#I HOPE I got the crown right. I almost gave him a sparkly one

[fluffyfangirl]

hello light of my life could i please please ask for a drawing of will giving mike a kiss while mike has like a skewed birthday crown on his head <33 thank you x

Oh hi my dear! Of course! (somehow your ideas will just spark new ones in my head. You will get exactly your prompt, but I did more than I wanted and it'll take a while, and.. Anyways! Here's a sneak peak:

[barnesbabee]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ- ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ

WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

⇜ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ - ᴇɪɢʜᴛ-  ɴᴇxᴛ ⟿

CHARACTER LIST:

White Rabbit - Choi Jongho Absolem (Blue Catterpilar) - Kang Yeosang Cheshire Cat - Kim Hongjoong Mad Hatter - Choi San Haigha (March Hare) - Jung Wooyoung Tweedle Dee - Song Mingi Tweedle Dum - Jeong Yunho Bloody Red King - Park Seonghwa

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @myunvillage @mirror-juliet @jess-1404 @earth-to-leiki [Send me a DM, an ask or comment to be added to the tag list]

“The stars sure look beautiful today.”

From that night on you and Seonghwa continuously exchanged shy glances, and even the simplest touch would make you blush, as you both reminisced what had happened that night. You anxiously waited for the day you would finally belong to each other, and as the night approached, the both of you started feeling butterflies all over your body.

You had decided the wedding would be small. Not because you weren't extravagant, but because none of you had friends, so it wouldn't make sense to throw a big party. Although the King, without your knowledge, had ordered the most beautiful wedding dress, and he couldn't wait for you to see it.

One day, you decided to take a peek at the ballroom, where the wedding would be taking place. You could see he tried to minimize the red and black, but it was stronger than him. It did look beautiful though... The gold chandelier lit up the sparkly room, decorated with rose petals cut in the shape of a heart, and several portraits of you and the King beside each other. You wondered when those had been painted, but you were honoured. Your heart was clenching in adoration as you noticed the contrast between the portraits all around the castle compared to those. Every painting of the King you had seen so far was of him with a stone-cold expression, but in all of these you were both smiling, laughing, or looking at each other lovingly. The King make sure to capture his favourite moments in all of these paintings, from the day you met, to the picnic in the garden.

"Thank you, Miss."

You were startled to hear a voice behind you while you peeked through the barely opened door. You jumped slightly and turned around, but calmed down once you saw it was one of the maids. She was looking at you with her big, sparkly frog eyes. At some point, it freaked you out, but after seeing them every day you got used to the frog people.

"You're welcome ma'am, but what might you be thanking me for?" You asked, quite confused.

"You've made our lives infinitely better with your presence. Our King has really changed... He said 'thank you' the other day. I have worked for him for a decade and not once had I heard those words from him. He treats us like people, not like servants. You are a blessing, Miss."

You smiled at the maid, a sad yet sympathetic smile.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I beg of you, give him another chance. Seonghwa is but a neglected, traumatized child in an adult man's body, and I'm trying to help him become a better person."

"I cannot promise anything Miss, but if he truly shows the people mercy and compensates them for all we've been through, the people might give him another chance."

You gave her a slight nod, and thanked the maid for her honesty.

"Hey!" A voice called from up the stairs.

The maid excused herself, and you looked at the staircase, to find a distressed Seonghwa running down towards you.

"Did you see the room?" He asked arms crossed over his chest.

You stayed quiet for a second and looked away from the man who stood apprehensively in front of you.

"No?" You lied.

"Aw come on! I wanted it to be a surprise! I knew I should've covered that paintings."

The image of a sulking Seonghwa was the most adorable thing you had ever seen. You wrapped your arms around his waist and laid your head on his chest.

"I'm sorry, but I was too curious..." You paused and looked up at the man "If it serves any consolation, I was very surprised, and I loved it."

"Really?" He happily asked, flashing you his pearly whites.

You hummed in agreement, earning a small kiss from the man.

"Well, the surprises aren't over. There's a couple more, starting with tonight's dinner."

Before you could ask what he meant, Seonghwa grabbed your hand and dragged you towards a small room in the attic. It took a while to go up all of the marble stairs, and you were out of breath once you reached the room, but it was worth it.

