's Estelle. Thank you so much for bringing me a snack."

"I'm Mint. And it's no problem. I see you here a lot, and you were looking pretty tired, so..."

Oh, no, Estelle thinks. Did Mint notice her watching from afar? Or that Estelle sometimes hung around the front desk a little longer than necessary, trying to work up the courage to speak with her but never quite getting there?

"What major are you?" Mint asks, head tilted gently to the side. This close, Estelle finally notices how brilliantly blue her eyes are.  

"Undecided," Estelle says after a moment's pause. "There's so much I'm interested in. I love world history, and botany, and I'm taking an anthropology class right now that I'm REALLY enjoying... But I haven't picked anything out just yet."

"Don't rush it. Find what you're passionate about."

"What are you passionate about? I mean, um... What's your major?"

"Nursing," Mint says. She takes one of the cookies and breaks it in half before she continues. "I know it sounds cliché, but I want to help people. My mother was a nurse too, so I know it's right for me. She worked at a small community clinic, so we got to know the patients really well. I loved going with her – it was a wonderful experience. I'd love to open it up again someday."

Estelle cradles her chin in her hands and smiles. Mint's expression comes alive while she talks about her mother's clinic – she can see it in the gentle flush of her cheeks, in the way she starts to gesture with her hands.  

"That sounds amazing," Estelle says. "Is it closed now?"

The light in Mint's eyes dies. Estelle wants to take her words back and say something else – something that will make her excited again.

"My mother passed away a few years ago," Mint says, her gaze downcast now. "We couldn't afford to keep the clinic open anymore. But I'll get it up and running again."

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have-'"

"It's fine. Please don't worry about it," she says. Mint finishes her cookie and starts to stand again. "I've kept you from your studying for too long anyway – I'll let you be."

"Please don't!"

Estelle almost claps her hands over her mouth. Mint raises an eyebrow, but she doesn't seem unhappy – just confused.

"I mean, please don't go yet. I really need to take a break from all of this," Estelle says, gesturing at the piles of books and papers around her. "And I..."

She hesitates. Takes a deep breath. Now or nothing.

"I've been wanting to talk to you for a while now." The words come out too fast. "I mean, I always see you here too, and I thought... You look like you're fun to talk to, but I just wasn't sure how to introduce myself without seeming, you know, weird or creepy. Is this too weird? I'm sorry."

Estelle looks up, half expecting Mint to already be halfway across the library. But the woman is still sitting across from her, giggling, her smile hidden behind her hand.  

She's unbearably cute.

"I'm sorry," Estelle says again, hunching down in her seat.  

"Don't be. I've been wanting to meet you too," Mint says. "My shift is done for the night, but the library's closing up soon. I know it's dark, but do you want to take a walk with me? I'm sure you could use the fresh air. You'll feel better once you've stretched your legs."

Estelle feels something warm in her chest, like a butterfly expanding its wings. She quickly gathers up her books.

"I would love to."

[gratitudejoyandsorrow]

Of Loyalty and Duty

Prompt: In an effort to save two kingdoms, an arranged marriage was made. At his request, Prince Lin-Manuel Miranda was to be wed to you, the youngest daughter in your royal family. RoyalAU. Written for the hamwriters write-a-thon Day 1.

Pairing: Lin x reader

Words: a whopping 5,803.

A/N: Hate me if it’s too AU, it’s okay. I was nervous as hell to post this, but thanks for several special people (you know who you are) I continued and went along with the idea. I didn’t realize it would turn into this monster. I had too much fun writing this and I WILL continue it after the write-a-thon. I didn’t send this to my beta to proofread because I’m stupid and I get too excited to share my work, especially when I feel really proud of it. Cheers to @hamwriters for setting this whole thing up, letting me explore the limits to my writing, and bringing the community together as a whole. I will try my best to finish out the week without my brain exploding. As always, let me know what you guys think. <3 Lola

You blinked back the tears that threatened to fall as you surveyed the scenery outside the carriage. You had to admit that it was beautiful -  you’d never seen the leaves in such various colors nor fields of farms that expanded beyond the horizon. While the Miranda kingdom focused on agriculture, industry was predominant in your kingdom so the view was unfamiliar to you.

