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Chapter 10.0 - If You Give a Fae A Cookie

AKIRA

Akira didn’t know many elves—a side effect of being a changeling. But Diego Lobo had the misfortune of being the last surviving member of his House, which elves considered a bad omen. He wasn’t welcome in the Realm of the Fae, so this was his home.

And good thing too, because one night a starving teenager who had glamoured their way from Newcrest to Windenburg, found themselves in a new country without money or power. They needed someone to give a shit about them.

And luckily, Diego was there.

“Was you ever married?” Akira makes a face as he pokes around cartons of oat milk and bags of veggies in the fridge. “And how come you don’t got shit in here to eat?”

“Because it’s my fridge,” Diego calls out. “And you don’t live here anymore, Doodlebug.” 

True. Akira was proud of the barter that got him one of Jacques’s condos. But from the ages of 16 to 26, this was his home. “I still eat here sometimes,” he grumbles. “And you do, too. What the fuck am I gonna do with a salad?”

“I have a grocery delivery coming later," Diego leans against the doorway and sighs. "In the meantime, you're welcome to vegetables."

Muttering under his breath, Akira grabs a plate and settles himself at the table.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” The older elf slides into an empty seat without a sound. He might not look a day over 45, but Diego was centuries older than that and had the Elven grace to prove it. 

“I got a gap in my knowledge. Jacques has me trailing two sims who caught the attention of The Order of Enchantment. I tried to glamour one of them, and it didn’t work.”

“Interesting…why don’t you tell me the whole story? And start at the beginning.”

“Alright, so you glamoured this Miko, but what about Alice?”

“I didn’t try it,” Akira replies. And he has no intention of trying either. He didn’t even hide his ears around Alice, though, concerningly; she hadn’t noticed.

“So you come to me with half the information, looking for answers? Is that what Jacques thinks my time is worth?”

On paper, Diego Lobo is an antiques dealer. In truth, he’s an antiques dealer who fences magical items for private collectors and every organized crime syndicate from here to Selvadorada. He’s a fount of knowledge and on everyone’s payroll. Long story short, his time is worth a lot.

“Jacques is not asking; I am.”

“Well, then I’ll repeat myself. Why not glamour your other target? Make sure it’s not your error.”

“It’s not my error.” Akira can’t hide the edge in his voice. “And I’m not glamouring the other target.”

“Well, that’s careless,” Diego snaps. “You should glamour Alice.” 

“No.”

“Akira, you are no longer the boy who pilfered my silver and tried to sell it back to me. I taught you to wield your magic. I taught you to fight and to protect yourself so you won't end up bound to some sim you didn’t choose, or worse, some fae. You need to—”

“I said no!” Akira shouts, slamming a fist down on the table.

Diego startles. “If you give a fae a cookie…”

Akira’s response is a snarl. His teeth sharpen as the glamour peels back. He glares at his mentor, lowering his voice until it contains all the menace he feels. “If you give a fae a cookie and touch that cookie, he’ll cut your fuckin’ hand off.”

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(Part 1 of 6)

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Chapter 10.1 - If You Give a Fae a Cookie

Silence stretches as they size each other up. Diego is the first to break—smiling as if Akira just made a funny joke instead of threatening violence. “So it’s happened.”

“Are you gonna help me or not?”

“Do you want to tell me about Alice?” When Akira stares angrily, he sighs. “This is still my house, Doodlebug. Not even you are allowed to threaten me in it.”

Grinding his jaw, Akira nods his understanding. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If you say so.” The older elf gets up from the table. “I think I may have an answer for you. Come with me.”

They walk past Captain Whitaker, who is still snoring by the fire like the grandpa dog he is. 

“Glamour is mostly an aesthetic magic,” Diego calls over his shoulder. “Changing forms, visual effects, a suggestion of an idea that the target can visualize.”

“I didn’t forget how glamour works.” Akira shakes his head as he follows him into the office. “I’m almost 30. I’ve had this lecture.”

“Then nothing I say will be a surprise. The real reason to fear the Fair Folk, our true spell craft, is creation. The greatest glamour—the kind bought with powerful bargains and blood and bone—actually becomes reality.”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything that advanced," Akira insists. Mostly because he doesn’t want to waste magic. He's already started thinking of his glamour as a resource shared between him, Alice, and Vlad. What if they really needed something, and he’s blown it all on some rando he doesn’t care about? “And Miko is not Fae. I know how to spot our kind.” 

“Take care with declarations of what you know, Doodlebug. The world is old and has made such things as you have never dreamed of.” He slides a book off the shelf and sets it on his worktable. “I picked this up years ago, but a story in it reminds me of your predicament.”

Akira peers down at the pages. “I thought the Mooncasters were long gone, if they even existed. JJ always says they're a myth.”

“Of course he would. He’s a werewolf. But there is truth in myth. We get our power from the moon, so if Miko is a Mooncaster, then using your magic on her would work like it does with any other Fae, which is to say, not very well.”

Akira’s ears perk up.

“Spellcaster politics is fraught right now,” Diego adds.

“Yeah, it’s a fuckin’ powder keg, so if The Order of Enchantment had a Mooncaster on their side, they could give the Sages a run for their money.” Akira can taste the possibility in the air. 

“Information is currency—” the older fae begins, nodding his head. 

“And life is long,” Akira finishes with a grin. It was an old saying. Perhaps the most important saying. The Devil played the long game, sure, but so did the Fair Folk.

The information about Miko was worth a lot more than what Jacques was currently offering. The Devil was brimming with magic and if Akira could sweeten this deal, he could dine out on it for decades. Or offer the information to someone else and then feast on their magic. Either way, he could give Alice and Vlad whatever they wanted.

Hell, maybe he could even quit La Cosa Simstra.

“I know you don’t want to talk about her—”

“Them...her and him,” Akira corrects.

“Two? Well, how very Fae of you." Diego smirks, “And werewolves think they have it bad.” He starts to say something else, but Captain Whitaker begins barking. “Confirm Miko is what you think before running off half-cocked, dreaming of your next meal,” he warns, grabbing a leash off the hook.

“And how am I supposed to do that?” 

“Witches have tests to uncover magic; I’m sure you can get that information, Doodlebug. You’ve always been clever.”

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(Part 2 of 6)

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Chapter 10.2 - If You Give a Fae a Cookie

CW: The barest of sims spice y'all. Like idk if I even needed to put it on Pillowfort, lol.

Akira knows one sim who can easily tell him about the tests that witches run. As the only non-magical kid in a family of spellcasters, Cora was basically disowned as soon as she hit high school. She was on the streets for a while but had a programming skill that was unmatched, so it wasn’t long before Jacques snatched her up. 

“Sex first or business?” he asks when she opens the door.

“Very romantic.” Cora rolls her eyes, but she lets him in.

“We’re not here to be romantic,” Akira bites out. Anxiety hums in his veins.

Cora turns, as if sensing it. “Are you okay? We could just talk.”

Friends talk, and Akira doesn’t have friends. The idea of it makes his skin crawl. To be that dependent upon a random creature? Trust them not to use you? Exchange gifts and information and vulnerabilities with nothing to bind you save their goodwill? No, that sort of thing was family and life partners. 

“We’re not just talking either. Bedroom? Couch?”

She looks at him like he’s a puzzle she wants to put together, but he has no desire to help her. Which is a shame, because after all these years, it would be easy if the answer was Cora.

But he knows she isn’t.

Sex works because she thinks it's intimacy. She believes after years of getting naked, Akira’s feelings are as twisted as hers are.

And he did used to at least enjoy the physicality of the act. There was something about the grinding of bodies and sweat-soaked skin that left him satisfied. But to enjoy himself now, he needs to fantasize about what it would be like to have Vlad on his knees—

—begging.

He has to imagine the sounds Alice makes in the dark, her thighs pressed against his hips. 

He pictures the things he could do when they were all together. 

If they said yes. 

If they let him.

Pillowfort 18+

But when he opens his eyes and realizes that it's just Cora on the couch, he can’t finish.

After a shower, she sets out two barley bales and they make casual conversation about work while inside, Akira feels anything but casual. She suggests watching a movie and as he settles on the couch; he wonders how soon is too soon to get dressed and get the fuck out of there. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cora wraps her arms around herself. "You didn't...uh...you know."

