#this is a slowburn and it is long

[spumonibones]

Chasing Wings: Memoria 02

Pairing: Xiao x Venti First Chapter (Ao3) ; First Chapter (Tumblr)

Next Chapter Lore/Story Notes Chapter CW: None | Update Schedule: Every Wednesday Canon Divergence AU; Other Four Yaksha Still Live; Zhongli already retired but Osial hasn't happened; Canon Typical Violence

Note: I am slowly uploading (to mitigate spamming) this fic to be on Tumblr in addition to Ao3 - patience is appreciated! Summary: "To Err is Human, to Forget is Godly."

Almost 500 years ago, the Cataclysm happened. As the fires and monsters dwindled, most of the Seven had fallen. One, Barbatos, simply disappeared - and in his absence, the mourning songs of Dvalin would serenade the land of wind each yearly anniversary. The surviving Archons presumed him dead, and Monstadt presumed he simply never was.

Then one day, before a Traveler will fish Teyvat's Best Guide from its waters, a young man named Venti is rescued by the Vigilant Yaksha. Without memory a face as familiar as it is foreign, the question then becomes... What path can one take, when new memories meet old?

***

As the two exchanged verses, Venti learned that who he was speaking to was Hu Tao. More commonly addressed as Director Hu, because she was the director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. That the form of poetry and song he was familiar with, was much closer to Monstadt’s idea. Or so he was assuming, as when she said it he had simply agreed because far as she knew, he was a bard from Monstadt. Far as Venti knew, he wasn’t from anywhere around here but was clueless how to begin explaining that. He was starting to learn the intricacies of Liyue’s poetry, with Hu Tao gleefully sharing with him the various books that she had in the parlor. Initially he assumed most of them would be more morbid, but was pleasantly surprised to find the beauty in each delicately crafted work that weaved life, mortality, death, and possibility. Given the option, he would have stayed in that coffin discussing sonnets and stanzas and everything else he could with someone so proficient in knowledge. Especially after she started sharing some of her own with him!

Alas, speaking to one another in increasingly complicated meters was cut short by a deep voice that carried a smoothness to it that was peculiar in its familiarity. “Director Hu. I see your guest is awake?” The newcomer had entered the room, and the first thing that struck Venti was how perfect their posture was. Even with an incomplete memory, Venti felt confident he had never seen anyone in his life with a straighter back. Their hair was a dark brown, with the tips a shining bronze. Their skin tone was similar to Hu Tao’s, along with their clothes although unlike her shorts they wore suit pants and while her attire had floral accents to it this person’s had golden scales. The eyes were especially striking, two perfect samples of amber highlighted with gold. This person was also just tall. If Venti could stand, he suspected he’d reach their chest at the highest. Yet for all the attractive features they innately had, there was this odd agitation he could only assume came from being interrupted.

“Mr. Zhongli, welcome back! Want to see the poem we were working on?” Hu Tao offered, jumping out of her chair with the paper in her hand. “It’s got that bang! I���ve been trying to find!” She continued, offering up the scroll in the same way a child might offer it to a parent. Were these two related…? No, that doesn’t make any sense. She wouldn’t have addressed him so formally if they were, Venti thought.

"I would be delighted to, Director Hu." Zhongli replied, voice smooth and solid like stone. The request hadn't changed the relaxed visage, and Venti wondered if this was a normal occurrence. Just a funeral director, writing stanzas with an almost drowned stranger. The usual, apparently. "I take it our friend here is, indeed, a bard from Monstadt?" Zhongli continued, amber eyes flickering briefly to look at Venti with an unreadable expression, before returning to the papers.

That was… Peculiar.

"Mmhmm! Right, Venti?" Hu Tao offered the invite to bring their third wheel into the conversation. "I know you're going to want to give a lot of feedback, but now that you're here…" A sly, almost devilish smile made its way across her features, red eyes glinting with mischief. "I can drum up some business!"

"Please do not go overboard with the offers again, Director Hu. Coupons may be the way of the future, but cutting profits from them too sharply will outweigh the gains." Zhongli's words carried a certain weight with them, a maturity and wisdom that ill-matched that youthful appearance. The height and sharp features made first impressions be that this was an older man, but the smooth face was telling how few years it had actually seen. And yet the way Zhongli spoke, it was as if this were an old, weary soul trying to keep his charge out of trouble.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Zhongli~" And with that, Hu Tao left the room. Seconds later, she popped her head back in. "Oh! I haven't fed your guest yet!" She informed him, and at this Venti raised a brow.

Venti was… Zhongli's guest? This was getting more strange by the moment, his nails digging into the wood once more. He liked Hu Tao. She had vitality, creativity, and was a free-spirit yet still held true to her responsibilities. There was a safety in her presence. But she was leaving him here with this… For lack of a better descriptor, old man trapped in a body like that?

"I'll have the reception handle walk-ins. You get him some food, all right? Later!" Just as quickly as she returned, she was gone once more.

"So. You're a bard from Monstadt. What brings you to Liyue?" Zhongli asked, his eyes focusing on the task of neatly folding the paper. The lines were precise, aligned perfectly as he closed it to the size of an envelope.

"Hahah, call it big fish in a little pond situation. Once everyone knows you, there's nowhere to go. Figured I'd expand my reach." The lie fell from Venti's lips so easily. The bard felt an innate trust towards the man, but also a burning refusal to ask for help. An unusual tug of war between common sense and a stubborn streak, well hidden beneath a proud smile.

"Is that right? How interesting. May I inquire after your name, Mr. Bard?" Zhongli asked, his voice full of formality. The paper, folded too perfectly, was slid with a ginger care into his pocket.

Alarms were ringing in Venti's mind, but he ignored them. What was there to worry about? "Venti's the name, master of sonnets and songs!" He gave the best bow he could, wincing as his muscles burned in his legs when he stretched them from the movement.

"Venti, a pleasure. My name is Zhongli." The man returned the greeting, his manners matching both his tone and expression. "I'm actually quite familiar with the bards of Monstadt, and I must apologize, for I am not familiar with that name?"

The alarms that had been going off suddenly made sense. Venti's smile faltered, having been caught so quickly and so easily into the other man's trap. This guy… Venti thought, feeling a frown but forcing the smile on his face to remain. Managing a sheepish laugh, he let his body lean into the coffin, scratching the back of his head.

"Ahah, you got me. I'm actually… Not there yet. There was too much competition, and I couldn't stand out. Figured I could learn a lot in Liyue, but I ran into a bit of trouble." A bit was underselling what actually happened. Additionally, if Zhongli caught him in this second lie he was pressed for what to do. This Blockhead needs to mind his business, this is fine! The thought came unbidden, but it was right. Fine was relative, after all. Plenty of folk would have loved to pass out in a river, almost drown, and wake up in a coffin.

Actually, replaying those thoughts, Venti suspected only those of Hu Tao’s ilk would be particularly pleased with that turn of events. Personally he was just happy that he woke up at all.

“I see. You picked a most excellent destination for honing your skills, then. Liyue is a prosperous country, with its many bounties including history, art, and culture.” Zhongli didn’t question Venti about what he meant with ‘a bit of trouble.’ Nor did his face show any signs of belief or disbelief, merely eyes that held a hint of interest with something else. Hopefully the bard’s answer satisfied him. “Now, I should make good on Director Hu’s promise of feeding you. A taste of Liyue cuisine will do you well after such a rough start.”

Food sounded nice, but depending on where the two went Venti hoped for something much better with which to whet his tongue. If he was lucky, along the way perhaps he could meet someone else. Someone that didn’t watch him with a gaze that hid thoughts yet so easily saw through Venti’s. Hands on the sides with the best grip he could manage, Venti tried to push himself up and out of the coffin. With a wince followed by a sharp cry of pain, his arms gave out as he crumpled back into the wooden box. The calm temperament should have been reassuring, yet for some inexplicable reason Venti felt his face get hot with embarrassment that Zhongli had been the one to witness that.

“...I will get you assistance.” Zhongli spoke, melancholy in his words that was out of place with his otherwise courteous speech. Footsteps barely audible, he exited the room. Sucking in shallow breaths, Venti let his body remain limp within the coffin. What about that had been so humiliating? That was just some random guy, and Venti’s body had gone too many kilometers without fuel. Of course he couldn’t support himself yet! So why had Zhongli seeing it aggravated him so much!?

Within minutes Zhongli had returned, another gentleman there with him with that same polite demeanor. The newcomer was genial and careful of where hands went, lifting and carrying Venti with a respect that probably felt as ridiculous as it looked. One finely dressed man lifting a much smaller one in someone else’s pajamas. “Couldn’t carry me yourself, huh?” Venti asked, quirking a black brow at Zhongli as all three exited the funeral parlor.

“I fear I lack the strength to move you without incident. I do apologize.” Zhongli offered his condolences, but Venti could just sense there lacked sincerity to it. Also, that was a lie. The bard wasn’t sure how he knew, but he just knew it! As the gentleman kind enough to carry Venti to a cart passed the taller man, Venti could have sworn that Zhongli’s visage was closer to worried than the pleasant polite he had been wearing the whole time. Just as quickly as he thought he saw it, however, it had either gone or simply had never been there. The carriage took the trio plus the driver through the streets, and since he got to sit Venti took the opportunity to get nosy about his surroundings.

The architecture was drastically different from what little he got to see of Monstadt. Even the air itself carried with it a distinct taste and smell. A tang of flavours blended into meals that made his mouth water from the scent alone, a promise of delicacies on the wind. It was as if the world itself was embracing autumn with all the golds and browns. The only drawback he could find, was that every cobble and home held a rigidity to it. There was such a thing as too much structure, and what he was seeing of Liyue Venti got the impression that no inch of the city happened without more time spent on planning than actual construction. Frowning slightly, he tried to find where any space for sporadic bouts of inspiration could have slipped in with the buildings.

By the time the carriage stopped, Venti had to be shaken awake by the third gentleman after having dozed off, his neck at almost ninety degrees behind his shoulders. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Bard.” The gentleman spoke with a quiet voice, with the same softness as a parent would with a drowsy child. Giving his thanks, Venti didn’t get the chance to even try to walk himself inside before the kind stranger lifted him once more. A handful of passerbyers gave the three an odd look, but for the most part everyone seemed more interested in their own jobs or errands to care about the unusual sight. The restaurant itself was a breath of fresh air. The design was akin to an open one, the tables casual and each one offered a view of the kitchen. The stuffiness of Liyue’s perfect stacks of buildings seemed subdued within the restaurant, a friendly warmth that filled Venti’s nostrils with more than just tasty scents.