You angrily swiped at the tears that escaped your treacherous eyes. In less than two weeks, you were going to be ripped away from the place that you’d called home. The population of the Miranda kingdom was increasing exponentially and they lacked the technology to produce enough food for their people. Your parents, despite their indifference to the Miranda’s, offered them an accord: in exchange for the industrial secrets that would help them prosper, the Miranda kingdom must give them military aid if the hostile empire from the North decided to attack. The treaty took days to settle, but in the end an agreement was made.

However, there was one caveat: Prince Lin-Manuel Miranda was to be wed to you.

Your hands balled into fists at the thought of the Prince. You’d met him on several occasions, but your most recent encounter with him was forever burned into your memory. You attended a wedding with your two older sisters at a neighboring kingdom and the celebration feast was just as glamorous and lavish as the ceremony. Prince Lin-Manuel was the life of the party, batting his long lashes while he flirted and danced with the women on the ballroom floor. When he came to greet you, you felt woozy, having consumed endless glasses of wine, and he managed to convince you to dance. He twirled and chatted you up the rest of the night, shooing away others who wanted a chance with him. Before you knew it, he was tugging you along the corridors of the castle, hands fumbling against the corset of your dress and his lips hungrily kissing yours.

Heat crept up your neck, still vividly remembering when another guest stumbled upon the two of you. You were mortified – you were a good girl, you didn’t do those types of things, especially with a playboy like him – and promptly shoved him to the ground. He lets out a shout of surprise and you turned and ran back to the ballroom, begging your sisters to leave with you.

When your parents broke the news of the treaty to you, you were furious. How dare they choose who you married?! You wanted to marry a man that you loved, not some fool who chased after women like it was his profession. You became even more angry when they told you that he gave his parents an ultimatum, demanding that he was to be married to you and not either of your sisters. You were convinced that he only did that to infuriate and toy with you, a payback of sorts from that night.

The carriage slowed, pulling you out of your thoughts. You craned your neck out the window, staring as the gates to the castle swung open, allowing your carriage to enter.

“All I’m asking of you is to be on your best behavior tonight,” you father murmured across from you, “It would be beneficial to you if you treat them kindly, considering that you’ll be living with them from now on.”

Your mother, who sat next to him, reached over and placed her hand over your clenched fists. “I know this isn’t the most ideal situation for you, but please, think of the future of our kingdom. We would be doomed if it wasn’t for you.”

You stayed silent. You had fought a long and futile battle with your parents about the arrangement. As the youngest of three, you were less involved with politics and lived life as freely as you liked within the castle. Your eldest sister had the daunting duty of leading the people of the kingdom, a position that you were not jealous of. But now that you were to be wed to a future King, your dreams of being free from the responsibilities that came with royalty were shattered.

But your parents were right.

Your people would die if you chose to refuse the engagement. The military was too small and would be outnumbered and overpowered if the North attacked. You needed the help from the Miranda’s.

You took a deep breath. “I will try my best.”

 You trailed behind the servant that guided you and your parents through the endless corridors to the dining hall, stomach churning. Your parents’ advice was plaguing your thoughts, the weight of their words making your feet feel heavy. You were too distracted to notice that you’d arrived at the entrance to the dining hall until you hear the call of the herald announce your presence.

Behind the curtain of your parents, you saw him.

Prince Lin-Manuel was slouched against his seat with his legs crossed, his crown sitting crookedly on top of his head, a wicked smile on his lips.

You wanted to punch his pretty little mouth to wipe away his arrogant look.

A soft pinch to your side jolted you back to reality, and you realized that his Majesty and the Queen were looking at you expectantly. As you curtsied in greeting, you see Prince Lin-Manuel rise from his seat. “Thank you for your extending your hospitality to my Father and Mother,” you said, hoping they did not hear the quiver in your voice.

“Nonsense,” King Miranda answered, lips lifting up in a smile, “it is only right that they have the best accommodations until the wedding.”

“And your sisters? When are they expected to arrive?” Queen Miranda asked, her soft voice a stark contrast to her sharp features.

“The last I’ve seen of them were their backsides a month ago,” Prince Lin-Manuel interrupted, pausing to make sure he’d gotten your attention, “leaving King and Queen George’s wedding celebration with my Princess in tow.”

You wanted to wrap your hands around his neck, throttle him until his skin turned blue…

“Well now your Princess is back in your arms, my son,” your Father laughed, clapping Prince Lin-Manuel’s back as he shook his hand.