It’s a tricky dance to answer her question without lying. “Don’t worry about it,” he assures her, pulling on his boxers. “I just got stuff on my mind. You had fun?”

She frowns. “That’s a weird question. I know the ego of the Fae is legendary, but you can’t think I had fun just by being in the presence of your dick.” 

He doesn’t think that. In fact, he regrets that his dick has been involved at all. “Why do you stay here?” he asks, changing the subject. He jerks his chin at her sparse set-up. “I know Jacques pays you more than everyone, except Gunnar.”

“I wanna fix it up. Landlord says I can plant a garden.”

At the mention of the word, Akira’s hackles rise. Gardens are sacred to elves. He had been working on his for years. He gets up and pulls his pants on. “Got your work cut out for you, then. This yard is a mess.”

“But you said you like coming here. And you want a garden.”

Words are power. Words are also traps.

“There are ley lines here and more supernaturals,” she continues, gesturing out the window.

His mind screams at him to leave, but he can’t go without the information he’s already paid for. “I don’t follow,” he says instead. 

“You wouldn’t have to hide here…I didn’t think you’d want to live someplace where you have to maintain your glamour.”

Son of a bitch.

Akira doesn’t know whether he’s actually stupid or he just didn’t care enough to read the room when she asked him for favors like touring the building or going with her to look for furniture. To him, it was all part of the trade.

“I don’t hide in Forgotten Hollow,” he replies, deliberately misunderstanding. “I live with a werewolf.” 

Cora narrows her eyes. Maybe five years is enough time for her to know a half-truth from him when she hears it. He ignores the look and finishes putting his clothes on. Cora dresses too, and thankfully says nothing else about him hanging around. 

But he can’t leave empty-handed. This information is funding the very basis of his relationship with Vlad and Alice. He can’t pursue them if he can’t take care of them. “I hear witches have tests if they want to find out what kind of magic you got,” he tosses out casually as he grabs his drink for the road. “I need to know what they are and how I might conduct one.”

“And what are you gonna give me?”

He turns, skin tingling, dread building. “It wasn’t the best, but I think I already gave it. Now it’s time for business.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t agree. You asked if I wanted sex first or business, but I never chose.”

A hollowed out feeling opens in his stomach. This was not the agreement. “What the fuck is going on here?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

“I played you.” Cora’s smile is wide and so self-satisfied it makes him dizzy. “So you can stop worrying that I can’t handle you or your world. I’m clever enough to survive the fae. You don’t have to hold me at arm’s length to keep me safe.”

Motherfucker. Was that what she thought? He has literally never worried about her safety a day in his life. It's never even crossed his mind. Swearing under his breath, he heads for the door.

“Wait! I thought you’d be happy I figured it out.” She reaches for him, but he pulls back. Her smile falters.

“There’s nothing to figure out!” he shouts. “We define terms, and then we make the exchange; that’s how this works.”

“Not always! I know the Fae don’t keep a ledger with everyone. They make vows to each other. They break the rules for family and friends and creatures that mean something.”

“And you think you mean something?” The words are out of his mouth before good sense can stop him. 

Cora freezes, a million emotions flashing across her face before she settles on anger. “I think,” she begins slowly, “That I have information you want and I get to decide whether to give it to you.”

So she wanted to make an enemy? Is that how it was? He’s mad at her, but mostly he’s mad at himself. It burned to give something away for free.

After tossing her a dirty look, he thunders down the stairs. Cora runs behind him, shouting his name.

Slamming the door would just lead her to believe that he’s mad because she hurt his feelings, so he doesn’t.

“You said you liked Ravenwood. I thought you…I thought this was…” she raises a hand and limply lets it fall. “You told me you really liked this place. You came with me to see this apartment. I thought you were gonna ask me...”

“Ask you what?”

“To mar—move in,” she replies quickly, but the slip of her tongue has already given her away. 

“Marriage?” Akira wants to laugh. It was actually insane that she thought he’d be interested in something so temporary.

This entire situation was fucked from the beginning. He knew what he wanted. He should be out there getting it.

“No. I was literally never going to ask you that.”

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(Part 3 of 6)

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Chapter 10.3 - If You Give a Fae a Cookie

Akira arrives at Alice’s dorm, his emotions ricocheting every which way. He should fulfill his promise; as a general rule, fae don’t like to be bound. But apparently, there is an exception—one Akira didn’t even know existed until he met her. Every night he goes to sleep feeling the vibration of the threads connecting them and it's beyond satisfying.

Like “pleasure starting at the base of his spine and spreading through his whole body” satisfying.    

And besides, what if he fulfills this promise and then never hears from her again? Better to stall and do something else in the meantime.

He turns to the stairs, flashing her a confident smile as she hops down the last few steps. “You wanna go somewhere fun?” He likes the look she’s giving him—amused and suspicious, maybe a little challenging. 

“I think you want to go somewhere fun so you can get out of watching the greatest show known to man.”

“The quality of 7 Wild Dates is debatable,” Akira smirks. “But that show ain’t going nowhere, and there’s a pub on campus, so come on.” 

“Eh, I was just there a few nights ago…” Alice hedges.

“But I wasn’t there and we’ll probably have the place to ourselves.”

Which, thank the Gods. It was bad enough he’d have to use actual money. Being stuck in a place teeming with students sounded horrific. Literally—his hearing was excellent. Not only were college students loud as shit, he sometimes found it difficult to tune out the sounds of their chewing and breathing and heartbeats. 

“Yeah…actually, now that you say it, that place is dead in the middle of the week…” Alice sighs.

Akira scrambles to figure out what he’s done wrong. They’d been talking for weeks and it didn’t matter what he was doing; he never missed her call. Two days ago, he cut out a vampire’s tongue during an interrogation so Alice wouldn't hear him screaming in the background and get distracted. He listened to her complain about a project on art forgeries while covered in blood, and he’d never been happier. 

Maybe she was worried about Vladislaus? But soon that wouldn’t matter. Her boyfriend was going to be his boyfriend too, unless she was really opposed to that sort of thing.

Gods, please don’t let her be opposed to that sort of thing.   

“It’s Half-Priced Burgers night,” he offers half-heartedly. 

“For real?” Her eyes light up. When Alice smiles, it’s like everything around him brightens. He’s mesmerized by it, which is how he ends up careening towards the floor when she shoves past him.

“Holy shit! You should have led with that. I love burgers!”

He hits the floor hard, the base of his spine vibrating in the non-pleasurable way. 

So much for cat-like reflexes.

At the pub, food finally in hand, they pick up the conversation about her class project and talk about her theories on the latest season of Tea & Treachery—a topic that only interests Akira because it’s something Alice and Vlad both like. He constantly angles his head, hoping she’ll notice his ears, but it doesn’t give him the reaction he wanted.

“Do you have a migraine?” she asks.

“What?”

Alice squints. “You keep turning your head. That’s what I do when I have a migraine.”

“No, I don’t have a fuckin’ migraine,” he scowls. “You don’t notice anything?”

“Not really.” She sucks on her straw and gives him an innocent look, but he spots her hand sliding over to his container.

“What are you doing?” he demands, moving it out of her reach.

“Fueling my brain so I can tell you more about art forgeries.”

“With my burger?” Akira jumps out of his seat when she reaches again. “What happened to yours?” 

She leans forward, causing the legs of the barstool to rattle precariously. “I ate it to establish a baseline.”

“A baseline of what?” Akira laughs, backing away until she’s forced to get out of her seat. 

“Satisfaction! That burger is tired of your shit!”

Tucking it behind his back, he gives her a look of mock-seriousness. “This burger doesn’t get a say. I bought it and I’m eating it.”

“See! Burger cruelty! I am making a citizen’s arrest!” She reaches again, but Akira arches his back, holding it above her head, enjoying this chase. For elves, courtship is a bloody affair, but keeping a burger away from Alice is close enough.  

“Are you for real?” he grumbles jokingly. 

“Yes! I am for real starving. I need that burger! You promised.”

It was never a promise and Akira should care, but he doesn’t. “Have you ever stolen anything?” he teases, “You’re supposed to snatch it before I notice, not creep by at the speed of molasses and then chase me down.”

They struggle for a little while longer until Alice groans and gives up. 