Once he was settled into a chair, the man gave a nod. “If you require further assistance Mr. Bard, please ask one of the Millelith. Not all of us can spare you help at all times, but if we are able to we want to ensure all visitors enjoy their stay. Please feel better.”

“Thank you, Zexuan. That was very kind of you.” Zhongli gave an appreciative nod of his head, of which was returned by the other man.

“All in a day’s work, Mr. Zhongli!” Zexuan’s entire demeanor lit up at the compliment, all but beaming before he exited the restaurant.

“Does this happen often?” Venti finally asked, resting his chin on one hand before tilting it just slightly to the side.

“Does what?” Zhongli asked, amber eyes on fingers that carefully, one by one, removed black gloves.

“Do people often get carried around by the… Millelith, he called them?” Venti asked, and across the table those hands paused in removing silken gloves. A second ticked, and then the gloves were removed entirely though Zhongli’s eyes did not look up.

“No. They do not. Out of curiosity, how familiar are you with Liyue?” Zhongli’s inquiry filled Venti’s shoulders with tension, but the bard merely spread his smile in apology.

“Not especially so, I’m afraid. I was encouraged to learn what I could here by a good friend.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. The knight that saved him was the closest thing to a good friend Venti had in this world, and even that was stretching it. “Would you mind telling me about it?”

“...No. I would not.” Zhongli’s voice lowered, a sadness Venti suspected to be there lurking beneath each syllable. “Let us order, first.” He suggested, looking up while taking in a deep breath. Right back to that marble posture. I should sit on his shoulders, see what happens, came the first of many intrusive thoughts. “Would you be remiss if I ordered for you, given your inexperience with our cuisine?” A simple nod was the consultant's answer. When a young girl with blue hair approached them, personality bubbly and excitable, Venti was once more disappointed that he got stuck with the stuffy boring guy.

The food was served quickly, along with a bottle of wine complete with two glasses. Spotting it, Venti’s eyes widened. His attention was so fixated on it, he didn’t notice the quirk of Zhongli’s brow. Truthfully, Venti had no idea what he was eating. Whatever it was, it was one of the best blends of spices and textures he had ever put in his mouth. Exempting apples. Nothing could ever beat a ripe, crispy apple… But this meal certainly came close. The sounds his stomach made, and how his toes wiggled while he ate didn’t bother him. If it bothered anyone else, the hunger that guided him with each mouthful prevented him from noticing. And the wine - the wine! His throat said that harder liquors had burned down his hatchet before, but the familiarity of it was divine all the same. There were hints of apricots, and he hummed happily after each glass he downed.

“What is this?” Venti finally asked, attention fixated on his plate and glass alone.

“Osmanthus wine.” Zhongli answered between his calmer bites.

“Mmm! Tastes the same as I remember.” Venti found himself saying with a laugh, but didn’t dwell on it too much. Well, at least that was one more nugget of recollection he had now. Zhongli watched him, those amber eyes once more burning too deeply into Venti.

“Is that right? And where are those who share the memories?” Zhongli’s turn of phrase was peculiar, as if he was asking more than just Venti. Asking people that weren’t there, that once were there. Was asking Venti in a way that he didn’t understand. Do we… Know each other? That was a silly thought. If they did, this man would have said something by now.

“Hah… Around, I guess?” Venti said, grinning in spite of the discomfort brewing inside. “I didn’t know this came from Liyue. A friend shared a bottle with me before.” He explained, just in case Zhongli was getting suspicious again.

“That would make sense. Osmanthus is often our choice for ‘reunion wine,’ and if you were meeting with an old friend that would be the ideal selection.” That somberness was back in Zhongli’s voice, and the behavior combined with the words was practically offensive in how cryptic it was. “You were curious about Liyue, so please allow me to offer you some insight to my home.” Despite being an obvious change of subject, the timbre voice made it flow so naturally Venti almost didn’t catch on. But once Zhongli started discussing the wonders of Liyue, there was no stopping him. At a glance, the man hadn’t seemed to be much of a story-teller. Yet his even tone combined with his calm demeanor made the way he weaved fact and legend to share the history of Liyue didn’t sound practiced or rehearsed. There was an undercurrent of passion and pride, quiet yet encompassing like a mountain. Despite himself, Venti found that he was leaning forward with his chin rested on both hands. The only other item he gave his attention to was the wine, of which he was fairly confident that he had consumed the majority of. There was a distant buzz in the back of his skull, but not enough for him to admit to being tipsy. Not yet. If another bottle was procured, maybe.

The pair found themselves in the little restaurant for hours, exchanging curiosities and explanations. Of all that they shared, one thing tugged the most at Venti. “Can I… Be honest with you about something?” He lowered his voice, suspicious that his question would garner him a great deal of curious attention. When he got a nod, he leaned in a bit closer. “You kept talking about this Archon, that Rex Lapis. Things called Visions? What… Are they?”

Yet another in a long line of even stares, but despite that even gaze Venti could sense the confusion within the other. “I think that is best saved for a more private setting.” Was all Zhongli said.

“Director Wu covering your meal again?” The blue-haired girl asked as the two approached her, Venti able to walk on his wobbly legs after rest and food.

“Ah… I suppose so.” Zhongli admitted, closing his eyes. “I recall setting my wallet down, but not picking it back up.”

“Heehee, I suspected that would be the case. We’ve already reached out to her, you two please take care!” She said, waving at the pair when they walked past.

“Thank you, Xiangling.” Zhongli offered her a grateful smile, and with that they left. The walk was silent, and Venti was disappointed to find there was no carriage again this time. As they strolled Liyue, the sun setting and casting an orange glow across the town as a whole, Venti couldn’t suppress his yawn. For whatever reason, he was this guy’s guest for now. But for how long? Where would he go, and what would he do after this? At least now he had a better understanding of the environment he was in. “There are Seven Archons in Teyvat. One for each element, one ruling within each region.” Zhongli was talking again, keeping a casual countenance to give any eavesdropper the impression the two were having a more philosophical than educational discussion. “Rex Lapis was the Archon of Geo, and ruled over Liyue for millenia. Of our two neighboring nations, there is Sumeru with the Dendro Archon Lesser Lord Kusanali… And Monstadt, of which the current status of its Anemo Archno, Lord Barbatos, is unknown. You may know what I am going to ask next, having said this?”

“How am I from Monstadt, and don’t know what an Archon is?” Venti asked, determined to keep his eyes on where he was walking instead of the pensive gaze he was receiving.

“Something of that nature, yes.” Zhongli dodged being direct, and that annoyed the bard. Perhaps that was payback for his lies until then? Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, but that little whisper telling him to hide everything from the other had gone silent.

“...There’s a lot I don’t remember. Everything before a couple of days ago, it’s… I can’t recall any of it.” Venti walked a fine line of truth and omittance, leaving out details he didn’t feel comfortable sharing. With the way the other man was obviously holding back information, it was impossible for Venti trust him completely. The wine was good, but not that good.

“I see.” Zhongli went quiet, his brows knitted in thought as they both kept walking. The streets were lively, even with the approaching night. As they turned a corner, the taller man gave a thoughtful hum. “Five-hundred years ago, there was an event known as The Cataclysm, among other names.” Something in those words made a shiver travel down Venti’s spine, a cold that made him tremble softly. “There was a land without an archon. Until that day, its people were free… Much like that of Monstadt. Shortly after that land fell, the Anemo Archon disappeared. Many believed he died as a result of the Cataclysm. There are… Stories, that the freedom the archon tried to give his people came at a cost. Others believe he simply gave up his seat and passed into obscurity. Today, most in Monstadt doubt he ever existed at all, living almost like those of… Of that now lost kingdom. There has been growing concern that due to the irresponsibility of Barbatos, that Monstadt will follow in that nation’s footsteps, and meet a similar end.”

“Okay, hang on. Real quick: did you get mugged in Monstadt or something?” Venti asked, turning his waist so that he could face Zhongli while still watching his steps from the corner of his eyes. The entire day, this man had been praising Liyue and making little remarks about Monstadt and its Archon. Venti didn’t entirely understand what an Archon was at the time, but was able to gather they were important. Especially now that he heard the Archon’s name, ignoring the shiver that joined hearing it. That was what those people had called him. Addressed him as a ‘god,’ and listening to Zhongli talk about Archons he was understanding the connection. About Barbatos being a god, not about himself. From his current view, how he was this Barbatos person was still a mystery.

A flicker of an odd expression passed across Zhongli, like that of annoyance or recollecting a bad taste. It was gone far too quickly for Venti to gather every emotion in that split-second, but between agitation had been almost fondness. Almost. “That is not relevant.”

Oh, I was kidding but I guess I was right? Venti thought. Logically, he should have felt bad for the guy. Getting mugged had probably been a traumatic experience, and yet he found a grin trying to snake its way onto his face. “I’m starting to think it is.” The bard said, and found disapproving amber eyes looking down into his green ones. Oops, right, that was a sore subject. Time to divert away! “That aside, what’s the point in what you said? You still haven’t even explained these Visions to me.”

“All in due time.” Came yet another in Zhongli’s many vague replies. Hands on his hips, Venti paused a moment so he could properly glare at the taller man. The consultant simply kept walking, unperturbed. Giving an audible huff, Venti put his arms down and hurried after the other. The two found themselves exiting the large city gates of Liyue Harbor, a carriage in the distance. “Yesterday, one of Liyue’s yaksha approached me with you in tow. As your memory is lost, you would not be aware that Liyue’s Archon, Rex Lapis, has passed a year ago. Without his guidance, Liyue has stepped into the era of humans and thus the yaksha have been reaching out to us more. I was surprised that my humble job of consultant was taken to so genuinely by them, but as any citizen I was more than happy to do my part and assist him. He did not know what to do with you. The Diligent Yaksha had rescued you, with the understanding yours would be the last life he saved before losing himself to karma. However…” Zhongli stopped, his brows knitting together as emotions waged beneath the smooth stone of his visage. Only his eyes gave any hint to what he was feeling, and even those obscured most of it. Turning his gaze to look down at Venti, he hesitated.

Blinking, Venti felt the hot tears on his face, the motion setting them free. Reaching up, he placed fingers on the streams in surprise. “Why am I…? Sorry. Uh, please, continue.” Clearing his throat, Venti awaited more of what was to come. Zhongli watched him, eyes searching for something. Sighing, whatever he was looking for wasn’t there.

“Visions are gifts bestowed upon mortals by the gods to acknowledge their worth, and allow humans to manipulate one of the Seven Elements. You do not have one, yet you used one of those elements: Anemo. Even more curious, was that you used it to cleanse Liyue’s Diligent Yaksha of his karma.” The carriage was much closer now, and spotting the pair the driver hollered a greeting.