You knew that your parents loved you, your doting Father especially, but at that very moment, his words made you feel hollow. You felt like a commodity, a worthless thing that was simply sold and traded for something much more precious. You may be his flesh and blood, but your Father’s loyalty was to his nation. He was willing to do anything and everything to save it.

“At least try to contain your delight, Princess,” Prince Lin-Manuel crooned, noticing your silence. He reached for your hand and pressed a gentle kiss against your skin, maintaining eye-contact all the while.

Your arms hung against your sides, limp. “I feel ill,” you muttered, eyes lowered to the ground.

You feel the piercing gaze of your mother upon your frame, yet you refused to meet her eyes. You didn’t want to be here anymore. You wanted your bed, your myriad of pillows, your sisters, and your favorite meal from the cook back at the castle. You wanted to be back at home.

“The journey here must have taken its toll on you,” Prince Lin-Manuel said, “if you’d excuse us, I’d like to show my bride-to-be to her room so she can get some rest.”

Four pairs of eyes landed on the two you.

“How kind of you,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes.

He held his arm out for you to take, unbothered by his Father’s lack of response. Your urge to leave the room outweighed your distaste of the Prince, so you eagerly took his arm. He grinned, leading you out of the hall and back into the maze of corridors.

“Through these doors are the library,” he said, pointing to a large wooden door with intricate designs carved on the surface. He led you to further down the hall, stopping right next to another door that was much smaller than the last.

“Believe it or not, there is another door behind this door. My Mother believes that it helps insulate sound,” He leaned forward, lips barely brushing against your ear, “but it doesn’t. I checked. Thoroughly.”

“Get off me, you swine,” you snarled, jerking away from him.

“I was merely speaking about my instruments, your highness,” he grinned, “I have a habit of playing piano at odd hours of the night. My Mother, the light sleeper that she is, would wake at a single key being played.”

You crossed your arms and huffed. “Would the next stop be my room, by chance? As lovely as this tour has been, I would like to see my bed, Prince Lin-Manuel.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Prince Lin? Though I suppose given the circumstances, Lin would be more appropriate,” he said, taking your arm and looping it back around his. He left his hand resting on your arm, applying a firm pressure to ensure you wouldn’t try and escape him again.

You dug your nails into his arm as hard as you could, but he continued, unfazed.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked once you realize that the two of you were making your way towards the open fields surrounding the outskirts of the castle.

“To end my lovely tour,” he said, using your own words, “I thought I’d show you something very dear to my heart.”

You eyed him quizzically when he stopped in the middle of a field. Was it his harem? A line of courtesans that heeded his every beck and call?

He lets out a sharp whistle, raising his index finger to tell you to wait when you looked at him incredulously. He whistled again, the loud sound ringing in the open air.

You open your mouth, ready to reprimand him for wasting your time when you heard it: the steady thump of something hitting the ground. It was approaching the two of you at a speed that was too fast for a human being.

You shrieked, the sound so un-lady like that would surely make your instructors cringe, when a grey and white ball of fur lunged for your legs. Something wet brushed against your ankles and out of instinct, you reeled backward. You almost lost your balance, but luckily, Prince Lin-Manuel was quick to react, his hands reaching for the middle of your back to help steady you.

“Tobi, you old dog,” he laughed, crouching down to restrain it from springing towards you again.

You looked down at the mutt in terror, it’s red eyes looking up at you eagerly as it struggled against Prince Lin-Manuel’s hold. “What is that – that – ”

“It’s my dog, Tobi,” he answered, reaching into the pockets of his pants to pull out what you assumed was a treat. He lets it hover over Tobi’s face (you let out a sigh of relief when it’s gaze shifted to it) and ordered it to sit.

“She’s been my companion since I was a child,” he explained, tossing the treat to her once she obeyed, “I stumbled across her when we were visiting one of the impoverished villages. The poor thing was riddled with fleas. It took me weeks to cure her.”

You took an involuntary step back when she moved and the astute Prince Lin-Manuel was quick to notice.

“Are you afraid of dogs, your highness?” he asked, chuckling.

You watched Tobi with wary eyes as you moved around to hide behind Prince Lin-Manuel. “I’m afraid that this phobia of mine is a new discovery for me as well,” you confessed, “My family has never owned a dog.”

“Tobi can be a bit of a handful at first,” he hummed, stroking behind her ear, “but I’m sure that you’ll learn to love her. You’d have no choice nonetheless, seeing as you’ll be here for a very long time.”