“I was not that slow! And that burger wants to be in my belly,” she insists. “And I was not stealing it. I was trying to help free it from your tyranny.”

“You are nuts.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Here you can have my fries.”

“Thank you.”

Alice can’t see it, but little threads of magic stretch out from her, begging for him to grab hold of them. They snap and bite at his skin, tantalizing and chaotic, a million possible fates spilling from their hidden mouths, tempting him to take control and make one true.

He freezes, knuckles turning white as he grips the edge of the table. Glamour is a hell of a power. “Don’t do that,” he bites out.

Alice frowns, “Don’t do what?”

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(Part 4 of 6)

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Chapter 10.4 - If You Give a Fae a Cookie

“Don’t thank me,” Akira rasps. “Don’t thank anyone, actually, ever. For anything.”

Alice looks at him like he’s deluded. 

“You thank someone and they think you owe them,” he explains.

“You thank someone because it’s polite.” Her forehead wrinkles as she tilts her head, examining him. “You have the oddest hangups.”

“Yeah, I know. Just humor me, okay? At least try not to thank strangers.” At her skeptical look, he playfully rolls his eyes. “I know I sound crazy.”

“Yep. But I’m cool with that. Apparently, ‘weird dudes with bonkers-ass habits’ is my new kink.” She pops a fry into her mouth and then licks the salt from her fingers, making a delighted little humming sound. 

Gods above. 

The Moon herself could be standing in this bar and he wouldn’t notice because he’d be too busy watching Alice increase her sodium intake. 

“I will be exactly as crazy as you want me to be then,” he purrs. 

“Oh, I wasn’t trying to flirt!” she yelps. “I mean, I was flirting, but it was accidental?” she winces, but tellingly, doesn’t drop her fries. “Okay, not accidental. You’re hot. But also kind of borderline crazy—”

“Isn’t that your kink?”

Her mouth drops open, and she looks around frantically, like she can’t decide whether to fight or retreat. He doesn’t want her to retreat; it makes him feel like she’s hiding something and although Akira is willing to put in the time (eternity, obviously) to find out those secrets, he’d love to be worthy of her handing them over. 

“What about Vlad?” he waggles his brows. “Are you telling me you like him because he’s nice?”

“What? No,” she laughs, “Vlad is completely unhinged. I think if being nice would save his life, he’d rather die. He’s pretentious and rude and likes the craziest things, and I’m pretty sure he’s punched someone in the mouth for absolutely no reason.”

“But?” Akira leans in. 

“But he’s nice to me. And he’s smart and patient and remembers things I forget. He is hilarious, even if half the time, he isn’t trying to make a joke.” Her smile is soft, “I just…I like him.” 

“Even though he is rude as hell?”

“You’re rude as hell,” she points out. 

“I am,” Akira grins. “So do you like me?”

“I…” her breath hitches. “Theoretically?”

Not in the slightest. “Humor me again.”

“I mean, I guess. I like you too.” She cackles, a mischievous look crossing her face. “You’re uncultured, but I can fix that with, like, four more seasons of 7 Wild Dates and a helping of Lust Island.” 

“You are pushing your luck.” The corner of his mouth kicks up as he holds her gaze. “Now tell me the truth without the joke.”

“I like you, but I shouldn’t.” The words tumble out and she claps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry!”

“Don’t say sorry, either,” he snaps. When she tenses, he softens his tone. “I just mean, you don’t have to apologize to me. Alright?” Eventually he hoped to convince her not to apologize to anyone else, either, just as a precaution, but baby steps. “Anyway, how are the fries treating you?”

“Very good,” she rolls her shoulders, relaxing again. “They’re happy to be with me. They were suffering under your rule.”

Akira snorts. “Yeah, very nice of you to eat the fries that never belonged to you that I offered out of the kindness of my heart. Now, back to what you said before. If you like me—”

“Do you wanna play pool?” Alice says suddenly, cutting him off. 

“You want to play pool?” he looks around and then back at her again, unable to keep the surprise off his face. “Against me? Have you ever played before?”

“I am a woman of many talents. Did you see how quickly I ate these fries?"

She was talented—and clever as hell. It was part of what he liked. He would do anything for her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t kick her ass in a game. “Alright, you’re on.”

Akira considers holding back. Even moving at mortal speed, his reflexes are fast, but once they start playing, Alice kicks his ass so thoroughly it should be documented for posterity.

It’s stunning, actually.

She is ten steps ahead of him and always running interference, distracting him with questions that aren’t actually questions and teasing him mercilessly. When she sinks the 8-ball and looks up with a self-satisfied smile, he isn’t sure whether he wants to yell or kiss her.

—Definitely kiss her. 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” he mutters under his breath.

Her laughter is like tinkling bells, followed by the most egregious rounds of snorting as she tries and fails to get herself under control.

“Okay, yeah, laugh it up,” he grumbles. “Has anyone told you that you’re a poor winner?”

That makes her laugh harder. It’s graceless in a way that makes him feel grounded. 

“How long have you been planning to get one over on me?” he asks. “And don’t lie,” he adds when she looks like she’s going to hold out. 

“Since the first time we met, and you acted like I was a complete dumbass for being in your garden.” She gives him a positively queenly look. “I like to win.”

“Yeah, you do,” Akira agrees, his voice strained. He wants her laid out on this pool table. He wants to kiss her until she’s dizzy and then eat her out. Maybe not even in that order. “Winning looks good on you.”

She winks, and he winks back. “You hustled the shit out of me.”

Suddenly, her entire demeanor shifts. “Are you mad?”

“Why am I gonna be mad that you kicked my ass? Is that what usually happens?”

“My ex was not good with me beating him at things. He had a fragile ego, and I was dumb, so I just put all my energy into protecting it.”

“You were not dumb. Your ex was dumb.” And dead, Akira tacks on in his mind, even if the motherfucker didn’t know it yet. 

“I know.” Alice looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “Believe me, I know.”

“But you felt fine kicking my ass,” he says, warmth spreading through him because really, it was the highest honor. “You knew I wasn’t gonna lose my shit, right?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t think there’s a grumpier man on the planet, but you make me feel safe. And…” she tucks a curl back, “I don’t know, it’s not even really about you. I have all these responses that are like default programming after…” she doesn’t finish her sentence. “I’m trying really hard to break them. So, I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it.”

They leave the pub after that and even though he offers to get her a burger for the road, Alice declines, seemingly deep in thought.

Akira is deep in thought, too. “Hey. Not to dwell on all that shit you said earlier, but I just want to make sure Vlad doesn’t do that to you.”

Gods help him if he is lusting after a man with an inferiority complex. 

Alice chuckles and Akira marvels again at how much he likes the sound. He wants to find her most sensitive spot and put his mouth on it until her laughter grows raspy. “What’s so funny?”

“Vlad is fine with me stabbing him if the mood moves me. He’s lowkey excited by it, so uh yeah, I don’t think he’ll be mad if I beat him at a game.” 

Well, fuck. That piece of information goes straight to his dick. “I think I’d like him,” is all Akira can croak out.

“Oh yeah? We should hang out,” Alice suggests.

His fantasy served up on a silver platter? Fuck yes. “Yeah, that sounds great. I wanna ask you guys if—”  

“And we should also invite my friend Miko! And Vlad’s friend William. It’ll be like a big friend hangout night,” she exclaims, jumping in front of him and clapping her hands. 

“Friends?” Akira stutters to a stop. “Wait, what?”

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(Part 5 of 6)

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Chapter 10.5 - If You Give a Fae a Cookie

The Gnome’s Brew Akira ordered at Elixirs and Brews after dropping Alice back off at her dorm is sloshing in his stomach. He thought a few drinks would bring him clarity. Or at least help him feel less like the world’s biggest dumbass. 

Neither happened.

“Akira? What the hell? Come inside!” Diego hisses, pulling his robe tighter around him.

“I’m gonna end up alone,” Akira slurs. “And the fuckin’ kicker is that they don’t even know I love them yet.” He pats his pockets for his cigarette and then realizes it’s in his mouth. 

“Don’t smoke in my house.” 

Diego sounds…well…Akira can’t really figure out how he sounds. Everything around him is…sloshy. 

“I don’t even want to smoke,” he pleads. “But I am dying. Physically. Emotions…emotionally.” He tries to light the cigarette by creating fire, but his magic feels distant. 