“Heheh, you think something that amazing was me?” Venti’s laughter was shaky, his nervousness palpable. “ I just, sang him a lullaby. It was the only thing I could do. I know music can save people, but not that literally…” He trailed, before hesitating. Looking up at Zhongli, he asked in spite of the fear, “...Could it?”

“It appears that it did.” Zhongli said simply, and then motioned towards the carriage. “Arrangements have been made with Wangshu Inn, where you will be staying. I suspected you did not have a place to call home, and if I am incorrect I apologize. Adjusting your destination will be no trouble at all.”

All he could do was stand there, stunned. Just like that? Dumped all of that on Venti, and then just decided to say farewell? What was with this guy?! Next chance I get, I’m forging his signature to request him the most potent laxatives there are! The intrusive thoughts returned full-force, and he puffed out his cheeks in exasperation. To make it all worse, Zhongli had the audacity to smile fondly down at Venti! As if the rising annoyance was somehow endearing!

“That’s it?” Venti asked, brows pushing down on his eyes. “And no, of course I have nowhere to go! And if I do, you know I don’t remember you Blockhead!”

“Ah. I never thought a time would come in which I would find such joy in that name.” Zhongli sighed, his shoulders subtly relaxing. A warmth was in his eyes, arms behind his back as he casually held his wrist. “Yes, though I do not see how a warm bed with a roof could elicit such disappointment. In fact, I am confident that the inn would be all-too happy to let a blossoming bard such as yourself play there to help cover the cost of food. There are many travelers that cross through there, including those from Monstadt. It would be a good opportunity to… Are you all right?”

“Lord Barbatos, everyone will gather just to hear your pretty little songs. You’ll serenade for us, won’t you? Here. I have some hymns you can practice with. Won’t you let me hear your voice?” Her words echoed in his head, his entire body locking up in that moment he forgot there weren’t walls surrounding him, trapping him. Zhongli’s hand was on his shoulder, the glove having been put back on somewhere between the restaurant and there. An odd thing to notice, but it helped pull Venti back from the memory.

“Sorry. Uh. Stage fright.” Venti lied. The hand remained on his shoulder just long enough to give a gentle squeeze, and then retracted entirely.

“...You can discuss your options with the inn. I apologize for presuming.” Zhongli was back to his normal mask of formality, yet he could not keep hidden the way amber eyes gave a worried search over the bard. Shifting beneath the gaze, Venti coughed.

“Yes.” Venti agreed simply.

“I should also mention that the yaksha you met will be assisting you with your Anemo usage. I suggested it, as he carries an Anemo Vision and is best suited to doing so. It seemed mutually beneficial, so that you may cleanse his karma in exchange. You do not have to worry about this arrangement starting immediately. A fake Vision should be arriving shortly to help you cover up your peculiarity, and I would recommend waiting for it.” Cordial and informative, Zhongli was slipping back into the way he presented himself when the pair first met. It was still him, just a different side of him.

“I know I should thank you for everything you’re doing but… Why are you?” Venti asked. There was being a generous person, and then there was this.

“Anyone in Liyue would do what they could to support our adepti, and those that have saved them. Perhaps to you, an outsider with no memory, you do not understand the importance of your actions. You may see this as kindness, but it is my and Liyue’s gratitude guiding these actions.” There was nothing that Zhongli had said throughout the day to give Venti any reason to doubt the authenticity of his words. Even the jabs seemed to come from a more good-natured source. Having no reason to, Venti still suspected there was more to this that the consultant wasn’t sharing. “I hope your journey is safe, Venti.”

“Thank you. You too, Zhongli.” Accepting he was not going to get more out of the man, Venti continued his walk towards the carriage. Hearing the footsteps of Zhongli leaving, an idea hit him. Well, he couldn’t get the whole truth but… “Hey! Zhongli!” He called, cupping his mouth to help carry his voice. The consultant stopped, head over shoulder with a quirked brow. “I’m sure she was just being polite, but you do know your wallet’s in your left pocket, right?”

“Is that right? I see. Thank you for making me aware, Bard.” Zhongli answered back, the depth of his voice carrying as if through the ground itself. Face blossoming into a happy smile, Venti gave a final wave before hurrying into the carriage. Didn’t even bother to see if the consultant checked his pockets - he already knew the man would.

As he made far enough distance, the carriage out of sight, Zhongli reached his hand into his left pocket. Felt only the sharp lines of the poem he had folded up to read later. Briefly closing his eyes, he let out a long exhale. “You never change, do you, Barbatos?” He asked the wind, amber eyes glowing with hints of Geo as he looked upwards at the sky.

[demigods-posts]

need a scene change in season five where percy asks for kiss because it's kind of a tradition. but instead of annabeth not looking at him. she stops what she's doing and walks up to him. they're nose-to-nose. staring at each other. and annabeth almost looks aggravated. until she tells him to come back alive and he'll see. and percy stares deep into her eyes just nods. and then they part ways. and immediately start kicking ass on opposite ends of the battlefield. and the remaining campers are stunned. but quickly gather themselves to exchange drachma before fighting because they placed a bet on whether or not these two have kissed yet. and apparently.

[kikyoupdates]

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟷

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

story masterlist | next

“...you can do what now?”

“Hire someone to date you,” your friend, Ava, repeats. She chuckles and waves you off dismissively. “Come on, [Name]. It’s the modern age. People are always coming up with new things these days. I’m willing to bet there’s an app or website out there for practically anything.”

You blink in disbelief. Granted, there is all kinds of crazy shit going on in the world, and you’ve heard of companionship services before—like escorts or sugar baby arrangements—but to hear that something like this is trending nowadays is still undeniably a shock. 

“Here, look,” Ava gestures, pulling out her phone. “I was curious, so I downloaded the app the other day just to check out.” 

“Uh, don’t you already have a boyfriend?”

“He knows I was just browsing. I showed him too, and we scrolled through some stuff together. A lot of the profiles on here are wild,” she laughs. “It’s crazy what people advertise they’re willing to do. Get a load of this guy. He says he’s down to meet your family and make a total ass out of himself just so that he lowers your parents’ standards and the next real boyfriend you get will look way better by comparison.”

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. “I can’t tell if this is actually real, or just some new meme template.” 

“Of course it’s real! I think you’re underestimating how lonely people these days are. There’s definitely a lot of money to be made in this industry. Just look at how much people are willing to blow on their favorite streamer, even though they’ve never met them a day in their life. Dating’s gotten a lot more complicated lately, so I guess some people just want to skip past the troublesome parts and experience what it’s like to be with someone.” 

You furrow your brows. The whole thing sounds incredibly sad when you think of it that way. People would rather pay for a fabricated relationship than put in the time and effort towards building something real? Loneliness is starting to sound like an actual epidemic nowadays. 

“Well, I guess I shouldn’t judge people without understanding where they’re coming from,” you acknowledge. “It’s not like I know what they’ve been through. Times are changing and all. It sounds like this is actually starting to become pretty mainstream.” 

Ava nods chipperly. “Yep! I mean, I love my boyfriend, so I’m definitely not the target audience, but maybe it’s what some people need to gain a little boost of confidence and get back into the dating scene. I doubt everyone uses it in a romantic sense too. There are people out there that just want a bit of company every now and then. Isn’t it nice that they have someone to spend time with this way?” 

“Yeah… I guess that’s true.” 

Honestly, you’re still struggling to fully wrap your head around this. You understand the premise well enough, but you can’t really get past the part about accepting payment just to provide someone with a fabricated experience. Then again, you suppose that’s the case for most things nowadays. People are willing to spend the brunt of their earnings on in-game purchases for video games and other things that aren’t tangible in the real world, because even though they aren’t necessarily organic, it still provides them with some satisfaction. 

Long story short, it’s not up to you to decide what does or doesn’t make someone else happy, and you suppose as long as it’s executed in a professional manner, there’s nothing wrong with meeting new people this way. 

“Hey, I’ve got a great idea,” Ava suddenly perks up. “You should join this app! You’re super pretty, smart, and nice. I bet you’d have loads of guys lining up to hire you as their girlfriend!”

“Me?” You blink repeatedly, shuffling backwards the closer she leans in. “I mean, I just don’t think I’m the right person for the job. If it makes people happy, then I support it, but deep down, I worry I’d feel like I’m exploiting someone’s feelings just for a few extra bucks. Morally speaking, I’m not so sure I like the idea…” 

“It’s not exploitation,” she insists. “People know what they’re signing up for. At the end of the day, it’s a buyer-seller relationship. Someone pays for the service being advertised, and they receive it. As long as you’re not ambiguous about what you’re willing to do for the amount that you’re charging, people know what to expect. Of course, I’m sure there might be the occasional asshole here and there, but if they do anything inappropriate or violate the terms, you can report them through the app and they’ll be banned from using it.” 

You’re not quite sure how to respond to that. Some extra money would be nice. You’re a university student with all sorts of loans, so it’s not like you’ve got excess cash lying around. And it’s also true that you’ve been looking to apply for a new job lately, since your old manager was a total ass and you ended up quitting. 

Still. A girlfriend-for-hire? Someone like you? It’s just really difficult to imagine. 

“I actually think it’d be a good experience,” Ava goes on. “You’ve never really put yourself out there before. I know everyone dates at their own pace and stuff, but you shouldn’t have to be afraid. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet some cool people and want to date them for real. And even if you don’t end up going for them, you still make some money, so either way, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

You chuckle weakly. “Yeah, I just don’t know. I feel like I’m better suited for traditional jobs. But thanks for the vote of confidence. I’m glad you think people would actually be willing to pay to date me.” 

“Girl, you seriously need to believe in yourself more,” Ava sighs. “I’m telling you, you’re a catch. But at the end of the day, it’s your call. You shouldn’t force yourself into anything if you feel uncomfortable.”

You smile and nod in agreement, and sensing your discomfort, Ava decides to change the topic.

But for some reason, you feel a twinge in your chest, and it’s hard to keep your mind from wandering.

Later that same day, you’re lounging on the couch, mouth agape, having just downloaded the app on your own phone. 

“What the hell am I doing…?” 

You tell yourself that it’s just simple curiosity. Yeah. That’s all it is. Ava piqued your interest earlier, and now you just want to scroll through in more detail to get a better sense of what kind of people use this platform. 

The app is called ‘Partner For Hire’. The name isn’t particularly inspired, you have to admit, but you suppose it communicates its point rather effectively and leaves no room for ambiguity. Ultimately, this is a transactional relationship, and it’s probably for the best that clients know what to expect. 