His statement resonated with you, causing your stomach to twist uneasily. You were going to be here for a very long time. “I’d like to rest now,” you said softly.

Prince Lin-Manuel lets out a sigh, quietly whispering orders to the whimpering Tobi. “Come, I’ll show you to your quarters.”

This time he lets you walk behind him, the silence deafening as you follow him, leaving the still whimpering Tobi behind. He led you up the grand staircase and to the entrance your room. “Your things are inside,” he said, prepared to leave you be. “Welcome to my kingdom, Princess Y/N. Sleep well.”

The second you closed the door to your room, you flung yourself on the bed and mourned your life that you knew would never be the same.

 Your second day was even more eventful that the last.

You tossed and turned in your sleep. True to Prince Lin-Manuel’s word, the sound of the piano could be clearly heard through over the two doors that protected it. Though perhaps the sound of the lullabies by Beethoven and Chopin would be soothing to others, it was a constant reminder that you were not within the walls of your home. Even before your new retainer entered your room to introduce herself the next morning, you were already yawning from the lack of sleep.

Not having enough time for pleasantries, she quickly drew a bath and helped you into your day dress, the cream color accentuating the color of your skin. She tried her best to conceal the bags under your eyes, but it was fruitless. Deciding not to waste any more time, she ushered you towards the dining hall, where the court, your parents, King and Queen Miranda, and Prince Lin-Manuel were awaiting your arrival.

“I apologize for my tardiness,” you said, curtsying before settling down your seat next to your mother, directly across from the Prince.

As breakfast progressed, you were introduced to the courts one by one. The elder’s eyed you carefully, and you fought the urge to squirm in your seat from their judging gazes. They had been cautious with the treaty from the very beginning, especially since you were the youngest in your family and seen as unfit to rule. But King Miranda had the final say. They asked you questions about policy-making, networking with foreign diplomats, and even plans for an heir in the future. You answered their prodding questions as concisely as you could, despite a headache forming at the base of your skull.

They warned you and the Prince that the public was unaware of the details of the treaty, believing instead that by the stroke of luck, the two of you had fallen in love. The talk of a possible war along with the concern of famine would cause riots to spread across the country. The courts wanted the two of you to parade through the nation before and after the wedding, spreading love and calming the worries of the people.

You barely had enough time to breathe before you were ushered into a different room, an office of sorts, where a line of men and women interrogated you about the details of the wedding. Your Mother and Queen Miranda were beside you, ogling and quarreling over two fabrics that were similar of color that would be made as the tablecloth for the celebration.

“I think the silk is lovely,” your Mother proposed, “the material is soft and elegant.”

Queen Miranda hummed her disagreement. “But the Taffeta’s Egyptian Blue color is that of the Miranda household – a fitting color for the festival.”

You stared the at the different fabrics, not seeing a difference between them.You were caged up in the room for what felt like an eternity, choosing colors, fabrics, and flowers for your wedding. Much to your distress and grief, it was not how you pictured your wedding planning to be. You wanted your groom, a groom that you loved, to be beside you. You wanted his help, to perhaps bicker about the difference between cotton and silk (where he would concede to you), and most of all, to feel the excitement for the big day. Instead, the feelings of fear and dread were consuming you.

“Princess?”

“Perhaps you could craft a silk tablecloth with this hue?” you suggested to the couturier.

“Your wish is my command, your highness” he answered, bowing in his seat.

You let out a deep sigh of relief when you saw the women beside you relax. Despite the civility between them, you felt uncomfortable with their bickering. “May I suggest a break? I would like a breath of fresh air.”

Queen Miranda smiles. “What a splendid idea. It is time for afternoon tea.”

You inwardly groaned, wanting to retire to the peace and quiet of your dormitory. “That sounds splendid,” you replied, smiling through your lie.

Afternoon tea was quite an affair. A table was prepared in the middle of an enclosed garden, the tray full of sweets and pastries calling your name. Over the course of the break, the Queen insisted you and your Mother tell her stories of home and family. It did not calm your longing for home. It fact, it made it even stronger.

A meandering Tobi found his way to the table, and much to your relief, the Queen halted all talk to pet the dog. Tobi then proceeded to sniff your Mother’s dress curiously, and then as if noticing your presence for the first time, bolted for you. You drew in a sharp breath, clutching the cup of tea tightly in your hand as you willed yourself to remain poised. You discreetly jerked back your leg when her nose brushed against your ankle, and let out a nervous laugh.