Is this…is this a sign that he’s dying?

“I had my fuckin’ heart shattered, and it killed me! I had…I’m…” the rest of his thoughts slip away as everything around him goes black. 

“Morning Doodlebug.” Diego’s voice is entirely too chipper for whatever fucking time it is. Akira groans as he sits up. 

“I haven’t had the pleasure of drunk, stupid Akira in years,” the older fae continues. “It’s like you’re seventeen all over again. Orange juice?”

“Coffee,” Akira rasps. And maybe a sledgehammer to put him out of his misery.

Diego returns and pulls up a chair. Gratefully, Akira reaches for his cup and takes a gulp, not even caring that it's hot enough to burn his tongue. “You are a gift from the Gods,” he says.

“I know.” Diego takes a sip from his cup. “Is this about Cora?”

“Fuck no. Cora is a coworker.”

The older fae stares.

“A friend.”

Diego continues staring. Akira huffs. “Someone I was friendly with who I fucked in exchange for favors.”

“Is that how she saw it?”

“No,” Akira sighs, “And it’s my fault. I was nice to her sometimes. I let her think that’s how I am.”

“Pretending is a kind of lie, isn’t it? Funny, the universe doesn’t punish us for that deception.” 

“I was supposed to just be an asshole to her, then?” Akira doesn’t know why he’s arguing. It’s not like Diego is wrong. “I thought this whole lecture was about me being mean to some sim I don’t give a shit about.”  

Unruffled, the older fae balances his mug in his hand delicately before taking another sip. “We are cruel, because we will be prey if we are not predators. But that is not the same as being mean. And besides,” he lifts a brow, “I distinctly remember telling you she was a bad idea.”

“I thought you were just being difficult because she’s a sim!” Akira growls.

“Was I wrong?”

“Yes!” Akira throws up his hands. “No…I don’t know.” His bravado fades and he runs a hand through his hair. “When we first started sleeping together, I thought her knowing about the supernatural world would scratch this itch I had, you know? Like I could be myself because sims don’t know shit.”

“And yet,” Diego gestures with a dramatic flourish, “You have chosen Alice.”

Akira looks away. “And Vladislaus.”

“Straud?” Diego looks thoughtful. “Interesting.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Akira demands, heat already creeping up the back of his neck. 

“Just what I’ve said. Time will tell if I’m right.”

Ignoring that cryptic remark, Akira rolls his eyes. “Well, you were right. I’m committed. I chose my fate, and it’s them.”

“Fate will get a kick out of that,” Diego snorts. “You’ve barely started and you’re already drinking like a babe at their first Full Moon Revelry.”

“What the fuck was I thinking?” Groaning, Akira grabs his face. “Vladislaus is psychotic and Alice seems innocent, but she’s a fuckin’ hustler. They are both gonna drive me insane.”

“Yes, Doodlebug, I hear you. And you say that now, but it’s obvious that you love it. Your dream is to be harried and hen-pecked by two completely insane creatures. You have a brat kink.”

“You don’t even know how much I am regretting telling you that shit. And I wasn’t drinking because they are difficult, which…”—he lets out a huff—“Admittedly, I am into. I was drinking because they are in a relationship with each other and Alice thinks I want to be friends,” Akira continues, “Like with their whole annoying ass friend group.”

There is a beat of silence before Diego throws back his head and laughs for so long that the tips of Akira’s ears turn red. “Are you finished?” he grumbles. 

“Akira, I love you. But you are astonishingly obtuse sometimes. You walk around being rude to everyone and their mother because ‘the fae are direct’ and then you proceed to fae-speak yourself into nonsense situation after nonsense situation.”

“I don’t—”

“You could have told Cora years ago that this relationship was just sex and that you would know immediately if your heart would beat for her and it didn’t. And if you want to date these two sims, you will need to actually approach them and be clear about your intentions.”

Suddenly, the coffee isn’t settling well in Akira’s stomach. “I’d have to tell them I’m fae.”

“You’ll have to tell them, anyway,” Diego reminds him.

The coffee is now threatening to come back up. “And give them the chance to tell me to go fuck myself?”

“Yes, Doodlebug. It’s called risk.” Diego’s expression is wry, belying the weight of his words. “You are not in love if you’re not afraid.” 

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(Part 6 of 6)

Coming soon in the next chapter: Akira and Vlad have a stab-cute of epic proportions. Also, there is a dragon fight and fae-based cruelty. Somehow it's still romantic? I'm sorry, I'm not well and I don't know how to write plots that aren't batshit.

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 11.0 - A Little Stab-Cute

AKIRA

“Risk-averse” was not a term Akira would use to describe himself. And yet, he’d spent plenty of time with Alice while he watched Vlad safely from the shadows. He wasn’t afraid of him, more like afraid of how the sim made him feel. He never forgot Alice wasn’t fae, but Vladislaus? 

He wanted to hunt Vladislaus like they did in the land beyond mortals. It felt like instinct, but maybe it was longing?

Akira longed for another fae, for a creature who understood him.

But that didn’t mean he regretted the fate he chose. In his mind, no one was more perfect than Vladislaus and Alice. And besides, the erratically behaved son of Julia Straud was the closest he was going to the blood-soaked lust that he dreamed of.

Which is why he was walking toward a glinting future—

Prepared to let himself get stabbed—

—For romance.

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(Part 1 of 3)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 11.1 - A Little Stab-Cute

Vlad doesn’t waste a moment before tackling Akira to the ground. 

“Is this how you greet every visitor?” 

“We don’t have visitors.” His eyes are wild as he wraps a hand around Akira’s neck. “We have enemies.”

That was a fucking understatement.

The Strauds greeted the mailman with a hatchet if the mood moved them, and they had a virtual graveyard hidden in these hills. Sims (it was always sims) seemed determined to fuck around and find out.

“Do I look like an enemy?” Akira teases. He's hoping to rile Vlad enough to throw him off his game, but the man is focused. Growling, he plunges his knife into Akira’s side. It’s unpleasant but also invigorating.

No fae ever died from anything so small as a knife wound. Healing it is almost as easy as breathing. 

“Hold still!” Vlad hisses, as he pulls the knife out and lifts his arm to bring it down again. He tightens his hold on Akira’s neck, veins popping as he squeezes harder.

Lust and lightheadedness war as Akira snaps his arm up to block the knife’s descent. “I want you to know my devotion, but you get one.”

“I get as many as I need.” Vlad’s nostrils flare as he bares his teeth. “You have been haunting me!” He tries to thrust the knife in again. “You made me think I was crazy! I couldn’t sleep! I couldn’t eat. I thought you were a figment of my imagination!”

There’s a broken note in his voice that stops Akira cold. “Time out. You didn’t imagine me.” He pushes the knife away and sits up slightly, rubbing the bruises on his neck. “And I was never trying to make you feel crazy. That wasn’t my intent. You should not have seen me but I guess that was my bad.”

Gently, as if he hadn't just been trying to slit Akira's throat, Vlad reaches down and strokes the tips of Akira’s ears. “You are far prettier up close than I imagined,” he murmurs.

Akira shifts, suppressing a groan. This isn’t a great location for sex, but Vlad is literally sitting on his dick and looking at him like—

“Can I behead you?”

“What the fuck? No! Get off me!”

Vlad rolls to his feet and pockets the knife in one smooth movement. “I wasn’t asking permission. I just wanted to know if it was a viable method for killing you.”

The fucking ego on this guy.

“I am not telling you how to kill me,” Akira bites out. “In what universe would I pop into your yard to give you a crash course on how to eliminate me?”

“In the same universe where you’ve been hiding in the bushes like a rockstar cosplaying an assassin.”

“Excuse me?”

Vlad tilts his head, his eyes glinting silver in the moonlight. He really is gorgeous. “You’re wearing leather pants.” 

Akira feels a blush rising at his blatant stare. “There is nothing wrong with leather pants. I don’t know why you would bring that up.”

Vlad doesn’t agree or disagree, he simply lunges. And that’s how Akira learns the sim is fast. 

Preternaturally so.

His momentum works against him, though. As he twists, Vlad’s knees hit the pallet of construction bags behind him and he falls backward.

Akira dives after him, taking one blow to the jaw before dodging a second. “Are you finished?” he grounds out.