The King gripped the golden handle of the red, wooden door, while looking at you with a big grin. Once he pushed it open, the most beautiful sight was prepared for you. The roof of the small room had a beautiful glass skylight, and the stars looked down at you as you stepped inside. There were white rose petals scattered all over the dark wooden floor, and a small table with two chairs sat in the middle. On the wall right in front of you was a lit fireplace, and the table was set for two, with the most beautiful cutlery you had ever seen. You noticed a letter sitting on one of the dishes, that you assumed was directed at you.

"I, uh... I learned to like white roses." Seonghwa said, embarrassed.

You remember the first time you met when he freaked out over the white roses in the garden. He moved to stand behind one of the chairs, and pulled it back.

"Come, sit down."

You obliged and sat down on the chair he held out of you The male sat in front of you and motioned towards the letter.

"Tomorrow we get married, and there are many things I want to tell you, but I can't. So I wrote it down."

You grabbed the letter and opened it. The King's calligraphy was beautiful and easy to read, but it didn't surprise you: everything about him was very neat.

'Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you have to read this, instead of hearing me say it, but I know that if I were to tell you how I feel, half of my sentiments would be left unsaid. I have lived a short life that felt very, very long. These years have dragged on relentlessly, but ever since you arrived, time flies. I hate going to sleep and I can't wait to wake up, to be with you, to look at you, to kiss you... I have had many experiences that I thought were love, but the second I laid eyes on you, I knew all of those previous times were wrong, I finally knew what love was. And recently I've come to find that love isn't only one thing, because somehow my love for you grows in many ways every day I spend with you. You may call me crazy, but there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, and I will keep my promise of changing to be a better King. Even if you stop loving me, even if you leave me, I will hold up my promise as proof of my everlasting love for you. But I must confess, I've imagined us growing old together, and one day, when I pass the crown onto my future child, I hope it is your child as well.

Forever yours,

Seonghwa.'

Tears streamed down your cheeks like two rivers and your bottom lip trembled as you read the letter.

"Ah, those are happy tears! Correct?"

You set down the letter and wiped away said tears with your wrists.

"Yes, yes they are. This was beautiful, Seonghwa, thank you."

"I'm afraid that's as far as the surprises go today, because when it comes to dinner," Seonghwa paused, revealing two sandwiches that would be your meal "I'm afraid it's mediocre. I tried my best but everything I made came out raw or burned, I'm afraid this is as far as my cooking abilities go."

You were surprised and very touched that he had done it all by himself, even if it were just some lousy sandwiches.

"You made dinner by yourself? Well, my good Sir, they must be delicious." You joked as you took one of them.

They weren't good, but they weren't bad either, and you appreciated the effort that had gotten into them. You imagined what kind of King Seonghwa would have been if the previous King had chosen to raise Seonghwa instead of his sister... Surely a kind, caring King that everyone looked up to, one every eligible young woman (and man) would bad their eyelashes at. It was truly a shame... But it wasn't too late for a change, you were hopeful.

You spent that night together, cuddling and telling stories while looking at the starry sky, and you eventually fell asleep on the many pillows Seonghwa had sprawled on the floor.

The next day, you woke up with a smile, remembering that your wedding was in a few hours.

You laid on top of Seonghwa and kissed him.

"Wake up sleepy head."

Seonghwa smiled, wrapped his arms around you and flipped the two of you, so you'd be under him.

"Good morning princess."

You help his face in your hands and smiled.

"After today I'll be a Queen."

"My Queen."

Your sappy moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Sir, Miss, I'm afraid we must commence dressing you for the wedding."

The King peeled himself off of you with a groan (but not before kissing you). He helped you get up, and the two of you followed the maid that took you both to your assigned fitting rooms. Seonghwa had picked his own suit, but you had no idea what he had in store for you. The second you opened the door, you were met with the most beautiful dress you had ever even imagined. It was white, with a tight corset that expanded into a glamorous princess-like puffy tulle. The tulle had many layers, and its bottom was decorated with pearls. The corset, while sleeveless and heart-shaped, had lace appliques that covered your chest and arms, and the torso was decorated with many sparky stones. The veil was equally decorated with pearls and had a tiara attached to it.

Attached to the dress there was a letter.

'They say white symbolizes faith. I have faith in you and in our marriage. Much love, Seonghwa.'

The maids helped you dress, very carefully and with care. They truly seemed to like you. One of them even fixed your hair in a pretty bun and attached the veil to it.