Tobi drew back, looking up at you expectantly, wagging her tail back and forth as she panted.

“She must think highly of you,” the Queen commented, laughing slightly.

You gave her a tight smile, and not wanting to transgress her, you quickly patted Tobi atop her head. She visibly beamed and then plopped down by your feet, and you inwardly wince when you felt the material of your dress begin to moisten from her slobber.  But perhaps Tobi’s interruption was a blessing, for the Queen began her stories of Prince Lin-Manuel’s adventures with the dog.

Good girl, you thought cheerfully, perhaps you aren’t so terrible after all.

 It was in the middle of choosing the design for the cutlery with your Mother and the Queen that you realized you hadn’t seen any of the royal men since breakfast. As a matter of fact, you had yet to speak with Prince Lin-Manuel since the night before.

Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Prince Lin-Manuel peered inside the office, grinning. “Care if I steal my Princess from under your noses?”

Your mothers share a look before approving.

He strolled into the office, giving you a chance to study him. He was pleasing to the eyes, that was for sure. His tan coat paired nicely with his cream vest and white undershirt, and with his hair pulled back away from his face, he looked quite regal.

“Well?” he prodded, offering his arm to you.  

How was it that every time you needed rescuing, he was there? Choosing not to linger on the thought, you wound your arm around his and let him escort you out of the room.

“You look tired, your highness,” he hummed as you strolled through the castle.

“I had a restless night,” you answered truthfully, “It seems that I have yet to adjust to your home.”

“How appropriate. My plan for today was to show you the rest of my kingdom,” Prince Lin-Manuel said, smirking, as he leads you to the familiar clearing from the night before.

“I’ve already seen the garden. It is much more beautiful than any that we have at home,” you said, confused, once he started to tug you further towards the wooded area of the clearing, “when I have the chance, I will request the Queen to accompany me and… Where are you going?”

You trailed off when he released you and dashed through a wall of shrubs. When didn’t to return, you panicked and followed after him. “Prince Lin-Manuel,” you gasped when you saw him push against a metal gate on a section of the brick wall that bordered the castle, “what are you doing?”

He cursed under his breath and moved to another gate. “I seem to always forget which one of these is the exact one,” he muttered, pushing against the railings. He shook his head in disapproval and then shifted his attention to the adjacent gate.

You watched, stunned when he lets out a yell of triumph as the metal gate swung open.

“Why do I have the feeling that you’ve done this before, Prince Lin-Manuel?” you regarded him warily when he turned and beckoned you to come closer.

The wicked smile was back on his face. “Because I have done this before.”

“I am not risking the chance of leaving the estate, Prince-Lin Manuel. If we get caught, my Father would be furious. I see no point in this idea at all.” You crossed your arms across your chest, staying rooted to your spot.

He gave you a long look before replying. “I know that you’ve done nothing today but plan for our wedding, Princess Y/N. I thought escaping from the confines of my over-bearing Mother would be a nice change. It will be brief. You have nothing to worry about, I will keep you safe. I give you my word.”

For the first time since you’d met him, he truly looked like the twenty-three-year-old Prince that was groomed to be the future King of his nation. His sincerity astounded you and he was right; you were tired of the non-stop decisions for the wedding. A short break wouldn’t hurt. Plus, you couldn’t ignore the zing of excitement that came with your opportunity to explore the land outside the castle walls.

“Alright, but just for a moment,” you said, brushing past him, “and if I decide that I want to return, we must do so. Immediately.”

He chuckled, jogging forward to keep the metal gate open for you, and bowed in agreement. “As you wish, my Princess.”

The two of you walked side by side and you listened enthusiastically to him as he pointed out flowers and insects you’d never seen before. “You’re afraid of my dog, but not a bug, your highness?” he joked when you stood on your toes to watch as a spider skitter up a tree. When the sound of rushing water caught your attention, he gladly led you to the source, laughing when you ran forward to touch the water in the creek.

“Your Father was right,” Prince Lin-Manuel mused, “you are a free-spirited soul.”

You turned to face him, wiping your wet hand on your dress. “You’ve spoken about me with him?”

“He said that you were always the odd one. Too outspoken, too brave, too daring to be a Princess.”

“He’s never told me that before,” you said softly at the revelation.

“Your Father regrets that he’s forced you upon this arrangement. But as King…” he trailed off and looked away.