“No. I am just getting started. I could do this all night.” 

The combination of conviction and breathlessness sends Akira’s pulse racing. “Yeah, I could too, but I think we’ve got better ways to pass the time.” 

“Do you want a weapon?” Vlad purrs, but Akira has learned his lesson. The man could go from seduction to murder in under 60 seconds. He doesn’t relinquish his position, gripping Vlad’s thigh before he can kick out.

"Nope. And you’re not gonna kill me because you’re gonna date me."

“Date you?” Vlad goes still. “I’m flattered, but I couldn’t possibly. I’m already seeing someone.”

Leaning down until his lips are nearly by Vlad's ear, Akira whispers, “I know. She’s gonna date me too.”

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(Part 2 of 3)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 11.2 - A Little Stab-Cute

“How do you know I'm seeing someone?” Vlad asks after Akira helps him up. "And how do you know they'll date you?" he adds, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Because I know Alice.”

The change in Vlad's body language is instantaneous. His expression darkens. “Specify that you mean her no harm.” 

It’s too early to get excited over word play—the most basic fact about the fae is that their word is their bond. “I see someone has been doing their reading,” Akira smirks.

“Of course.” Vlad looks offended. "Specificity is important. Everything is a potential negotiation." He takes in Akira's expression with an airy wave of his hand. "Don't look so shocked. I wasn't raised by wolves, you know."

No, he was a bloodthirsty lunatic with impeccable manners and a complete disregard for other beings. If Akira didn't know any better, he'd say Vlad was raised by fae. “You want me to specify that I won’t harm Alice, but you’re planning to harm me?”

“Not harm,” Vlad corrects with a pleasant smile. “Kill.”

“Even though I’m friends with Alice?”

“Alice has never mentioned a pointy-eared friend. In fact, she hasn’t mentioned any new friends at all.”

Akira grinds his jaw. How many fucking weirdos was she meeting regular basis that she never mentioned? He wasn't a threat, but one of them could be. She should be in the habit of telling her completely psychotic boyfriend—soon to be two psychotic boyfriends, everything.

Plus Vlad seemed like a gossip, so frankly, this development was shocking.

“You know everything about Alice?” 

“I know she wouldn’t have friends who would try to get me to cheat on her.”

“It’s not cheating if we are all dating each other.”

“Like a throuple?” His eyes go wide. “I don’t see how that would work.”

“Oh, yeah?” Akira crosses his arms over his chest. “Give me a good reason beyond Alice saying no and you can have an out.”

“My interest in sims is like the wind. And I already love what?” He ticks off on his fingers, “Nine—ten sims now, including Alice. I can’t imagine adding one more to that list. How would I keep track?”

“Easy. You can count higher than ten and I’m not a sim.”

“Counterpoint—”

“No.” Akira rolls his eyes. “If you didn’t want to be in this relationship, you should’ve made a better argument up front.”

A sullen look crosses Vlad's face. “I was distracted by wanting to behead you.”

“Not my problem. Do you have anyone besides Alice I should know about? Because no you do not.”

He huffs. “That’s an odd sentiment for someone who wants Alice and I to have an open relationship.”

“An open what? No.” Akira shakes his head. “We are not opening anything. There is me, there is you, and there is Alice in a single relationship. One. No other motherfuckers invited.”

“Oh.” He frowns, “There’s only Alice. And you, assuming I don’t cut your throat.”

“Enough,” Akira gives him a flat look. “I already let you stab me and now you want something else?”

Suddenly, the air shifts. Vlad slides his hands into his pockets, his gaze trained on the horizon as if this entire conversation no longer interests him. “You should go."

Akira can smell the electricity in the air, sense the danger, and still, he can't fathom leaving. "What the fuck is going on?" He presses when Vlad doesn't answer. "Is this about Alice? I vow I don't mean her any harm. I was making you wait because you were being a brat but—"

"You're not even bleeding!"

Akira is stunned. "What?"

"Of course you don't mean Alice any harm!" he shouts. "You wouldn't be standing in my yard otherwise. You're here because you know my devotion. I would let Alice stab me. But you dangle body, blood, and bone and give me nothing!"

Body, blood, and bone. Even before Diego explained how the fae declared love, it was something in Akira knew too. "Where did you learn that? Did your parents teach you? Did somebody else?"

He scowls. "Why would they teach me something I already fucking know?"

The words hang jagged in the air their meaning weaving a kind of magic Vlad can't possibly know he's doing. He isn't a sim. He can't be.

"Okay, that was my bad. I should have let you leave a scar."

Vlad sniffs. The air changes again—jagged edges become soft as something opens up. "Yes, well, even so. I can't really embark on something like this if I don't have clarity. I need to be satisfied."

The corner of Akira's mouth kicks up. "Yeah you do. Actually, you can have all the satisfaction you want, if…"

“If?” Vlad leans forward, his muscles tense. He blinks and something decidedly monstrous blinks back.

“If you can catch me,” Akira winks and teleports away just as Vlad’s fingers brush his coat. 

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(Part 3 of 3)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 12.0 - Brain Drain

Spending time with Vladislaus was exhausting and thrilling. For someone supposedly in law school the sim—creature? Whatever he was—had all the free time in the world. 

Akira had plucked throwing stars out of walls, endured two attempted beheadings, dodged arrows—

And then allowed them to hit when Vladislaus pouted.

Vlad didn’t want to talk to Alice until he was sure, so Akira didn’t mention it when she called, which was so often that he would be suspicious if Vladislaus didn’t seem incapable of lying.

Oh, he writhed around the truth like a true connoisseur of glamour, something Akira was very interested in figuring out. But he didn’t outright lie. It was a relief. And a mystery, since Vlad seemed to truly believe he was a sim. 

Albeit a better sim than everyone except Alice.

A sim who moved like a panther when he was being watched and like a creature who forgot how bodies worked when he wasn’t. 

Someone had clearly gone to great lengths to ensure that he didn’t know what he was. It made Akira antsy, but he tried to keep Diego’s lectures in mind.

Any secret worth uncovering is worth uncovering slowly.

“Slowly,” was the mantra of the fae. Diego told him elves might spend years chasing each other before they had a single date. Immortality made rushing into a taboo. 

But Akira was raised in the world of mortals, so he had a far more sim-like sense of time. By that measure, two weeks was agony and not only because he was so horny, he wanted to die. 

Now that he had chosen his fate, he wanted the connection between the three of them. He'd dedicated time to talking to Vlad, alongside the playing, but it was still difficult.

Vlad's moods were variable. One time, Akira walked into the barn to find him covered in blood, eyes turned, staring into nothingness while he occasionally petted a sleeping goat.

After Akira gently drew him out of his stupor, he hopped up and started talking about his law seminar as if he'd just noticed that someone else was in the room.

He never explained. Akira wasn’t even sure he could. 

For days after, Vlad proceeded as if nothing about him was changing. The wild magic pressing against his skin was a quiet hum when he was with Alice, which Akira knew because he still stalked them occasionally, and yes, he was aware of how that fucking sounded.

The two of them had everything Akira was eager to be a part of—inside jokes, cuddling, tiny rituals that grounded them.

The mantra was "slowly," but Alice had just started to realize that Vlad wanted to be brought to heel, and watching them explore that was—

Fuck.

One week. Vladislaus had one more week to figure his shit out and then Akira was dragging the both of them into a room to hash this out.

And then he was taking a godsdamned vacation.

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(Part 1 of 4)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 12.1 - Brain Drain

Akira and Cora hadn’t talked since he left her apartment. “You dyed your hair,” he grunts.

“Uh, yeah…I thought I should blend in, in case we have trouble with security. You like it?” she pats the bun and smooths her pants.

“I think it feels like overkill for one job, but whatever.” He glances back at the building. “Let’s plan in the cafeteria and if we need anymore 'cover,' I’ll use glamour.” 

Inside, Akira looks at the piece of paper with Jacques’s list of items again. It includes a few magical bits, bobs, and weapons—nothing that requires his level of talent. And the fact that he was being sent to retrieve everything with Cora?

“This is bullshit,” he says, stuffing the paper back into his pocket. “I can get weapons.” 

He doesn’t share his suspicions about what the supplies include: machetes, axes, pikes, potions and medicines to ward off spider bites. Jacques was planning some bullshit; Akira knew it in his bones, and it pissed him off. 