They had spent around an hour fixing everything, and when you were almost done, the door opened.

"The King is waiting for Miss Y/N."

And that was your queue to leave the room. You carefully walked down the stairs and made your way to the big ballroom, once the doors opened, with the announcement of your name, your eyes fell on Seonghwa, who was staring at you happily, in his new look. His hair was slicked back, no longer covering his eye, displaying it proudly, no longer ashamed of his past. His suit matched your dress: it was white and fit him neatly, and it only served as proof that Seonghwa looked good in any colour.

You noticed the crowd in the room, but you weren't too surprised. Although you had decided to hold a small wedding and not invite anyone, you two knew the people would want to see who was brave enough to marry their King, so the man opened the castle doors for anyone who wanted to witness the wedding.

To say the people were surprised to see the King smile was an understatement, but the fact was that he was smiling, and the smile grew wider for every step you took towards him.

The ceremony went beautifully. There were tears in your eyes and in Seonghwa's eyes, and as you celebrated and sealed the marriage, everyone clapped (to you and Seonghwa's surprise).

Everything went perfectly, until the toast. Seonghwa suggested a toast in your behalf after the maids handed every citizen a glass, and when you took a sip, your body felt weird, and you started shrinking, and shrinking, and shrinking until you looked like Thumbelina.

"Y-Y/N!?" Seonghwa asked frantically, as he looked at tiny you standing on the table.

"Tweedles, now!" Someone roared from the crowd.

The Tweedles grabbed you and tossed you over to the Hatter, who had been concealed in the crowd this whole time. After hearing about the wedding, the Hatter decided he would use the certain crowd and commotion to blend in and enter the castle. Without anyone noticing, Cheshire sprinkled some of Absolem's shrinking cake into your drink.

The Hatter grabbed you gently and Bayard came running in. He placed you on the dog and reached for his pocket to retrieve some cake as well.

The King, noticing what was happening before his very eyes, panicked. Tears streamed down his eyes and his bottom lip quivered.

"No! Please don't steal her away! Please!" He begged, running towards the group with one hand stretched out, hoping he could get to the dog before they left but to no avail.

The Hatter just laughed and shrunk himself, giving Bayard the signal to leave. The card knights tried to follow the dog but he was too fast, and there was no time to get the horses before losing sight of the dog. You were gone.

The King fell to his knees, and cried, as he stopped seeing you from the distance.

"Please, don't take her away from me..."

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like A Butterfly... Ch.6 ...Sting Like A Bee

Summary: An unexpected ally appears before Marinette. The only problem is, he's stumbled onto something he shouldn't have. And she needs it back.

---------------------------------

Marinette was having a terrible day.

First she shows up late with the principal accessory of the Gabriel line's Fashion Week showing. Fashion Week! Marinette was looking forward to it all month! 

Next Audrey Bourgeois, Style Queen herself, treats the hat Marinette worked so hard on like gum on the bottom of her shoe. Sure Adrien had been super encouraging but he hadn't seen the look of utter contempt on Audrey Bourgeois face. No one could look that disgusted all the time!

Speaking of Adrien, he didn't make getting over him any easier by being so kind.

And if that wasn't enough Marinette's brain insisted on using Chat Noir's Miraculous to fight the akumatized villain. Again! She didn't want to think about Chat Noir right now because... Because... Marinette blinked rapidly. Deep breath... Because thinking about Chat Noir was painful.

But that wasn't even the worst part.

"Don't worry, Tikki. We'll get the box right after the show," Marinette stage whispered so as to not alert her parents. Who walked not even a meter away.

Tikki let out a concerned whine. Oh, this was a bad idea. She could feel it. Marinette was right that they couldn't get away from her parents beforehand. But that only made Tikki even more anxious to get searching. And Marinette really didn't need something else to worry about on top of... everything else.

She hoped no one found it.

----------------

Chloe's day was ridiculous. Utterly, ridiculous!

She sat next to her mother as Adrien walked down the runway. Lingering dread squashed and thrown into the very back of her mental walk-in closet where she kept unimportant things. Like shoes she never wore anymore, problematic outfits and lingering guilt that totally wasn't her's. Adrien wasn't slowly disintegrating anymore so why dwell on the past?