You can use the app as either a buyer or seller. Meaning that you can create your profile and advertise your services, or simply list yourself as a prospective client and what your hobbies and interests are. In that sense, it’s kind of similar to most dating apps, since you have to take a flattering photo to go along with whatever blurb you’re providing. Of course, just because you try to solicit someone’s services doesn’t mean there’s any guarantee they’ll accept. This is an app where you can run everything yourself, and of course the company takes a cut of your profits, rather than an agency that matches you with a client regardless of whether you want to accept the job or not. 

There’s definitely a lot of flexibility, and you can easily choose who you want to pretend to date. If someone is interested in hiring you, they submit a request to be able to contact you, and once you accept, you can message them directly and establish the terms of the dating contract, such as the length and what particular services will be provided. 

You scroll through the list of boyfriends/girlfriends being advertised on the app, and honestly, it seems like there’s a decent amount of money to be made. Of course, a lot of that comes with building a good reputation and improving your ratings and visibility so more people will want to hire you, but it actually seems like a decent amount of people are able to make a living off this sort of thing. 

You bite down on your lower lip. Should you really go ahead and just do it? Like Ava said, there’s probably not much to lose. All the transactions are managed on the app, so you can easily report people who try to skip out on paying. Clients have to link their banking and personal info, so they’d be taking on a big risk by trying to scam people. You’re sure it might happen from time to time, but based on the reviews you’ve read, the company is really good at enforcing their policies and making sure everyone gets paid.

The money seems good, and it would definitely help take some pressure off your student loans, but ultimately, the biggest thing you’re struggling with is your moral compass.

People are willing to spend money for this kind of thing, and that’s entirely their choice to make, so it’s not like you’re extorting them or anything. Still… you wonder if it’s actually okay to profit off of someone else’s loneliness. You’ve never worked the kind of job that requires you to cater directly to another person’s emotions, and it kind of freaks you out.

But maybe Ava is right. There are all sorts of people in this world. Maybe some of them are just curious to try the app out. Maybe others just want to get their families off their back by pretending like they’re dating someone for a little while. There’s no way to discern everyone’s motivations, so perhaps there’s really no point in thinking about it at all. 

Most importantly, this could be a good thing for you. Life has been stagnant recently, and it’s true that you usually hesitate to put yourself out there. You’ll never learn what you do or don’t like if you keep on avoiding everything. This could be a chance to learn a lot about other people, but also, to learn more about yourself. 

Yeah. It’s time to stop overthinking for a change and just try something new. 

Thus, feeling unusually determined, you spend the rest of the day setting up your profile (finding nice selfies was the longest part of the whole ordeal), and with a resolved huff, you post it and officially go live on the app. 

You’re not really sure what you were expecting, but needless to say, there isn’t any immediate feedback. It probably takes a while for people to stumble across your profile, and even then, there’s no guarantee they’ll want to go out with you. 

I guess I was getting worked up for no reason. Certain people might find success with this kind of thing, but it’s probably not as easy as it looks. 

You scratch your cheek, suddenly sheepish over how needlessly excited you got earlier. You’re not used to stepping out of your comfort zone, so you must have gotten a bit carried away. 

For the rest of the evening, you set your phone aside and come back to reality. You get some homework done, make dinner, and by the time you’re ready for bed, you’ve pretty much forgotten about the whole thing altogether. 

That is, until you check and see that you’ve missed a notification.

“Huh? Someone viewed my profile and wants to message me?”

You’re undeniably taken aback. Not just because it’s happening a lot sooner than you expected, but also because it means that contrary to what you first thought, people are interested in you. 

Having minimal experience when it comes to dating and romance in general, you have to admit, the thought of being viewed as desirable is immensely flattering. 

Curious to see who wants to hire your services, you click on the user’s profile.

His name is Isaac, and he’s twenty-one years old, set to complete his undergraduate studies at the end of the year. He goes to a different university than yours, thankfully, because you can’t help but feel like it would be incredibly awkward to bump into him on campus after pretending to be his girlfriend. He’s studying to become a doctor, which means he’s still got a lot of school ahead of him, but you’ve always had a lot of admiration for people who are willing to commit to their goals and work hard. 

Also, even though you don’t want to sound shallow or anything… he’s really, really attractive. 

You frown. Granted, there’s more to a person than their appearance, but based on how he comes across in his profile and what his future career is, he doesn’t strike you as the type of person who would struggle to date someone.

But again, you can never know what’s going on in a stranger’s life. And there’s no real way to find out why he decided to join the app.

Apart from speaking to him directly, of course. 

[𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐦𝐞��𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬?]

>>[𝐘𝐄𝐒]

After a momentary delay, the screen loads into a messaging interface, allowing you to see what Isaac sent you and respond to him directly.  

You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times.

All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling. 

More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now. 

You stare at the messages without blinking, just taking it all in. So, there really are people like him out there, who use these apps for reasons other than seeking companionship. It sounds like he’s not too interested in dating for real, but his parents are putting a lot of pressure on him, so he just wants an escape. Honestly, you can’t blame him for it. Your parents were overbearing for the better portion of your life—even now, as an adult—so you can understand just how suffocating it gets at times. 

All of a sudden, you don’t feel too bad about accepting the job. It doesn’t feel like exploitation in the slightest. In fact, you’d be helping someone resolve a frustration situation, while getting paid in the process. It actually sounds like it could be rather fulfilling. 

More importantly, you decided to be more confident and try something new. You refuse to back out now. 

[𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞]:

You’re admittedly a bit nervous, especially since you want to do a good job and avoid letting him down, but mostly, you’re feeling excited. All of this is uncharted territory for you, after all. Never in a million years would you have imagined taking on a job like this. 

And you really shouldn’t have.

You don’t know it yet, but this will be the cause of many, many regrets. 

Shit. I’m starting to have second thoughts. 

Even now, you still can’t believe you’re really going through with this. After talking to Isaac and ironing out the finer details, you agreed to join him for a family gathering and pose as his girlfriend. You expected for him to have quite a few requests, but luckily, he seems pretty laid back about the whole thing. The better portion of your conversation was spent on getting your stories straight so as not to incur any suspicion, and since you’ve always been a good student and a hard worker, you promptly memorized everything there was to know. 

And now, it’s finally time to put this plan in motion. 

“Hey,” Isaac greets. “[Name], right?”

It’s the evening, since his parents are hosting a dinner party. The event is supposed to be pretty casual, but you still dressed up semi-formal in the hopes of making a good impression. He never explicitly mentioned how strict his parents are, but since they’ve been on his case about getting a girlfriend, it never hurts to go the extra mile. 

"Hi, Isaac,” you smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.” 

“You, too,” he nods. He’s considerably taller than you, and every bit as handsome as his picture suggested. Unless his personality is god-awful (which you probably would’ve picked up on after messaging him for so long), you’ve got a good feeling that most girls would be interested in him.

Still, everyone is different. He might have really high standards, or maybe he wants to focus on his studies, or perhaps it’s just a case of having never met the right person. Whatever the reason may be, his parents shouldn’t be pressuring him to date someone, and if you have the means to help him out, you’ll happily do it. 

“You look really nice,” Isaac says. He tilts his head to the side. “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to dress up to impress anyone. The most important part is that they believe I’m seeing someone so that they finally ease up a bit.” 

“Oh, I just did this for my own peace of mind,” you reassure. “I made sure to memorize everything you told me in advance, so I’m confident I can convince them that we’re the real deal. Even though this is technically my first day on the job… I promise not to let you down.” 

You blush, feeling rather flustered. The idea of being someone’s hired girlfriend is still a lot to wrap your head around, and you certainly don’t want to make empty promises, but you have every intention of giving it your best shot. Isaac is in a stressful situation, and you’re resolved to do whatever you can to fix it. 

“Can’t wait to get this over with,” Isaac sighs. He opens the passenger door and gestures for you to step inside the car. “Don’t worry. I know you might be feeling a bit uneasy, but I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything like that. I won’t hold it against you if you have 911 ready on speed dial until we get to my parents’ house.” 

“I trust you,” you insist. “I’ve heard good things about this app, and it sounds like they take safety seriously. They’ve got your information in their system, after all. Plus, I can tell that you’re a nice guy. It’s just a gut feeling.”

“I appreciate it,” he smiles. “Anyways… I guess I’ve stalled for long enough. You can probably tell that I really don’t feel like going. But the sooner I get them off my back, the better.” 

“I’ll be the best girlfriend you can ask for,” you beam. 

It’s a promise to him, but also to yourself. You are committed to taking this new job seriously, and for the rest of the evening, you will do whatever it takes to blend into the role that’s been thrust upon you. There’s no reason to get worked up. At the end of the day, all of this is pretend. It won’t be anywhere near as complicated as a real relationship.

Right?

story masterlist | next

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🦋 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[ascesabo]

the great irony of early one piece antagonists believing zoro was the actual captain and using luffy as a puppet ... oda really threw us a bone and curb-stomped it right in our faces. yes, zoro could be a captain in his own right. yes, zoro could match luffy in strength. yes, zoro knows this perfectly well. and you know what? he chose luffy two years ago, and he will continue to choose luffy again and again. roronoa zoro, the pirate hunter, who followed a wannabe pirate with a nonexistent crew on a whim because luffy brought him his swords and made a half-assed attempt at a bargain. zoro, who made a vow to never lose again on both his and luffy's honor. zoro, who told luffy he'd make him commit harakiri if he got in the way of zoro's goal, only to turn around and be willing to sacrifice his dream if it means that luffy reaches his. zoro, who stood in place and took luffy's pain and told a warlord to take his head instead of luffy's, who got down on his knees before his supposed rival and begged mihawk to mentor him so that he could return strong enough to protect his captain. zoro, who has conqueror's haki- a natural born leader- but chooses to stay at the right hand of a man he has deemed greater than himself.

and the thing that luffy fears most? being alone. being rejected. being left behind. and what should have been his foil- the pirate hunter to his pirate king, the nonbeliever to his divine, the king of hell to his sun god- instead becomes his first and most devout follower; the one who demands to follow him to hell and back. oughhhggg i'm sick to my stomach

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Ten

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Mentions of cannon-typical violence. Azriel and Y/n have a late night conversation. Fluff and other stuff.

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Gwyn says hi by the way.” 

Azriel choked on his coffee, bitter flavor rising in his throat. Nesta sauntered into the kitchen, cool eyes glaring at the back of his head. Your familiar silhouette was nowhere to be found. 

Not here. His shadows whispered. With Rhys.