“It is his duty to protect his people,” you finished. The mantra had been instilled when you were young.

Prince Lin-Manuel sighed. “Yes, you are correct. You may not understand his actions now, but when we marry, we will both reign over our land. As King and Queen, we have to ensure our people are happy and prosperous.”

You turned somber at the thought of the wedding. “I’d like to go back now,” you whisper.

Another sigh came from the Prince. “Then let us head back,” he said, “I’m sure the palace is being combed by the servants in search of our presence.”

You nodded, silent as you followed him.

When you arrived at the castle grounds, he touched your arm for your attention. “Thank you for letting me kidnap you,” he said, giving you a kind smile, “However, I won’t promise you that it’ll never happen again.”

You scoffed. “I’d be disappointed if it didn’t, Prince Lin-Manuel.”

“Haven’t I told you to call me Lin?” he teases, batting his long lashes at you.

You crossed your arms, an action that you realized was reserved only for him, “I will not. I’d rather call you Prince Lin over that.”

“Well, it’s settled. From now on, you may call me Prince Lin.” he grinned.

He didn’t give you a chance to argue, nor did you have time to. The minute you stepped back to the clearing, your retainer spotted you and ushered you back to your chambers to help you prepare for dinner.

“If I may speak freely, your highness,” she whispered as she gathered your long hair into her hands.

You looked at her in the mirror. “Yes, you may.”

“I am happy to see that you and the Prince are very much in love,” she giggled, “There were rumors that the marriage was a pretense for a military treaty. But seeing the Prince look so fondly at you, my worries have vanished. I wish you and the Prince a very long and joyful marriage.”

You stayed silent, feeling numb.

The talk of a possible war along with the concern of famine would cause riots to spread across the country.

As King and Queen, we have to ensure our people are happy and prosperous.

“Thank you.”

 Every day for the rest of the week, Prince Lin stayed true to his promise, finding ways to sneak you away from your responsibilities. Whether it was well before sunrise, during the middle of the day when you were planning for the wedding, or at night – your favorite time since discovering your love of watching the stars you couldn’t normally see at home sparkle – he found a way to convince the people in the room to let you leave with him.

He played the piano for you, sang songs he composed, shared the books he loved to read, and even walked you through the garden, patiently answering your endless questions about the flowers you’d spotted during your first visit. You had even become accustomed to Tobi’s strange adoration for you. She’d come along your adventures outside of the castle, striding along your side, ignoring Prince Lin’s complaints of her being a traitor. She’d bring you trinkets to declare her love in the form of dead insects and animals… Though perhaps you still needed time to adjust to that habit.

The wedding was still a sensitive subject, but he learned to avoid it and if necessary, talk around it. It was strange seeing Prince Lin in this new light. He still had his flirtatious tendencies, something you were still cautious of, but you couldn’t deny his charm.

Today, there was a buzz in the air, the excitement for your sisters’ arrival adding extra life within the castle walls. A banquet was prepared and neighboring kingdoms were invited to celebrate the arrival of your family and the upcoming wedding.

You paced in front of the grand staircase, impatient. Your parents, along with Prince Lin’s, were at the castle’s gates, waiting for their carriage.

Prince Lin, who was dressed in his royal garbs, watched you pace from his seat on the staircase. “Relax, your highness. They’re expected to arrive soon,” he yawned, rubbing his tired eyes.

You glanced at him, noticing that the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent over the past few days. “Is something troubling you, Prince Lin?” you asked, stopping to give him a closer look.

His lips curved up in a sly smile. “The court has been upset with me as of late. Though it is nothing that I can’t handle. Are you worried about me, my Princess?”

You harrumphed and turned your back to him, crossing your arms across your chest. “You wish.”

He didn’t have a chance for a rebuttal because the doors to the castle opened, revealing your sisters in all their glory, your parents and the King and Queen following close behind.

You let out a girlish scream, running towards them as fast as your royal gown could let you. They meet you halfway, echoing your screams, and you couldn’t help but sob when both of their arms wrapped around you in an embrace. “I’ve missed you both.”

“Oh my darling sister,” your oldest sister, Margaret, cooed, placing a kiss on top of your head, “we missed you too.”

Victoria pinched your cheek adoringly. “The castle has never felt so empty as it does without your presence.”

You sniffed, wiping away your tears. “I miss home.”

Margaret smiled and took your hand. “Yes, and because of your act of courage, we will still have a place to call home for the rest of eternity.”