Adrien's performance was flawless and Chloe was absolutely certain she appreciated his efforts more than anyone else... Even if Alya Cesaire was livestreaming.

The show went off without a hitch. Adrien seemed fine but then he was almost as good at pretending as she was. Chloe eyed him as Gabriel's lackey, um, assistant pulled him along. Not physically, of course. It was more of a metaphorical pulling.

Ugh, Gabriel Agreste started talking with Chloe's mother through his assistant's tablet. Like, yeah, apologizing to the Queen of Style was a no brainer. But he could have at least come in person! Not like Gabriel was doing anything important besides being the world's richest hermit.

... And Dupain-Cheng was there too. Of course she was. At least her mother would put Dupain-Cheng in her place. Chloe felt herself smirk at the thought.

Adrien raised an eyebrow. As though reading her mind.

Chloe pretended not to notice. No petty satisfactions here! No, sir! But it wasn't like the Queen of Style was going to say anything about Dupain-Cheng's hat except-

"It's the most exceptional thing I've ever seen!" Audrey Bourgeois announced.

Exact- Wait, what!?

"You're a visionary, Marinette! Glitter's had its day..."

Chloe's ears rang, drowning out her mother's voice. Exceptional? Her? Over a- a- a hat!? A vice squeezed Chloe's chest with cruel precision. When her own present was rejected without even unwrapping it!? Chloe's fists shook as she bit her tongue.

"Isn't that nice for your friend, Chloe dearest?" Andre Bourgeois asked.

"It's ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!" Chloe whirled on her mother. "I've never been to New York with you and you're taking Marinette Dupain-Cheng!?" She spat.

"I'm afraid I have a last minute meeting to attend, my dear Audrey," Gabriel announced from the tablet. "Nathalie, bring Adrien home immediately."

Adrien's attention snapped from Chloe to Gabriel. "But, Father, I-"

"Do not embarrass me in front of the Bourgeois," Gabriel snapped, ending the call.

Jaw clenching shut, Adrien stared at nothing with stormy eyes as Nathalie led him away.

"I'm taking her because she's exceptional, Claudette. Uh- Chloe," Audrey stated matter-of-factly, the Agrestes already forgotten.

"I'm exceptional too!" Chloe shot back.

Audrey inspected her white gloves, bored of this exchange. "The only exceptional thing about you, my dear-" Audrey deigned to glance at her daughter. "-is your mother."

Chloe's blood boiled as she shook off Andre's hands on her shoulders, standing straighter. "I'll show you how exceptional I can be!" she promised.

Just as an akuma entered Chloe's present.

---------------

Alya was having an amazing day!

Her livestreams hadn't gotten this many new views since she almost got sacrificed by Pharaoh. The Ladyblog's activity was up. And Ladybug chose her as the Black Cat!

Sure it was weird that Ladybug didn't want to talk about it. But still! Black Cat! Alya tried to contain her grin as she thought about being Ladybug's partner for a day...

Her pace on the sidewalk slowed, enthusiasm dampening a little... Setting her face in determination Alya skipped into gear. All the more reason to piece together what happened! And she'd start with-

A burst of yellow light shot forth from the Grand Palais. Jolting Alya out of her thoughts as the newest akuma victim gave their villain speech from the roof.

"I am Queen Glitter! And from now on the only exceptional person in Paris will be me!"

Alya ran... straight for the villain who was obviously Chloe as she summoned a cloud of glitter and shapped it into a collection of accessories. The constructs restricting the movement of whoever they landed on. Scarves wrapping people's legs together or tying them to lampposts. Hats covering people's eyes as they tried to yank them off. There was even someone with his hands stuck in high heels. Queen Glitter made a giant floating scarf to stand on and took off in a random direction; leaving a trail of gaudy accessories in her wake.

Great. It was going to take forever to catch up to her now! Taking cover in an alleyway so Queen Glitter's sparkly formal wear wouldn't notice her, Alya scanned the street. Mentally kicking herself for not having recorded the villain speech for the Ladyblog.

"Looks like you're raring to go," Ladybug observed as she landed next to Alya. A familiar box in her hand.

"Ladybug! Didn't think I'd be helping out again so soon!" Alya held out her palm and Ladybug placed the Black Cat Miraculous in her hands again.

"Y'know the drill, right?" Ladybug's eyes wandered to the people in various states of running-for-their-lives.