“Calm down you idiot.” Nesta’s voice dripped with unrestrained contempt as she poured herself a cup and sat. His tan skin glistened with sweat after his morning training session, inky tattoos splashing across his bare chest and trailing over his shoulders, down his back, and up to his neck. In the cloudy afternoon light it was difficult to tell where his shadows ended and where his tattoos began. 

“Y/n’s not here. You’ll have to walk around half-naked some other time.” 

Azriel winced. “That isn’t what—”

Nesta brushed him off with a wave of her hand, eyes narrowing over her mug. Azriel felt like a bug pinned down under a microscope. A crushed butterfly about to hang.

“How is Gwyn doing?” he asked gingerly, casually. 

“She’s fine. Believe it or not, the world did not end when you broke up with her.”

Again he flinched. “I’m sorry, Nes,” he whispered rather pathetically. 

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. But you already know that.” 

There seemed to be no shortage of people he needed to apologize to: Elain, Mor, Emerie, Gwyn, even Lucien — especially Lucien. His cheeks burned to think of the absolute mess of things he’d made. Feyre had been the quickest to forgive him for the debacle with Elain and Gwyn. But as Cassian had mentioned at dinner, there was a reason everyone was staying away from the River House, and the reason was him. 

Two years ago he’d challenged Lucien Vanserra to a blood duel for Elain’s hand. It had felt so right at the time, so obvious: three sisters for three brothers. But it was only when their deaths had loomed over her head with shocking reality that Elain realized what a horrible mistake she’d made. The mistake they’d made together. 

“Call it off,” she’d commanded him, blocking Lucien’s bloody, heaving body. The son of Autumn’s sword had been kicked away, scraping across the rock with an eerie scream and disappearing over the cliff edge. But Elain had stayed, soft brown eyes begging, “Do this and I will never forgive you. What we did… it wasn’t right. It was a mistake.”

A mistake, she’d called it. Years of silent longing and bare bone brushes of their hands in dark hallways. All a mistake. Those words had haunted him. They’d chased him into Gwyn’s kind arms where he once again mistook the friendship he felt towards her as love and broke her heart in the process. Add that to his lackluster response to Mor’s coming out and… well he had a lot of work ahead of him. 

He hoped he would be forgiven in time, but that didn’t mean he’d twiddle his thumbs until that day came. He scoured Prythian’s publishers for new releases of adventure, mystery, and romance books — the raunchier the better — and they showed up every month at Cagniv Library like clockwork. The priestesses still thought it was part of a trade bargain with the Day Court. He’d sent Elain and Lucien plenty of letters and gifts, but either they weren’t being opened or they weren’t bothering to respond. He wouldn’t blame them either way. As for Mor and Emerie, they were gone with the wind, too busy infiltrating lands and enjoying an extended honeymoon on the continent to bother with him. 

That cold stillness in Nesta’s eyes transformed into pity. It was hard not to be reminded of her own failures when she looked at him. Seeing him angry. Watching him crawl into the darkest corners of himself and burn every bridge he crossed had been a shock to Nesta’s system. A plunge into freezing waters that brought pain and clarity. 

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Just give them time, Az. They’ll come around. If they did it for me, they’ll do it for you.” “I think our situations are rather different.” 

“I don’t.” 

“You didn’t try to kill anyone.”

She grimaced. “I came close.”  

He stayed silent for a long while. He washed his cup. He dried it. He put it in the cupboard. 

“Can you—can you please not tell Y/n?” he begged. His voice was small and quiet. He’d been a fool in the past and made terrible decisions in the name of love. Mor, Elain, and Gwyn. They’d all lived more in his mind than in his heart — people he could never fully grasp, and therefore never lose. They’d been safe. Easy. 

It didn’t feel that way with you. You felt solid and warm, even if he’d only touched you once. You felt more real to him than anyone else. You felt like someone he could actually have. Which meant he could lose you before you’d even become his to lose. 

“You can’t keep her in the dark forever. Not about your history, not about the bond. If you’re going to learn anything from your brothers, learn that.”  

“I know,” he whispered. “I just want to get it right this time.” He had to get it right this time. “I want her to fall in love with me because she wants me, not out of some sense of obligation. I want…” I want to be worthy of her.  

Nesta shook her head, a laugh escaping despite her best attempts to stifle it. Azriel looked at her like she’d gone mad.

She giggled again. “It’s funny. For a male as handsome and desirable as you, you have the worst fucking luck with women. The Mother must have a twisted sense of humor.” 

Maybe she did. But Azriel was still enough of a romantic to hope that he had learned from his mistakes, and that his bad luck would end with you. 

You shoved the notebook off Rhysand’s desk, loose papers flying out like uncoordinated doves. 

“I told you notetaking was a futile effort.” The High Lord didn’t even look at you, too busy searching for invisible dirt beneath his manicured fingernails.

You groaned and dropped your head against the book he’d handed you two hours before. 

Rhysand had to smile at your frustration. It was a wholly different experience teaching you magic compared to teaching Feyre. With Feyre, her greatest barrier had been her lack of knowledge (and her hatred of him at the time). She’d been thrust into the world of fae without preparation, but it had left her malleable and adaptable. It was like teaching a newborn how to walk — a mind that could absorb more because it knew so little.

But you knew too much. You could spout off magical theory at the drop of a hat. You were a pedagogical master with a thousand mnemonics to your name. You were the first to wake in all of Velaris, making your way to the Library before bodies could fill the streets, and you only returned when the crowds had either turned in for the night or gone out to drink until daybreak. You swallowed every history book on the Night Court, Clairvoyants, daemati, and death gods until you felt untethered from the earth — until your mind began to float outside your body, buzzing with thoughts that never went away. 

But none of that mattered. Your power was an immovable object that couldn’t be controlled by logic or studying. 

You shoved against that power now.

“Good,” Rhysand nodded, leaning against the window, “You’re getting better at it.” 

He lingered in your mind, hovering over the depths of your emotions and memories like a bird ready to break water. It had taken some time before you felt comfortable with the intrusion. Your first lesson together, Rhysand’s presence in your mind had made it impossible to focus. Panic had seized your mind and your body until you could do nothing more than brace your hands and feet against the chair’s leather upholstery. You could have sworn you saw a head of silver hair to your left. The gentle pitter patter of rain had sounded like dripping blood. 

It wasn’t like that anymore. Henna had left you with a useful skill — you could wind your consciousness around Rhysand and keep him there, suspended in that indescribable space where your thoughts lay so he could do no more damage than you permitted him. 

Through your mind he felt the narrowing of your power. You imagined it like a blanket wrapped around your body, suffocating but familiar. It was this power that laced your skin and made contact with others so hard. You imagined the fabric shortening, creeping up your arms and legs, curling around your torso and squeezing like a snake. Inch by inch you tightened it around you, burying it within your chest instead of carrying it openly like a wound. 

You held a music book between your hands — Nyx’s to be exact. The little Lordling showcased a certain aptitude for the piano his father could only dream of, and being as young and protected as he was, the worst kind of emotion imbued within its pages was agitation. You could hear one of the ballads written within it as clearly as if Nyx was sitting beside you plucking out the melody. 

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter. You swallowed your power. Pulled what was outside inwards. Slowly but surely the music faded away until the book was as all books should be — silent. 

Sweat beaded your brow. This was the most difficult part — not tuning out the music, but keeping the volume at zero. 

Rhysand checked his watch. Waited. Checked it again. 

You lasted thirty minutes before your power burst out along your skin once more like a thousand prickling needles. You shuddered, half-disappointed, half-grateful that you could hear the melody again.

Rhysand clapped his hands, slow and proud. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room was dangerously close to five bells. Rhysand nodded. 

“Perfect timing. We’re done for today.” 

“I can go for longer,” you pleaded. 

“I know you can.” Rhysand pushed off the wall, polished leather boots gleaming. He was wearing his Illyrian leathers this time, the scent of wind still clinging to his skin after a visit to the northern war camps.

Old Illyria lasted thousands of years. The clans used to flow up and down the Steppes, following the tundrabeast that lay claim to those mountainous regions and were said to speak for their god Ramiel — Starbreaker, Night Herder — after whom the mountain is named. They don’t move with the cold winds anymore, even if they’ve kept their names: Ironcrest, Bloodborn, Windhaven, Seawhip, Hawkseed, Timberbane, and a dozen others. And they don’t make sacrifices, although the Blood Rite might be a close—

Rhysand rapped his knuckles on the desk to grab your attention and splayed his fingers wide. “I also know that the moment I dismiss you, you’ll scamper off to the Library to work until you can’t see straight.” 

You shifted in your seat. “I like it there.”

“That’s besides the point. If you keep going at this pace you’ll burn out. Then you won’t be able to help anyone. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

Your eyes widened ever so slightly. You hadn’t thought he’d noticed. “I know what it feels like to burn out and it’s not going to happen anytime soon. I promise.” 

Rhysand suppressed the urgent need to roll his eyes as you gathered your things and walked out the door. “And here I thought I worked too much,” he muttered beneath his breath. 

You carried Henna’s journal tucked within your new Librarian robes — black with ivory detailing and wide sleeves that narrowed at the wrists. You kept a hand on it during late nights at the Library. You ate with it propped open, black splotches swimming across the page like worms. You slept with it beneath your pillow. 

But alas, it would seem the book was going to make you work to wring meaning out of every odd symbol.

You were muttering to yourself as you walked back and forth in front of the fireplace. You’d effectively commandeered one of the reading rooms on the seventh floor, leaving the library only when required for Rhysand’s lessons. Helion’s most recent letter lay open on the table with Cherp’s resting just beneath it. A map hung crooked on the wall, four athenaeums circled in bleeding red ink alongside a list of books that had gone missing — the ones that people knew about at least. 

The Alcove, Ares House, Folkmen’s Bard, and most recently, Argot’s.

 Three Librarians dead. Their throats slit. Blood dribbling down their burgundy robes as they’d sat hunched over their desks. The week before it had been two from Ares House caught swaying from the third floor balcony. 

No one has any idea how it happened. The wards were never set off. Nothing in the Library was disrupted. I tell you this only because you deserve to know what’s happened to your people. Continue your training. Continue your research. Do whatever you need to do. But leave the court business to me, dear. I’ll write to you again when I can.

~ Helion 

“It doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers against your hip where the book remained silent. “None of this makes sense.” 

You’d used every ounce of Rhysand’s training on the book. You’d imagined your power sliding over it like water, fire, needles shooting through cowhide, a hammerstrike, every metaphor imaginable. You’d glared at it with an intensity that would have disintegrated a lesser object. 