Your sister, the future Queen, was always the wise one. From her looks to her demeanor, she was a replica of your Father. She was always poised, calm, and collected, and obedient to the obligations of a leader. Her altruism continuously amazed you.

Victoria took your other hand gently. “Shall you formally introduce us to your future husband?”

You nodded, and the ever enchanting Prince greeted them with a bright smile. He kissed their hands and showered with them with compliments, melting away their initial distrust and suspicion.

You scowled at him over their shoulders when he made them both giggle. Your frown deepened when he offered them his arms, leaving you behind for the dining hall where the guests awaited their arrival.

King Miranda, who stood beside you, placed a hand on your elbow, shaking you out of your thoughts.

“Come, Princess Y/N. It’s time to properly announce the union of our nations. Remember to play the part of the loving wife.”

You swallowed thickly and nodded before following him on unsteady legs.

 After the introductions, toasts, and feast, the tables were cleared and the celebration officially began. Music filled the air, their alluring sounds inviting couples to dance on the ballroom floor, and luckily Prince Lin was whisked away by his Mother.

You’d spent most of the night by his side, welcoming and thanking guests for celebrating the occasion. Your cheeks hurt from the forced smiles and laughter, accepting the advice from women you’d never met about marriage, and making sure that you looked and acted like a love-sick fool around the Prince. While it was effortless for him to have his arms around you, to cup your cheek, and playfully toy with your hair, you had a hard time to naturally accept the acts of endearment. You let out a sigh of relief, thankful for the break.

You sat at the table, watching as women with beautiful dresses twirled around the ballroom floor, their movements in-sync with the music. Your break was short-lived when a man slides into the empty seat beside you.

“Evening, Princess Y/N.”

You recognized him as a member of the court. “Good evening.”

“Your sister and the Prince make a striking pair, no?” he hummed.

You followed his line of sight, feeling a pinch in the middle of your chest when you saw your laughing sister dancing with Prince Lin. Everyone within arms distance paled in comparison to the two. “I suppose,” you agreed.

“Your sister carries herself well,” he added, “she will make a fine Queen when the time comes.”

“Yes, I agree whole-heartedly,” you said honestly.

“So why did our Prince decide on you? Why was he so adamant that he that he be wed to you and not Princess Margaret nor Princess Victoria? You’re nothing compared to them. You’re brash and foolish. Would the future of our kingdom be really secure with an eighteen-year-old child by our King’s side?”

You stood, trembling as you fought back the tears from his insults. “Thank you for your kind words, dear advisor,” you seethed, “not only do you have the power of belittling others, but do you have the ability to read minds as well? I find that I ask myself that question every day. Why me? I do not want this marriage. I want to be home. I want a normal life, then perhaps marry a man that I do love.”

Furious, you spun on your heel, and headed towards the exit. Through your hazy mind and clouded vision, you spotted a door that led to a balcony. You gulped in the fresh air and kicked the barrier of the balcony, trying to calm yourself.

“What’s wrong, Princess? I saw you run out of the room,” Prince Lin stopped when he notices your tears. “You’re crying.”

You wiped away your tears that ran down your cheeks and remained silent.

“Are they tears of joy? Have you finally appreciated my good looks, charm, and wit, that you’ve fallen for me and realize how lucky you are to have me?”

You clenched your fists in anger. “Be serious for once, Prince Lin-Manuel.”

The playful expression on his face disappeared when you said his name. “Be serious?” he echoed.

“Why me? I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be married to you.”

“You want me to be serious? My people are dying from starvation. Do you think I wanted this too? That I wanted to get married to a little girl that just cares about prancing around in dresses and whines when she doesn’t get her way? The last thing I wanted to do is to get married, but it is my duty as the future King to ensure that my people survive.”

Your mouth dropped open in shock at his words.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to make the best of this marriage, but every single time I get close to you, you push me away. I know you’re not that kind of girl,” he sighed, “The court has been pestering me more than usual as of late and I haven’t had much sleep because of it. I’m not thinking clearly.”

“No, you’re right. I am a stupid little girl that knows nothing about ruling. You should marry my sister, Margaret instead. You’d be perfect for each other.”

You pushed his hands away when he reached for you. You ran to your room, not caring if it was rude to leave the guests without a proper goodbye.

You laid in bed and wept.

For the first time in a very long time, you felt alone and helpless.

TBC