"Give it back when we're done and don't take it personally," Alya paraphrased as Plagg emerged in a ball of light when she placed the ring on her finger.

"Ladyblog girl again?” Plagg gave her a once over. Ears flat against his head but swishing tail betraying his apprehension. "Well, at least Alya's not blue boy."

“He wasn’t that-“ Ladybug shook her head. “Y’know what, never mind.”

Glancing between them Alya filed that tidbit away for later. "C'mon, Plagg. We did great together!"

"You were okay," Plagg acknowledged. "Could've used more cat puns."

Alya chuckled. Of course he'd like those. With a -slightly forced- encouraging smile from Ladybug, Alya called out: “Plagg, transforme-moi!”

Green lightning traveled from Chat Noir’s ring across both arms and down her torso. A green sash wrapping around her waist and trailing into a tail. Running her clawed gloves through her hair as cat ears materialized. Said hair puffing up into an afro. Armor padding her shoulders and torso. Alya flexed her fingers to get used to the feeling. Chat Ombre's suit still felt strange on her skin compared to Rena Rouge.

Ladybug leapt onto the rooftops and Chat Ombre followed her lead. Racing towards the villain while avoiding her glitter. "So what's the plan?"

"Queen Glitter is basically a reskin of Style Queen," Ladybug thought aloud.

"But without that annoying habit of turning into a cloud!" Chat Ombre supplied.

Ladybug launched her yo-yo at a pedestrian and yanked him away from Queen Glitter's constructs as they passed by. "But she can spread her power over a wider area."

"Don't worry, Ladybug. We'll be- Look out!" Alya tackled Ladybug out of the way as a trio of glittery top hats zoomed past.

"Your reign is over Ladybug and wannabe Chat Noir!" Queen Glitter announced as she floated over them. Her appearance was similar to Style Queen except her crown was even bigger and gaudier. A foux glitter scarf around her shoulders. "I don't even care if you don't give me your Miraculous! I'll simply immobilize you and take them by force!"

They evaded a flurry of coats by jumping down to the street. "Really?" Chat Ombre called out. "That all you can throw at us? A tacky outfit?"

"Wouldn't be the first time!" Ladybug agreed.

"No one ever appreciates my gifts!" Queen Glitter stomped her foot. "Fine then. Why don't we try something more expensive!" Raising her hands she lifted two cars wrapped with giant bows into the air.

Alya's eyes widened. "Oh, shi-" Chat Ombre evaded Chloe's attacks as the villain played wack-a-chat. Glitter accessories flying in and attempting to restrict their movements as well.

Ladybug wrapped one of the vehicles with her yo-yo and spun it back at Queen Glitter.

The bright red sports car hurled towards her and- She stopped it with the palm of her hand. "You'll have to do better than that if- Where'd you go!?" Queen Glitter scanned the empty street, rising higher for a better vantage point.

Chat Ombre locked eyes with her for a second before a chimney obscured her line of sight. "Somehow I don't think that bought us much time." Alya voiced as a wave of clothing rose over the city.

Ladybug spotted a strip of blue between the rooftops. Thinking quickly, Marinette grabbed Alya's hand and turned them towards the Seine. Diving into its waters with a torrent of glitter in their wake.

Queen Glitter's constructs crashed into the river and washed away with the current.

Chat Ombre made for the surface once it was clear but Ladybug pulled her back. Chat's staff in her hand and yo-yo on her face. Pointing towards the magic tool Ladybug offered it to Alya.

Nodding, Alya quickly pressed it to her lips and took a deep breath, sweet oxygen filling her lungs. Giving Ladybug a thumbs up once she didn't feel like her chest was on fire.

Grabbing her hand Ladybug led Alya further upstream until they found a boat.

Gasping the (relatively) fresh air Alya examined Chat's staff. "I didn't know it could do that."

"Yeah, the Miraculous are full of surprises. And we'll need one of our own to beat Queen Glitter. Lucky Charm!"

A spotted snorkel fell into Ladybug's hands.

"Don't we already have one of those?" Chat Ombre asked.

Ladybug's brow furrowed as she stared at it. "Yeah... Wait, Queen Glitter's powers don't work underwater!"

"So, all we need to do is get her there!" 

Ladybug glanced at a pair of recycling bins. "And I know just how to sneak up on her."