When that failed, you had moved onto solving the murders and thefts at your father’s court. You couldn’t content yourself with sitting in one of the cushy, high-backed chairs in Rhysand’s office sipping imported tea in porcelain cups while athenaeums were on lockdown. 

The pattern was shockingly simple — Koschei was going after books that could be traced back to him. Books that might give his enemies the upper hand: folktales alluding to him and his siblings, translated texts from old Bauldish that might have proved useful in deciphering Henna’s book, secondary accounts of the age before High Lords ruled. 

If you were Koschei you’d go after Godswoods next — the collection of athenaeums dedicated to religion. Then on to The Gallows — the athenaeum on death and dying. The two were intricately tied to one another, but people tended to write books on dying before coming up with explanations for what comes after. You’d spent a great deal of time there following your mother’s death, and you could picture it now — solemn black bookshelves looping around a circular room that tapered up into a point like a blade pointed to the sky. 

You finished writing your letter to Helion, along with the list of books you wanted pulled from the archives. Cagniv Library may have been a glowing beacon in the Night Court, and a place of sanctuary for the priestesses, but it was nothing like you were used to.

You held the paper out in front of you, Helion’s glimmering pen tucked behind your sharp ears, and blew. The black letters lifted off the page and faded away like a breath in cold air. The message was already writing itself back into existence in Helion’s office.

“It doesn’t make sense.” 

You scribbled out another note, this one for yourself with another pen. You ripped it to pieces and fed it to the fire. 

What was Koschei looking for now? Was he still looking for the book that now rested against your hip, or had he turned to some other prize? And why kill the Librarians and set all of Day Court on high alert? 

Henna had been careful. She’d stayed hidden until she was forced to tear down the Alcove to get the book. Whoever was causing the killings now was either a showman or a fool. They left bodies hanging from rafters. They carved smiles into throats. They let the Librarians know what they were stealing whether they meant to or not. They left patterns scattered among wreckage for someone like you to figure out. 

It all felt… juvenile for lack of a better word. Someone young. Someone who wanted to prove themselves in a loud way. Someone whose ego hadn’t been tested yet and wasn’t listening to Koschei’s commands in their entirety. 

Azriel. 

You couldn’t help but think of him. 

Azriel was nothing like that. 

He wasn’t loud. He didn’t vy for attention. He didn’t seek the light in a room. His confidence was quiet and true. His kindness took the shape of the shadows that lingered by your ankles. It took the shape of the robes you wore now. He was the only one who’d seen them at The Alcove. He was the only one who could have requested the court seamstress to make a copy and leave it hanging in your closet.

No. Azriel was nothing like that.

Azriel’s eyes lit up like embers when you slid through the front door, weary but bright-eyed and cradling your journals against your chest. The shadows he’d left behind with you slithered across the floor like mist. 

She’s been in the Library all day. Working. The shadows whispered in his ear. She thought about you. 

Azriel smiled. He’d thought about you as well. “I was wondering where you’d gone.” 

You gasped, closing the door louder than you intended. You’d developed a talent for sneaking in and out of the River House unnoticed to the point where Cassian considered hiding bells in your pockets. Nyx had tried to do it as a joke, but you’d caught him giggling too loudly in your bedroom. 

You brightened immediately, a broad smile appearing on your face. Azriel felt his heart leap, then quiet as he caught the scent of parchment paper. 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” You whispered, tip-toeing through the dimly lit hallway to where Azriel was in the sitting room. You sank into the couch with a groan. The hardwood desks at the Library had not been kind to you. 

He shrugged and brushed back his wind-thickened hair, shifting to face you better. A crumb-coated plate lay on the table and he still wore his leathers. He must have just arrived home. 

“I flew as quick as I could. I wanted to be home.” With you. 

He’d gotten so used to the feeling of you sleeping across the hallway that he’d flown the last three days without sleep. It was worth it to see you again. From the looks of it, you’d not fared well in his absence either. Your eyes had that glassy, half-there sheen: a perfect mixture of exhaustion and mind-crackling clarity. 

“And how were the Mortal Lands?” You tucked your knees beneath you and leaned against your hand, fighting the sleep that seemed to grapple for you now that Azriel was home. His wings were spread wide and you resisted the urge to close the last few inches between you and the talon that glimmered in the faelight like obsidian glass.

You’d never been that far south. You’d never had reason to. But Azriel flew far and wide. The Continent was now Mor’s domain, but the secret goings of Prythian and the Mortal Lands belonged to him and him alone. The Spymaster of the Night Court. The Shadowsinger.

Azriel shook his head. “Quiet. Koschei hasn’t touched them yet as far as I can tell, and the Mortal Queens don’t care. They seem to think that they can handle Koschei because he’s agreed to bargains with them in the past.” 

You made a noise of disapproval. “Like they handled Hybern? The only reason they’re still standing is because fae fought their war.” 

The scattering of human armies that had arrived on that battlefield had belonged to no crown. They’d either fought for the bloodlust or the money. You could respect them for that. 

Azriel tipped his head to the side, following the curling of his shadows around his shoulders. “But they are still standing. They don’t know what we sacrificed to keep them safe. That’s the problem with humans. They forget too quickly and get complacent” 

“It would seem we have the opposite problem. We can’t help but remember everything,” you said, with no small amount of bitterness. 

He wanted to keep you talking. He wanted your thoughts. Wanted to fall asleep to the sound of your voice after three weeks of silence. You weren’t aware of it, but the bond had felt thin the further he’d traveled away from you. Like a tightrope stretched to its snapping point. Now that he was back, and you were here, his heart didn’t feel like such a strenuous burden.

He smiled. “I think that’s just you. I know plenty of fae who are forgetful and empty-minded.” He leaned back, stretching his wings out to the side, and winced. They were whipped raw and tender from the flight. 

Without thinking you got up and moved to the fireplace, feeding wood to the flames until it crackled happily. There was a reason Cassian and Azriel loved to bath their wings in sunlight every chance they got. The heat helped the soreness and eased the wind’s rough edge. 

It also drove color into your cheeks and set your hair alight in a soft golden haze. You were a marvel. An angel with a halo to match and Azriel drank in the sight. 

“Like who?”

“Cassian.” 

You smirked and chucked the last of the wood into the flame’s gaping mouth. 

Cass was far from empty-minded, but after decades of being feared as the Lord of Bloodshed he was grateful that people loved him enough to be just a little mean. He gave and received friendly blows like kisses on the cheek and smiled all the wider for it. To threaten his life was the same as saying I love you. It must be why the Mother had made Nesta his mate. She said I love you to him all hours of the day. 

Azriel asked you what you were thinking, and when you told him he felt some of that pain slide off his shoulders like rain. He threw his head back and laughed until his chest started to hurt again and you thought about how rare that sound must be, and how much you loved it. 

“How are the others? Rhysand told me Feyre’s sister is down there along with your friends.” 

Azriel sobered up quickly and cleared his throat. “Yes. Elain, Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa.”

His voice caught on two names: Elain and Lucien, and it didn't escape your notice. He sounded... nervous.

“And? Are they alright?”

He rolled his shoulders and looked out the window to the inky black sky. Vassa would be sleeping now in her human form, and if she was lucky, she’d wake up in the morning still within the manor’s grey stone walls. Safe. Home. 

He shook his head gravely. “They’re nothing short of terrified. Koschei has Vassa under a spell that would normally keep her tied to his lake. He let her go during the war against Hybern and he’s been allowing her to stay, but… everyone’s just holding their breath and trying to prepare for the day he’ll take her back.”

You shivered and wrapped one of the spare blankets around your shoulders. You couldn’t imagine a life where every waking moment held the risk of being torn away from everything you held dear. The anticipation would have broken you more than the act itself. 

“I’ve heard of her. The firebird.” You murmured softly. You imagined a creature with glowing eyes, blue-red feathers streaking behind like ribbons set on fire. Azriel narrowed his eyes in confusion, and you explained, “Ares House records all wartime information. I read the reports. We’re very thorough.”

Azriel smiled. “I would expect nothing less.”

Silence passed in comfort, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Vassa.

“Do you think they’d be able to stop it if Koschei did make her go back?” 

“I don’t know, Y/n.” And it was driving him mad to have Koschei hanging around like a forgotten word at the end of his tongue.

“I hate this,” you spat out, “The not knowing. I hate it.” 

Azriel stared at you, hazel eyes silently begging you to continue. Shadows curled around your body, gently tugging you closer to him until your knees were a whisper away from touching. 

You both sighed softly into the quiet air. Even the River House seemed to be at rest for the night. The usual background hum of cooking and cleaning were absent. It was just you and the Shadowsinger. 

“How are things going? With the book?” 

You slipped your hand through the slit in your robes and pulled it out. The gold chain rustled, glowing faintly from your touch. 

“It’s going.” You shoved the book back out of sight. You couldn’t even stand to look at it after the hours you’d spent agonizing over its pages. “Rhysand’s been teaching me to contain my power better. I can actually touch some things now.” 

But not him. Still not him. And it was killing you. 

Azriel gave another one of his small smiles. The ones that never failed to make the world a smaller, more manageable place. “That’s good.”

“I just… this may sound silly but, I’m not used to things being this hard. With my powers a lot of things just sort of came naturally for me. But now people are dying and I’m just sitting here on this very expensive couch and I can’t do the thing I was brought here to do and I… I don’t like feeling this useless.” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. He closed the space between you even more, shadows hovering over your face in silent permission. When you didn’t pull away they brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen over your face with a cool, silky touch. 

Azriel was all calm darkness and you imagined that if you reached out to touch his chest your hand might just slip through him like he wasn’t there at all. He seemed too good to be real. 

But he was real, and he was sitting close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath fan your cheeks. 

“You’re not useless. Never believe that. Not even for a second. And even if you were useless, it wouldn’t matter. You’re worth more than the things you can do, remember?”

“I remember.” Your voice was quiet and thick. 

You rested your cheek in the crook of your arm as you gazed at him wearily. 

Azriel kept his hands out in the open, one hand reaching across the couch cushions before stopping mere inches away from yours. His shadows closed the remaining distance, slipping in between your fingers to mimic Azriel’s touch. 

“Did you uncover any more secrets of mine while I was gone?” Azriel asked as your eyelids began to droop. 

“I confess I forgot to look. But maybe now that you’re here, I’ll start again,” you mumbled into the encroaching dark.

“I look forward to it,” were the last words that filtered through your ears before you fell asleep to the untranslatable whispers of shadows. 