“The weapons cache requires a digital safe crack. That’s literally my exact skill set, and it's what Jacques asked for.”

That was true. Jacques had been very specific, too specific for Akira’s taste. Usually, the Devil gave him plenty of leeway. “What does he want this shit for anyway?” he asks. 

“Dunno,” Cora replies, but it’s a lie. “You wanna wait until they close? Do it the hard way for fun?”

Akira hides his annoyance. Fae despise being lied to, especially when someone is trying to get something from them. 

And more than that, stealing after hours was a hassle. Everyone was on high alert, and you had to worry about security footage and guards. He stands and heads for the stairs. “I got shit to do later. Let’s just cross it off the list so Jacques can get his supplies that you don’t know anything about.”

It’s light work to glamour the front desk and a few employees as Akira and Cora make their way down the hall. He keeps it surface-level, something that will fade on its own. Anything more substantial, and the sims would lose all track of themselves.

They slip into one of the computer stations so Cora can hack the system and get them into the server room. While she works, Akira takes in their surroundings. “How long is this gonna take?”

Her shoulders tighten. “As long as it needs to. Just have patience. It’s not like we’re in danger.”

Patience was not something Akira had a lot of right now. Vlad chased him with sharp weapons so often he was practically becoming a pincushion, and he'd started watching some zombie TV show with Alice over the phone.

To put it simply, his bloodlust was at an all time high.

If he wasn't thinking about pulling Vlad down for a kiss when he got tackled to the ground, he was fantasizing about scraping the sharp of his teeth against Alice's neck while they cuddled on the couch.

After what feels like ten thousand years, Cora gives him the signal and he follows her to the elevators.

“I shouldn’t have lied,” she says when they reach the safe. She sets her laptop down on a side table. “I’m sor—”

“Don’t,” Akira warns. “Don’t apologize to me. Don’t give me anything that lets me bind you.”

She halts. “But why? We’re friends, and I owe you, right? That’s how it works. You’ve been telling me forever that things have to be a transaction. It has to be a trade, but I didn’t get it. I never gave you something of myself, so how could you trust me?”

The answer was that he never would. “I said no,” he bites out. 

“I’m sorry,” Cora’s expression is hopeful, “Seriously, I am so, so sorry I lied to you.”

When she reaches for him, he grabs her chin. The power floods him, and he can taste everything: her fear, her desire, and her utter lack of understanding. “Stupid,” he hisses. 

“Akira, I—”

"Shut up."

Her mouth clamps shut. 

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(Part 2 of 4)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 12.2 - Brain Drain

“Do you feel that?” Akira purrs. “That’s me having complete control over you. I am in your pores, your nerves, I’m in your fuckin’ cells. And you, because you are stupid and you don’t know a fuckin' thing, didn’t even define the terms of your offer. So you know who determines when you’re done being sorry?” 

She shakes her head; a tear slips down her face. 

“Me.”

The magic coursing through his veins amplifies so much he’s nearly drunk on it. A binding without terms? He could feed on her life force until she ground down to nothing, until she was dust.

“Fae dream of deals like this,” he murmurs, stepping back with a flick of his hand to send her dancing. 

“All myths have a little truth,” he sings, the words rough and jagged as they carve along the grooves of her brain. “The stories of beautiful fairies calling fuckwit mortals to twirl and spin until the sun comes up?” He turns his wrist, and Cora slips, twisting her ankle. “A kind of truth.”

Joy powered fae magic, but misery and pain did, too—and they did a better job. Being a powerful fae with a strong glamour was a bloody business. 

Cora cries out as she slumps against the wall. Akira kneels, watching her writhe in pain. “Are you listening?”

“Y-yes,” she rasps.

“Good. Don’t trust a fae. Don’t make deals with us and don’t play games; if we come to your house looking for help, appease us and send us on our way. And if you cross a fae, if you piss them off, then hope that they cut off a limb or take your teeth as payment. And don’t ever let yourself be bound. Nod if you understand.”

She swallows a sob and nods. 

“Now, show me what the witches did to test your magic, and I’ll consider this vow fulfilled.” 

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(Part 3 of 4)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 13.0 - Payback's A Dragon

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(Part 1 of 4)

(lol this is my first time doing this! Shout out to @aheathen-conceivably for the tutorial. Can't wait to see what I can do once I'm better at it...😈)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 13.1 - Payback's A Dragon

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(Part 2 of 4)

[TRANSCRIPT]

Rygho: Fool of a boy. What do they say of dragons anymore? Does he think I am called the Life Taker for nothing? I should finish him.

Time: No one is denying you have the right, Rygho. 

The Universe: Certainly not me. “Fuck around and find out” is a universal law.  

Rygho: I can feel a “but” coming…

The Universe: But Akira is the child of our children, so in a way, we are like grandparents: soft-hearted, long-suffering—

Rygho: Meddling, you mean.

Time: Not exactly. Think of it like he owes us money and we can’t collect from his corpse.

Rygho: You want me to do a favor for the children of your spoiled creations and deny myself the blood I’m owed.

The Universe: No, we want you to do a favor for yourself. Akira is…well, let us say, he is on The Hunt’s good side. 

Rygho: Does The Hunt have a good side? I have seen the rivers run red. Counted the corpses. Heard the banshee cry for the fallen. My memory is long. And yet you two act like you have no control—

The Universe: Oh, it’s not acting. We don’t.

Rygho: Please. You fritter around weaving fates and stories, treating this world like a playpen for your wayward progeny. 

Time: Watch it. Ancient as you are, Rygho, there were still a thousand worlds before you were born.

Time: We have seen to each one—ensuring the things that are, building the things that must be. If I were you, hatchling, I would heed our warnings. We’ve bargained with The Hunt, but if you think you can strike a better deal, then be our guest. 

The Universe: She’ll talk, you know. Soon, everyone will know we don’t command The Hunt.  

Time: Then they are welcome to the knowledge, for whatever good it will do them. We can’t control what we did not make. 

The Universe: And remind me again why we made dragons.

Time: We were bored, my love.

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 13.2 - Payback's A Dragon

Akira drags himself through the park and leans against a streetlamp, trying to get his bearings straight. He’s almost home. If he could scrape some magic together, he could simply teleport, but the fight scraped that barrel mostly dry.

Fuckin’ ambush. Cora was obviously more than pissed. She screwed him on purpose, sending him to take on a godsdamned dragon.

Literally, what the fuck?

The warmth from the lamp gives him a little relief. Gods, what he wouldn’t do for a fire. The fae were built for spring and summer—the nights when the breeze was warm, the days that left you sun-kissed. Fall was a headache. Winter was hell. How can anyone scrape together magic when they’re fuckin’ freezing?

He gets as far as the fountain before he slides to the ground, limbs loose. Sleep is not just nipping at his heels; it's enveloping his whole body. 

Minutes pass…hours? A foot nudges his bruised thigh. His eyes flash open to find Vladislaus standing over him. 

“You can’t possibly think sleeping out here is appropriate.” He tilts his head, gaze assessing. “What happened to you?” 

“I fought a dragon.”

“They exist?” Surprise flits across his face before he shakes his head as if to clear it. “Nevermind, of course they do. You exist. Did you win?”

Akira tries to snort, but it comes out as a wheeze. One of his lungs must be punctured. “Do I look like I won?”

Vlad shrugs. “You look like someone who took on a fight you were obviously ill-equipped for. I imagine dragons have a very scorched earth approach to physical altercations.”

“It was an ambush,” he feels inclined to point out. “And dragons are universally assholes.”

Vlad kneels and pokes at a sore spot on Akira’s chest. “And which dragon did this to you?” he asks softly.

Warmth starts at the base of his spine and spreads upward. “Sweet of you to worry,” Akira mumbles with a smile.

Sleep takes over again. Peace lasts a few minutes before Vlad—the fuckin’ psycho—hauls him up and over his shoulder. “Which of these neoclassical monstrosities is your house?” 

Ribs protesting, Akira points. And to his credit, Vlad takes him home. 

And chastises him about not locking his door.

And complains about the light that makes the buzzing sound that everyone acts like they can’t hear, but Akira can and it pisses him off. 

By the time Vlad gets to JJ’s sneakers in the hall, he is beside himself.