Chat Ombre grinned. She liked this plan.

---------------

Chat Ombre hated this plan!

It had all gone smoothly. The glitter constructs ignoring the recycling bins they used as disguises. Snake style. Chloe was dumbfounded when she saw them. Enough to let them take the elevator up to the Grand Paris' rooftop where Queen Glitter set up her makeshift throne. Giving them the opportunity to tackle her towards the Seine.

Unfortunately, Queen Glitter could make constructs of any size. Like, for example, a wide brimmed hat big enough to stretch from either bank of the Seine.

"You were going to make me wear this?" Queen Glitter held up the Lucky Charm- "No thanks!" -and struck it across her knee.

Alya winced as the villain broke Ladybug's insta-win button in half. "Please, tell me you have a plan?" Chat Ombre glanced at the spotted hero currently wrapped up in an extra long scarf just like she was. The floating constructs squeezing just a little bit more as Ladybug struggled against them. Alya tried bending her wrist to Cataclysm her restraints but her right hand was held away from the rest of her body.

"No planning! Not that it'll do you any good. I've already won! Me! Queen Glitter! MWAHAHAHAH- Do you mind? I'm trying to savour the moment!" Chloe snapped as Papillon's emblem glowed over her face.

Alya's head turned from an increasingly frantic Ladybug to the annoyed villain.

"Of course I'm going to take their Miraculous! Why wouldn't I take their Miraculous?"

"An excellent question, your Highness!"

Three pairs of eyes snapped towards the source of the unexpected voice.

"... Who the heck are you supposed to be?" Queen Glitter demanded.

"Aristos! At your service!" He bowed with a flourish, giving Alya a good look at the bee shaped comb at the base of his ponytail. Blond hair highlighted with black stripes. Goggles obscuring his face, making his green eyes hard to read despite the grin on his lips. Suit mostly yellow with black, V-shaped stripes on his torso, forearms and lower legs. Three hexagons on his chest giving the impression of honeycombs.

"No no no no no no." Ladybug stared at Aristos, not realizing that she was speaking aloud.

...Well, that can't be good, Alya thought.

"Ha! Did you really think more insects would help, Ladybug?" The villain mocked. Her constructs closing in on the interloper.

Aristos' smile took on a darker edge. "I'm not with her, your Majesty. I'm here to pledge myself to the most exceptional Queen I've ever seen! Really, where does Papillon get off talking to such a glittery figure as your Highness like that?"

Alya blinked. Really? Even Chloe wouldn't fall for-

Raising her hand the villain halted her constructs' advance. "Hmm, well at least you know how to treat royalty." Queen Glitter offered her bejeweled fingers. "I guess you can be my underling."

Ah. Right. Never underestimate the power of Chloe's ego.

The Bee, Alya was ninety-nine percent sure he was the Bee, took Chloe's offered hand and leaned down. Lips hovering over the back of her hand. "Oh! That reminds me your Highness, I have a gift for you."

Queen Glitter's eyes shone. "A present? For me? It better be the latest- Ow! I'm getting to that!" She snapped at Papillon, looking away from the Bee to glare at the absent supervillain.

Aristos removed the striped top Alya recognized as his Miraculous tool from around his waist.

"You didn't beat them! I did!"

Casually, carefully, Aristos placed his top on Queen Glitter's hand. Point against her glittering skin.

"You couldn't do it yourself so you sent me!"

"Venom," the Bee breathed.

"What was-"

Queen Glitter froze as Aristos' top glowed; his power paralyzing her. The constructs bursting into clouds of glitter. Chat Ombre landed in a crouch as her restraints vanished.

"It worked." Aristos sounded as surprised as Alya felt. "It worked! Yes! Nailed it!" He pumped his fist as relief overflowed and- Was he crying?. "Independent hero debut successful!"

"What?" Ladybug was staring at the Bee apprehensively and that didn't help Alya's nerves.

Aristos' mood instantly became more subdued. Blinking rapidly to get the water out of his eyes. "Oh, right. You're still here."

Chat Ombre tried not to take that personally. He did just save them, after all.

Ladybug stepped forward. Voice even, diplomatic. Never mind that she seemed this close to freaking out. "Listen, Aristos was it? I don't know how you found that Miraculous but you have to give it back."

His face was disturbingly neutral. "...Don't I get a 'thank you' for saving the day?"