Nyx bounded down the stairs, leaping the last six steps before landing soundlessly on the floor with a soft bend of his knees — just like Azriel had taught him. Feyre gave a proud nod before ruffling his ebony hair and Rhysand beamed. 

Let me. Feyre adjusted the wrappings around Rhys’s chest that kept Velaria’s plump body swaddled and comfortable. Her pink lips opened in a yawn that had both mates sighing. 

“Uncle Az!” Nyx raced forward towards the sitting room and then froze, mouth opened in a surprised oh.

Azriel slept like the dead on the floor, chest rising and falling with the beat of his gentle breath. You lay stretched out on the couch, one arm propped beneath your head and the other dangling over your waist and off the cushions. Your fingers swayed an inch above Azriel’s chest, shadows swimming over his torso and creeping up your arms so that even in sleep you were connected to one another. 

Feyre gasped softly at the picture. The sunlight blanketing the both of you in peach fuzz. The faint uptick of Azriel’s lips and the smoothness of his brow. The way you looked like you were bleeding into him. The black of his shadows and your robes. 

Rhysand rubbed Nyx’s shoulder and kissed Feyre’s cheek.

Let them sleep, Nyx. We’ll get breakfast at Huth’s today.

Nyx let his parents lead him towards the door without protest. He’d never seen Uncle Az sleep so soundly in his life. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Yeah... this slow burn is burning... but I just love it so much and I love writing all the sweet little moments they have and their conversations with one another and I hope you're enjoying it as well.

[sad-endings-suck]

I have seen exactly 1 episode of Blue Eye Samurai and I am gobsmacked by how amazing it is. Mizu is already my everything. I am almost never so deeply invested so quickly in any media. I am obsessed. If the rest of the show is consistent in quality with the first episode then this show is Arcane level incredible, and I do not say that lightly.

[alicentsaegon]

Lucien Vanserra and Elain Archeron

[haydardotjpg]

🌳🌊 happiness 💚💙

their height difference is perfect for taigen to give mizu nose kisses :]

[humbuns]

late night visits

[finemealprompt]

DP x DC Prompt #60

Alfred does not fear death. He knows what awaits on the other side, so why should he fear it? After all, he's been married to a being of death for a long time.

[saetoshis]

i think my friend of 4 years is abt to confess to me soon

[castielsprostate]

i think waiting for new fics to be uploaded is actually hell and the worst part about being alive. we don't thank fic writers enough for all they do, like hello????????? they're literally carrying all of us on brink of a mental breakdown

[choccy-milky]

writing and sketching smut scenes that wont even be in my fic for a while instead of editing chapter 12 bc i escaped horny jail🙈🙈DONT LOOK AT ME I SWEAR ILL GO TO CHURCH SOON😇🙏

[kikyoupdates]

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟹

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

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“This is from when we went to a cute coffee shop the other day. They have really good pastries there. I definitely recommend it.” 

“Aw, what a lovely picture,” Mary-Ann beams, leaning closer to you as you swipe through your phone’s gallery. “You two look very good together. You’re a great match.” 

You smile back at her, turning up the charm to the max. It’s a good thing you’re so handy with photoshop, because editing all these photos of you and Isaac together would have taken a newbie just about forever. But it’s helping your relationship seem that much more real, and most people can’t pick up on little discrepancies when it comes to edited photos anyways, not unless they’re glaringly obvious. 

Everyone finished their food a while ago, so you’ve just been sitting around the couch chatting with Isaac’s parents. The evening is just about over, and even though you know you shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself, you have good reason to believe that they are fully convinced you’re their son’s girlfriend. 

“Well, I think we should start heading out,” Isaac says, clearly signaling you with his eyes that he’s had enough and is ready to leave. “I’m burnt out from classes, and I don’t want to go to sleep too late tonight. Plus I still need to drive [Name] home.” 

Mary-Ann makes a big show of pouting. “Right. That’s too bad. I wish you two could have stayed for longer, but you’re both busy bees, aren’t you?” 

She just unironically said ‘busy bees’. That was kind of cute. 

Isaac stands up and pats you on the shoulder, and you quickly follow suit. While Michael certainly added quite a bit of tension to the evening, overall, you feel like you did your part. The situation was likely far less uncomfortable than usual thanks to you being here. You try to avoid imagining how Michael would have acted towards his son if there wasn’t a guest present. 

“I still feel like it was unnecessary to hide this from us,” Michael frowns, following you and Isaac to the front door. “You’ve finally found a girlfriend you can take pride in. Wouldn’t you want to show her off?” 

“She’s not an object,” Isaac scowls. “I’m not trying to parade her around as if she’s on display.” 

“You know that’s not what I meant. There’s nothing wrong with being proud of the person you’re with. Good grief,” Michael sighs. “You’re always so defensive.” 

Isaac turns away instead of responding. His freedom is right within his grasp, and you can tell he no longer has the energy to keep bickering with his father. 

You smile in an attempt to wrap the evening off on a high note. “Thank you again for having me over. Dinner was really good, and I had a lot of fun getting to know you guys.” 

“It was our pleasure,” Mary-Ann beams. “You’re more than welcome to drop by as often as you like. We’re happy to have you here.” 

“Isaac can be difficult, but don’t give up on him,” Michael says. “He needs someone like you in his life to set a good example.” 

You smile again and nod before saying your goodbyes. Isaac is already halfway out the door and waves listlessly without looking back, much to Michael’s distaste. 

It’s finally over. You did your part, and you have reason to believe that neither of his parents suspected a thing. 

Once he’s safely out of earshot and well within the comfort of his car, Isaac lets out a heavy sigh. 

“God, I’m tired,” he says. “That went on forever. Sorry. I probably should have been a bit more transparent about how awkward things are with my dad. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.” 

You shake your head. “Don’t apologize. I figured your parents would be pretty strict, based on what you told me. It seems like they don’t doubt our relationship at all, which is good. And I prepared a lot in advance, so that definitely helped.” 

“You did great,” Isaac smiles. “I really appreciate it. I wish I’d found this app earlier so that I could have gotten them off my back ages ago.” He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “Or… actually, maybe it’s a good thing I joined when I did. You mentioned you signed up just recently, right? If I’d joined earlier, I wouldn’t have found you. I think it all worked out for the best.” 

He’s probably just being polite and praising you for a job well done, but nevertheless, his words make your cheeks feel hot. 

“Right,” Isaac blinks. “Time for your payment. I’ll do it in front of you so you don’t have to worry about being ripped off. I know we’ve only just met, but I promise I’m not the kind of person to do something like that.”

“I know,” you nod encouragingly. “Just from the few hours we’ve spent together, I can tell. You’re obviously a good guy. I wish your dad would cut you some slack.” 

Isaac blinks again, but this time it looks like he’s resisting the urge to cry. 

He chuckles shakily, composing himself quickly enough. Not long after, you receive a notification that new funds have been deposited into your account. 

So, it’s official, then.

You’ve just been paid to act as someone’s girlfriend.

“Five stars,” Isaac mumbles, no doubt giving you a review on the app. “I honestly don’t think I could do this kind of job. It takes a certain kind of person to be able to pull it off, especially since you have to improvise on the spot and you never know what’ll happen next. It’s impressive that you stayed so calm throughout the evening. Most people that meet my dad end up ripping their hair out.” 

“It wasn’t that bad,” you reassure. 

Especially since I’m used to my own dad being a massive prick.

Isaac smiles. “Well, either way, I really appreciate you helping me. It was worth every dime. Also… I mentioned before that this was only going to be a one-time thing, but sometime in the future, would you be open to meeting with them again? I don’t see them super often, but I just wanted to know if you’re willing to put yourself through this torture again. If not, I can’t really blame you.” 

“Sure,” you say. “As long as you give me a heads-up, it should be fine. It seriously wasn’t as bad as you’re thinking. If it helps you out, I’d be happy to do it.” 

Isaac’s smile brightens, and he nods enthusiastically. It’s clear that he’s in a much better mood now that he’s dealt with an unpleasant situation. The money is nice, but getting to see that blissful expression of his is even better, somehow.

Even though the job is technically over, Isaac goes out of his way to drive you home and thanks you once again for helping him. He waits for you to walk into your apartment safely, which you appreciate, and you wave goodbye to him for the last time.

As you walk up the steps to your unit, you contemplate the day’s events.

Isaac was clearly satisfied with how you did, and it seemed like his parents were pretty fond of you as well. You’re not sure how long he plans to deceive them for, but for the time being, it seems to be doing the trick.

Considering this was your very first day on the job, you feel like it went really well.

And it looks like you’re going to keep riding this high for a while longer, because shortly after you get home, a notification catches your eye. 

You blink several times in quick succession. Wait, seriously? You’re still fresh off your first day of work and there’s already another person who wants to hire you? 

Hardly much time has passed since you set up your profile, but if the offers continue to be this frequent, you might not even need to look for another job. 

You pause, then awkwardly clear your throat. 

I should stop getting carried away. This is only the second person who’s tried to request me. I don’t even know if I’ll accept them. 

Still, you feel confident after how happy Isaac was with your services, so you approach your new client with boundless optimism. 

He proceeds to send you a picture of him posing in front of a piece of street art which you unfortunately recognize. It’s the same one you’ve passed by several times while on campus. 

Shit. He goes to the same university as you? That could get a little awkward. 

It takes you a while to respond. Well… Ava did say before that some people are just looking for a bit of companionship from time to time. Maybe that’s the case for Callum? He might just be in a bad spot and needs someone to talk to.

As a matter of fact, it sounds almost too good to be true, but if he’s really serious about this, then this will be the easiest money you’ve ever made in your entire life. Unlike with Isaac, you won’t have to memorize a bunch of facts to try and deceive people into believing your relationship is real. You’ll be getting paid just to hang out with someone. On campus, no less, so you won’t even have to go out of your way. 

At the time, you deluded yourself into thinking that all Callum wanted was a friend, and that there was nothing more to it.

But of course, you were sorely mistaken.

“No way!” Ava squeals. “You have another job already? Today? Here?” 

You glance around in a panic. Her outcry has drawn countless eyes towards the two of you, and since you’re in a library, people aren’t happy with the loud distraction. 

“Shh,” you urge, pressing a finger to your lips and gesturing for her to be quiet. “Not so loud. I also don’t want people to know that this is technically a job. But yeah, this guy goes to the same university as us. He said he didn’t need me to act like his girlfriend and said it was fine to just be his friend instead.” 

Ava giggles. “Sorry, sorry. But wow, that sounds awesome! Not only do you get paid, but you don’t need to do anything too crazy either. This guy must be pretty laid back. What’s his name?”