“It’s a tripping hazard,” he grumbles as he drops Akira onto his bed. 

“You coulda broke my fuckin’ ribs carrying me like that, and you’re concerned about a fall?”

Vlad frowns. “Your ribs aren’t broken. I can hear them mending.”

That was alarming. "What are you?" Akira rasps.

"Annoyed. I thought tonight was going to be sexier than this. I brought a sword."

Akira isn't sure if he laughs. It takes the tail-end of his magic to heal the worst of his internal injuries and then he's out cold again.

Time slips, and Vlad returns. He sets a glass of water on the bedside table, along with some aspirin. “The state of your medicine cabinet is atrocious, and you need to go food shopping.”

“I thought you was helping me,” Akira grunts as he sits up, “Not insulting my adulting.”

“I am being as helpful as I can stand to be at the moment. Now, does the dragon have a name I can pronounce, or is it better to write it down?”

It didn’t matter what Vlad was, Akira’s heart would not abide sending him into danger even if most times, Vlad probably was the danger. “I am not sending you after a dragon.” 

“Fine,” he doesn’t miss a beat, “Then who set you up?”

“No one you need to be concerned with.” Anticipating Vlad's next question, Akira reaches for something to make him sound like less of a cold-hearted bastard than he actually is. “I was a dick to them and they didn’t deserve it and yeah, I know, I should make amends.”

“Also, you can’t be hanging around here,” Akira tacks on. They haven’t discussed the fact that he works for Jacques, but Vlad isn’t stupid. 

He makes a disgusted sound and rolls his eyes. “I would love for someone to stop me. Are you a dick to everyone all the time or was this a one-off? I want Alice to feel safe with you. It’s important to her.”

Obviously. Hence Akira’s attempts to hide his most egregious failings, like the fact that the kind consideration of others was beyond his capabilities. “Is it important to you?”

Vlad looks perplexed. Then he laughs. “Why would it matter to me? You can’t hurt me. Look at you, you're in shambles."

"Okay, it's actually not that funny," Akira mutters over his howling laughter.

"Should I worry about you making me feel safe?" he cackles. “Hilarious.”

“Alright tough guy, I'm talking about emotional safety but whatever,” Akira snorts. “And to answer your question, I am generally a dick to everyone, always. But Alice is safe and so are you.” 

Vlad waits a beat and then heads for the door. “I don’t believe you. Goodnight.”

He’s leaving? Akira can’t quite haul himself out of bed. “Wait!” he cries. 

Vlad halts. “Yes?”

“I don’t give a shit about making amends, alright? I work with this sim and they are good at getting information and they might still be useful to me. But that doesn’t mean I would treat you or Alice like shit, okay? It’s just—”

“You care for who you care for.” Vlad finishes. He finally turns around, and there’s something hungry in his gaze that makes Akira feel like flashing his own teeth. “Now you’re making sense. If Alice agrees, then we can date.”

“If Alice agrees, we are in a relationship,” Akira corrects.

“So you won’t take us on dates?” 

“Brat. Of course, I'm taking you on dates. We’ll do whatever you two want.”

He nods. “Good. Alice and I do yoga on Saturday mornings. The class starts at 8:30 am. Apparently, you can’t bring weapons, so I suggest leaving those at home.”

Akira waits for the laughter but none comes, which tells him Vlad is deadly serious. And he can’t help but wonder what the hell kind of creature he is to think that “no weapons at yoga” was a strange rule. 

“I thought you were gonna kill me.”

Vlad smiles like the cat that got the cream. “That too.”

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(Part 3 of 4)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 13.3 - Payback's A Dragon

Akira doesn't know why he showed up at Cora's place. Their connection was like a scab he couldn't stop picking at.

"I didn’t want to talk about what the witches did," she fumes as soon as he walks through the door.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t want to have sex with you for nothing, so I guess we’re both shit out of luck.”

"Is that what this is about for you?" her voice climbs up an octave. "Sex?"

"No!" Akira narrows his eyes to a squint. "Sex is the thing I don't want to do with you. This is about how you lied to me. And also, how you apologized when I told you not to."

“What kind of psycho makes you dance until you twist your ankle just because you're nice enough to say you’re sorry?”

“Me!” Akira shouts, “How many times do I have to say it’s literally what I do?”

"Oh, come off it," she sneers. "Look me in the eye and tell me it’s not a choice."

"Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't know what happens when you apologize."

“You almost broke my ankle!”

“That dragon busted my fuckin' ribs!”

“You’re immortal, you asshole! Your ribs will heal!”

They eye each other angrily, panting after screaming so loudly. "Whatever," Akira grumbles as he shoves past her. He grabs a seat at the kitchen table and after a beat, Cora follows.

"So?" She slides into the chair across from him and places her palms flat on the table. "A truth for a truth?"

He forgot he taught her this custom. Early on, he was so guarded, but somewhere between sharing barley bales and complaining about their assignments from Jacques, he slipped.

"Technically, it is a choice," Akira admits. "But the only time a fae wouldn’t take the power offered to them is if it was someone they cared for, like family, or life partners, that kind of shit."

“And I don’t qualify.” 

"It’s not about you specifically," he says quickly, and then winces. Gods knew why he was trying to be nice. Hadn't he learned his lesson? "What I mean is, I don't have a large circle of creatures I trust. Most elves don't. We're too vulnerable. Every word is a potential hook."

“I know," Cora blows out a breath, sending the hair around her face fluttering. "I've actually never seen you completely relaxed. Not even after sex. And I knew what apologizing would do. I guess I was hoping you’d prove me wrong by treating me with kid gloves.”

Akira's mind immediately flashes to Alice and Vlad. Even completely drained, he can't imagine feeding from them. And he would certainly never scramble their minds or dig around in their heads.

“How long did you know you weren’t in love with me?”

He owes her honesty. "Always."

Cora is quiet at first. Then she lurches up from the table. “I didn’t want to tell you about the witches because I didn’t want you to see how pathetic I was.”

"You weren’t pathetic."

"Spare me."

Surprisingly, that is exactly what he is trying to do. "I'm not bullshitting you. Those tests were brutal."

“You thrive off brutality,” Cora argues.

“Yeah, but I am not a sim.”

“Well, I don’t want to be a sim either!” She swipes at her eyes before balling her hands into fists. "You weren’t the only reason I moved to Ravenwood. I thought maybe being closer to ley lines or magic would break something open in me. Then I could run home with powers and my mother would know she was wrong, and she'd want me."

Her loneliness resonates, and for a minute, Akira hates how he used it against her. "Your mother is a bitch and you don't need her. You can make a new family."

"Please," she scoffs. "We aren't fucking anymore. You don't have to pretend to think what she did was horrible. You weren't the first one to reject me because I wasn't enough, and you won't be the last."

"I should be. If you learn from this." As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows it's the wrong thing to say. Cora turns away, her shoulders rigid. Akira scrambles out of his chair to follow her. "Cora, please—"

"Please what?" she bites out, her voice raw. "Learn? Learn what? Spellcasters who don’t show an affinity are put through increasing levels of stress to force their magic. But I didn’t have magic hiding. I didn’t have magic at all. Every test kicked my ass. I could have died and all I could think was that I was a failure."

“Don't say that about yourself,” Akira puts his hand on her shoulder. The only thing Cora lacked was magic in a way that spellcasters understood. "Seriously. Fuck me and anyone else who makes you feel like that."

“I don’t want a pep talk from you. My mom discarded me, yeah, but at least she didn't use me.”

The tips of his ears grow hot. If she only understood how desperate he was. "I was worried about my partners, so I acted without..." He can't say he acted without thinking because he did think, he just didn't care. "It was shitty, alright? I know that. But The Order of Enchantment is involved and you have to know something."

"Why would I know about them?" she scowls and instantly, Akira knows it's a lie.

"Cora."

"Are you insane?" She pulls back to glare at him. "Holy fucking Watcher, you are self-absorbed. Are you not hearing me? We. Are. Not. Friends. I’m not gonna sit here and help you solve your personal issues. Those days are done."

On that, they agreed. Akira is already more than halfway to the door when she hisses she wants him to get out.

"The fae can't lie, but they can definitely make you feel like shit. I hope your life partners or fated mates or whatever you call them never have to learn that."