“I’m not sure if I should be telling you,” you frown. “He probably doesn’t want other people knowing that he paid for my time. I don’t know all the details, but things might not be going so well if he needs to hire a friend through an app rather than confiding in a real one. Out of respect for his privacy and personal situation, I think I should keep this to myself.” 

“Oh, come on,” she whines. “You’re just teasing me at this point. You told me about Isaac, didn’t you? And if you didn’t want me to ask, you shouldn’t have mentioned that you had a new job right on campus!” 

“I only told you because you were trying to hang out later when I’m supposing to be meeting with him.” 

“But still!” 

She balls her hands into fists and huffs—a bit too loudly, it seems, because several people turn around and openly glare at her. 

Ava flashes them a sheepish smile, then looks back at you with big, imploring eyes. “Pretty please? With a cherry on top? I just want to know his name and what he looks like. You know I won’t go blabbing to anyone. If I ever pass by the two of you hanging out, I promise not to let it slip that I know he hired you. Haven’t I always been a woman of my word?” 

To her credit, she’s really good at keeping secrets. Trust is important in all relationships, not just romantic ones, and the fact that the two of you are so transparent with each other is one of the main reasons your friendship has lasted this long. 

“Fine,” you eventually give in, and Ava dramatically pumps her fist in the air. People are still looking at her, so they must think she’s got a few screws loose. Well, not that she seems to mind.

You pull out your phone and swipe the app open. 

“His name is Callum,” you say. “He’s a year older than me. He mentioned he took a gap year after high school so he started a bit later than we did. I don’t know too much else about him, but he didn’t have any specific requests or ask me to prepare anything, so it sounds like we really are just going to be hanging out.” 

Ava studies the profile attentively. “He’s pretty hot,” she remarks. “I feel like he’s got that mysterious kind of bad boy vibe that most people are really into. Well, I personally think nice-looking guys like Isaac are better. Or my amazing boyfriend, of course.” 

“Should I tell him he was just an afterthought on that list?” you tease. 

“Oh, shush. He knows I love him. I’m just speaking objectively. None of these guys are ever going to make me act out.” 

You chuckle softly. Callum is attractive, that much you can admit to, but it’s comforting to know that you can just be yourself and take it easy around him. He isn’t expecting a practiced performance or anything. You actually almost feel guilty accepting the money. If you end up having fun, isn’t it basically just a meet-up with a friend? 

“I can pretty much read your mind,” Ava snorts. “Don’t feel sorry for him. We don’t know why he feels the need to do this, or what exactly is going on in his life. Like you said, there’s no way to know the details. He’s the one who offered you money in exchange for your time, so you have no reason to feel guilty about it.” 

“Yeah… that’s true,” you nod. “At least I’m helping people, one way or another. But I feel like people don’t usually help others expecting money in return…” 

“That’s not true. So many different jobs involve helping people, but it’s not like people can just work for free. We can’t help that we need money to survive. Seriously,” she sighs, patting your back in reassurance, “you’re way too nice. Going out of your way to help a total stranger isn’t something the average person does, and besides, you’ve got student loans and tuition to pay. You’re dealing with your own shit, and so is he, right?” 

Perhaps it’s because this job sounds so much easier than the previous one. At least in Isaac’s case, you had to prepare ahead of time and maintain a convincing performance in an awkward and relatively stressful environment. It felt like you actually earned your pay. 

Well, it’s too late to back out now. I guess I shouldn’t keep beating myself up over it. If I end up having fun while working, where’s the harm in that? As long as Callum’s happy, that’s all that matters. 

You smile back at Ava. As always, she’s right. You’re lucky to have a friend like her, who pushes you to step out of your comfort zone and try new things. Without her, you’re sure you would be missing out on all kinds of interesting experiences. 

“I should get going now,” you say, already packing up your things.

Ava frowns. “Huh? So soon?” 

“We’re meeting on the opposite end on campus, and I don’t want to be late. And no, you can’t follow me and spy on us.” 

“[Name], please,” she laughs. “I do have some self-control. Plus, my classes start soon.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve skipped class. I’m actually kind of scared to even ask what your attendance record is like.”

“Hey! I’ve been getting better lately, okay?” 

You zip up your backpack and laugh as you wave goodbye to her. You open up your phone to the app and check the last message you exchanged with Callum. The meet-up spot hasn’t changed, and he hasn’t mentioned anything else since then. 

You wonder what you’ll be doing together. Well, since you’re meeting at a cafe, you can start off by grabbing some coffee and sitting down for a chat, but it sounds like you both have a bit of time to kill before your afternoon classes. Maybe you can go on a stroll through the university gardens? Actually, he might already have something else planned. 

You’ve always been prone to overthinking, but you eventually reason that there’s no way to prepare for this, and hardly a point either. 

It’s just going to be a chill hangout session, and who knows? You might even get a new friend out of it. 

You thought for sure you would be the early one, but when you arrive at the cafe, you find that Callum is already waiting there. 

He spots you without a moment’s delay. 

“Oh, hey,” he grins. “You’re [Name]? Wow, you’re even prettier than in all your pictures. They don’t do you justice at all.” 

“Thanks,” you blush. “The same goes for you. Your pictures were nice, but you look even better in person.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he brushes off. He pauses for a moment, then his grin gets even wider. “Just kidding. Keep complimenting me as much as you want. I like it.” 

You chuckle awkwardly, and perhaps a touch nervously. He doesn’t really seem like the type of guy who doesn’t have any friends. He’s clearly extroverted, and charismatic, and between the two of you, you’re the one who’s visibly on edge. 

Again, there’s no point in wondering why he hired you. The point is that he did hire you, and you had better make sure he’s satisfied with his experience.

“Well, it’s nice to be meeting you in person,” you smile. “What did you want to do first? I guess we’ll start with some coffee?” 

“Yeah, I need coffee ASAP,” Callum nods. “I get cranky without it. It’s an inevitable side effect of being an insomniac. As you can probably tell.” 

He has discernible dark circles under his eyes, so you kind of figured he might be sleep-deprived. Quite frankly, he looks like the kind of person who subsists solely off coffee, microwaved meals, and cigarettes. 

Then again, that’s probably the case for most university students.

“Let’s head in,” Callum gestures. He stops in front of the door to smile back at you. “And thanks again for agreeing to my request, even though you don’t usually do this kind of thing on campus.” 

“Just as friends,” you feel the need to clarify. “As long as it’s just as friends, then there’s no problem.” 

Callum keeps smiling sweetly, but his pale eyes briefly glint with something akin to amusement.

Needless to say, you don’t pick up on it.

“Yep,” he beams. “Just friends. Anyways, I need my coffee. I’m basically dead on my feet.” 

You follow him inside the store, ordering your own coffee after he does. Since neither of you have classes anytime soon, you figure you might sit around and talk for a little while, so you head to one of the tables. 

Callum, however, stops you.

“Let’s sit outside,” he insists. “They’ve got tables there too. The weather’s nice today. I want to enjoy the sun.” 

“Oh, sure,” you nod.

There’s no reason to object. Spring is right around the corner, so it’s definitely been warming up lately. You sit down next to Callum and take a tentative sip of your coffee, exhaling happily as you lift your face towards the sunny sky. 

“This was a good call,” you acknowledge. “It’s relaxing, being able to drink good coffee and sit under the sun. I’m usually scrambling to finish my coffee in time for class. I definitely needed a change of pace.” 

Callum chuckles. “Yeah, you get it. I feel like people are always going a hundred miles a minute, but I’m just trying to take it easy and actually enjoy life. People seem to forget how to do that nowadays. It’s kind of a shame.” 

He starts sipping at his coffee, and you decide to focus on your own drink instead of disturbing him. You’ve only just met, but you’re already starting to feel more at ease. He really is laid back and chill. 

Yeah. Accepting his request was definitely the right call.

…or was it? 

“Callum?” 

Someone calls his name out of nowhere. Naturally, you turn towards the source, where a young woman is standing still as a statue, and for some reason, she looks absolutely flabbergasted.

Before you can even think twice about it, Callum wraps his arm around your shoulder, which makes the woman nearly pop a blood vessel.

You suddenly feel as though something is horribly wrong.

“Oh, hey Nadia,” Callum hums. “What’s up?” 

Nadia doesn’t say anything at first. Just like you, she’s in utter disbelief and is still struggling to process what’s happening. Callum holds you tight, hardly giving you any wiggle room, and something tells you that if you push him away right now, he won’t be happy about it. 

But even if you did push him away in time, you doubt it would have made a difference. Already, the damage has been done.

Nadia grits her teeth, expression turning venomous. 

“...who the fuck is she?” 

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🦋 main masterlist ♡ character appearances

[tumblingxelian]

RWBY Is: Doing Slow Burn Romance Right

[andi-o-geyser]

A compilation of my favourite Perc’ahlia lines because I’m such a sucker for them:

“She is my heart and my judgement and the future that I have chosen.” (Percy)

“Darling, take the mask off.” (Vex)

“Every time I thought I would sink, I would see your face- your face, the first time I truly lost control, and you told me to take off the mask.“ (Percy)

“You're a good person and you're not broken anymore. All right? We're filling each other's gaps. We'll be the glue.“ (Vex)

 “Never forget you’re my favourite.” (Percy)

“I’ve known a lot of people with money, and they are definitely not worth you.” (Percy)

“Nice shootin’, stud.” (Vex)

“You’ll have to amend that one name, just to be fair. It’s Lady Vex’ahlia. Lady Vex’ahlia, Baroness of the Third House of Whitestone and Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt.” (Percy)

“My heart is someone else’s.” (Vex)

“I should have told you: it’s yours.” (Vex)

“There was a hole in my heart, and I truly believe the only reason I didn't perish from it was because you were holding my heart so tightly. I thank the gods I gave it to you. It is yours, forever and always.“ (Vex)

“I just scream, I scream.” (Vex)

“I need you here now, I need you here.” (Percy)

“You still have a little blood behind your ear.” (Vex)

“But I don’t want to be here if you’re not. Whitestone still needs you, darling. I still need you here.“ (Vex)

“You’re far too wonderful for an idiot.“ (Percy)

“He’s married, to me, and I will cut you.” (Vex)

“You have given me a future I had cheaply sold away.“ (Percy)

“You allowed me to be a part of the thing that you hold dearest. And I was so proud.“ (Vex)

“Vex, I heard you. It was the only thing I heard.” (Percy)

“Were you going to fight the Raven Queen for me?” (Vex)

“I promise to walk into the future with you. I promise to build a family with you. And I promise to always be here for an adventure with you.“ (Percy)