Akira doesn't bother with an answer. He hustles down the creaking steps, ignoring the pain that reverberates through his body with every move.

Cora reprimanding him for lying was pretty rich. And she was wrong, anyway. The fae couldn't lie, which wasn't the same as saying they didn't lie.

Under different circumstances, Akira would have let this go. Maybe she lied about The Order of Enchantment out of vanity rather than malice. But he had Vlad and Alice to take care of, and being so low on magic, he couldn't afford to let any secret fester.

The trip to his garden was long since he didn't waste even an ounce of glamour to teleport himself. The trip back was even worse, sitting on a on fucking train surrounded by all that iron.

It was worth it though, because he doesn't need magic to monitor Cora.

Sims knew so little about plants. 

About their strength.

Their power.

Their connections.

A message could pass from root to root as effortlessly as sending a text. 

Plants could watch and report, communicate, protect, even.

They were beautiful. And useful as hell. 

Yes, Akira was a liar. But Cora couldn’t imagine the depth of his devotion to his fate. The things he would do to keep them safe.

He would get what he needed. Burn the world if he had to, her included.

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(Part 4 of 4)

[nectar-cellar-reblogs]

Chapter 14.1 - Dating for Weirdos, Take #2

"I wasn't trying to lead you on!" Alice yelps, her hands held in front of her like she's warding off an attack.

"Of course not," Vlad laughs. "Akira may have an ego the size of Tartosa and a terrible disposition, but he's incredibly attractive. That's why we've been spending time together."

“You’re dating each other?”

“No. We’re in a relationship, assuming you say ‘yes.’ But he will take us on dates as a part of the agreement.”

“The agreement?” Alice makes a choking sound, her head flinching back slightly. “You guys already have an agreement as in, he’s your boyfriend?”

"And your boyfriend."

“Okay, stop!” Akira holds up a hand and shoots Vlad a death glare. “You are terrible at this and not helping. And you,” he looks at Alice, softening as he reaches for her hand. “Breathe. Alright?”

“Yeah...” She blows out a breath. “I’m just confused. You guys aren’t here because you think I’m two-timing you?”

“No,” Akira takes her hand. “And here's why: I am fae. Actually an elf, hence the pointed ears. I’m also into you. And I’m into Vlad. And if you are open to it, I want to be with you both. But this is not an open relationship, yeah? We three would be with each other.”

“T-To see if we like each other?”

"No," he replies, pressing a quick kiss to her hand. "I mean, you can tell yourself what you want to make it less weird. But you two are the fate I chose, so I’m not unsure about it."

"The fate you—"

"Fae are like werewolves in that we believe in Fate, but unlike those fuckers, we choose the love we go after and then Fate sets us on the path we're devoted to."

Her mouth drops open. "I...I think I need to sit down."

Dazed, Alice walks over to the bench and plops down. Vlad kneels in front of her. "I don't know what any of this means."

Akira takes the spot next to her. "It means Fate will weave the threads of space and time to shift our destinies. You are my threads and I am yours, metaphorically speaking. It's hard to know if there's any actual sewing going on."

"Uh...okay." Alice furrows her brow. "But I also don’t think that's how anyone normally gets into a relationship. They don't say things like fate and devotion and...sewing."

“Alright, what words do they use?”

“It's more like, ‘Hey, you seem cool. Do you want to hang out casually and see where this goes?’”

Hang out casually?

See where this goes?

Mortals were so fucking basic. 

“Yeah, no,” Akira snorts. “I am not a casual dude. I don’t say casual things. If I feel casual about something, what the fuck am I making an effort for?”

“It’s not about effort,” Alice argues as she staggers out of her seat. “What if you get to know me and you don’t like me, but you’ve already made this commitment?”

Vladislaus (gods help if that man ever did a thing Akira said) interrupts. “I tried that argument. Akira either loves something or feels nothing at all. Sort of like how I love you because I don’t hate you.”

"Excuse me?" Alice blinks, dumbfounded.

"That's not the only reason, obviously. I think you're beautiful and I like the way your mind works. You frequently plan date activities that make me feel like I'm in some sort of hostage situation. And I'm afraid to displease you. It's exquisite."

Akira turns to Vlad and gives him a withering look. “Were you not here five fucking minutes ago when I said ‘shut up, you are not helping’?”

“I was here five minutes ago when you were floundering trying to pitch Alice on your potential.” He picks a piece of invisible lint off his shirt. “Also, you didn’t say ‘shut up,’”

“And you didn’t worry about me not liking you. You had a full-scale hissy fit because I wouldn’t take an arrow to the back.”

“Watcher forbid I ask for a sign of devotion,” he growls. “I offered to kill a dragon for you.”

“Do not change the subject,” Akira snaps. Just thinking about Vlad fighting a dragon made him antsy. “On what planet am I sending the man I want to date to fight a creature that just kicked my ass?”

“On a planet where you want actual vengeance instead of cowering under the shadow of darkness like a wounded animal. Tell me, Akira, are you refusing to heal those bruises to irritate me or to make a point?”

Fuckin’ Vladislaus would notice. “Oh, so what? I’m not so pretty to look at? You don’t like bruises, now? Scars are overrated?”

“Have I wounded your vanity too?” Vlad mocks. “Why, Akira Kibo, I am shocked that—”

“HEY!" Alice yells, "Maybe you two can take a break from your marital spat to answer my questions because everything you are saying sounds crazy and I am starting to freak out!”

Their attention snaps to Alice. Breathing heavily, she clenches her fists and Akira watches, with some trepidation, as she swallows down the rest of her outburst. “Please don’t…I…I didn’t mean to yell, I just…” she gestures limply at both of them. 

Akira opens his mouth and then closes it again, the blood pounding in his ears as he realizes the problem.

Alice is afraid to get angry.

Akira stands there, frozen in shock, but thankfully Vlad slinks over, curving himself around Alice until her shaking stops.

“Do you want a snack? You seem off-kilter.”

“A snack?” she repeats, sounding bewildered.

“Yes.” He rests his forehead on hers, tone turning conspiratorial. “And then we can give Akira a hard time and you can see how it feels to have two boyfriends who are also boyfriends and whether you find it beneficial.”

“Like a test?” her gaze shifts to Akira as if asking him to confirm. 

The actual answer is hell no, but he can’t tell her that. “If you don’t enjoy being with us at the end of this date, then we’ll figure something else out,” he promises, as he strolls over to them.

"See?" Vlad says, kissing her cheek. “Now, what kind of snack do you want?”

“Pancakes from Annie Jo’s, but the ones with buttermilk syrup, not chocolate chips and definitely not the short stack, because the pancake to syrup ratio is always too low.” 

The specificity of her demands makes Akira chuckle. “Alright, you got it.”

They walk down the block to the diner. Alice immediately moves to peer in the windows, looking for any sign that the place will open early and checking her phone.

Vlad brushes his hand against Akira’s. “I know you don’t think so, but this went well. If we went slower or opted for someplace less public, her spiral would have been worse.”

“So, this was all your plan? You picking fights for fun?”

“Is that what concerns you?”

“No,” Akira grunts. He expected nothing less from a creature who grew more fae-like by the minute. “Who scared her?”

“A future ghost.”

Akira swivels around to stare at him. Gone is the lazy, playful, bratty Vladislaus and in its place is something vicious and sharp-eyed. He lifts a shoulder, and in an instant, playful Vlad is back again. “I haven’t discovered who yet. I only know what will happen to them once I find them. Do you like pancakes?”

A parry and a feint. Akira narrows his eyes. “Curious about my eating habits?”

“Yes.” Cocking a brow, Vlad steps closer. “Extremely. What do you eat, Akira? And if I’m very good, can I watch?” 

Gods, this man would be the death of him. Whatever Vlad was doing was almost certainly a trick, but fuck if Akira’s dick cares that he’s being hustled. “I have a hard time picturing you behaving.”

Vlad’s answering grin is downright wicked. He runs his thumb along Akira’s jaw. “I read somewhere that elves were incredibly vain creatures. I don’t like these bruises because they aren’t mine. But rest assured, Akira Kibo, you are still very pretty. Your ears especially.”

All of a sudden, Alice whips around. “Wait, ears? You have pointy ears. YOU’RE AN ELF? ELVES ARE REAL?!?!?!?!”

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