The tension in Ladybug's shoulders wouldn't budge. "Thank you, but I really need that Miraculous back." She held out her hand.

Aristos stared at Ladybug's hand like it was something alien. Cracks appearing in his facade. "Yeah, pass."  Walking backwards, away from Ladybug and Chat Ombre, he kept them in his field of vision.

"Wh- The- Y-you can't just decide that!" Ladybug sputtered, stepping forward.

"Just did! How do I even know this Miraculous is even yours?" Aristos asked, increasing the distance between them.

Alya got the distinct impression that he was bullshitting them.

"I'm the one who lost it!"

Alya's eyes widened. "You lost a Miraculous?"

"Not helping, Chat!"

Aristos' features twitched, eyes narrowing. "Sure you say it's yours but how do I know that?"

Chat Ombre bristled at the implication. "Ladybug is the Hero of Paris!"

Aristos gave her a once-over, his expression inscrutable, but said nothing.

Wow. Rude.

"That Miraculous belongs to the G- to me."

"That's interesting because I say it belongs to me." Aristos laid a hand on his chest. "Looks like it's your word against mine. Guess which one I'm choosing?"

Ladybug's yo-yo was suddenly spinning in her hand. "I swear, I'm not gonna lose another-"

An insistent beeping from Ladybug's earrings interrupted her.

"Welp! Love to stay and dance but it looks like you two need to buzz off before your precious identities are exposed to little old me."

Why did he sound bitter? Everything about him made Alya's head spin with questions. Not least of which being how the heck someone holding the Bee Miraculous showed up in the first place.

Taking his top, Aristos hopped onto the edge of the Grand Paris' roof. "Might want to deal with her before that happens."

Alya looked to where he was pointing to see Queen Glitter still paralyzed. When she glanced back at the Bee he was gone.

---------------

Adrien's day sucked.

Paris Fashion Week was always a chore but this year was even worse. Despite having friends around he felt lonelier than ever. Getting to talk to Marinette only helped so much. Adrien was still expected to plaster on a smile and represent 'the brand'.

And that was before he got turned into a freaking statue!

At least it's better than mind control.

Shut up!

He did not want to see Ladybug or her new partner up close and personal! Thank you, very much! But like always what Adrien wanted didn't matter.

Imagine his surprise when a Miraculous practically falls into his lap. A familiar glow blooming in his chest against all reason as Adrien opens the box.

"Hello, my King," the unknown, bee-like kwami greets formally.

There's a turning in his stomach that Adrien tries his best to calm it. "H-hi! I'm Adrien. What's your name?"

"I am Pollen," she bowed. "Kwami of Subjection. An honor to meet you. It has been a long time since I've had a king."

"Just Adrien is fine." Taking the Miraculous, a comb of all things, out of it's box Adrien stares at it. It's disguise all black and only vaguely shaped like a bee compared to the details he glimpsed before Pollen came out.

"Of course, my King."

Adrien sighed. Pollen was nothing like Plagg. Then again, Adrien wasn't sure the world could survive two of him. The lazy little jerk was enough to drive any Guardian mad all by himself... God, he missed Plagg.

"Um, anyway, how does your power work?"

Pollen clapped her small appendages together. "It's very straightforward, my King. You simply call out 'Venom' and your top will activate. Then strike your opponent with the point and they'll be paralyzed for however long you desire." She whooshed toward him for emphasis.

"Paralyze..." That was certainly more straightforward than using Cataclysm.

'Cause you sucked at that, didn't you?

Shut up. This was... What was he doing? When Adrien held the Bee in his hands he felt... Alive. Like a promise that things could be better this time around.

Adrien jumped as insistent knocking on his changing room door startled him out of his thoughts.

"M. Agreste? Mme. Sancoeur says we're back on in five."

"Be right out!" Brushing the Miraculous with his thumb to make sure it was really there Adrien placed it in his pocket. Hesitating for a moment he offered his jacket to Pollen.

Nodding, she zoomed into Plagg's old hiding place.

Taking a deep breath, Adrien opened the door. "Let's get this over with."

---------------

Adrien ran off as soon as Papillon's mark appeared on Chloe's face. Catching Marinette doing the same from the corner of his eye. Glass raining down as Queen Glitter broke through the Grand Palais' roof.

Pollen zipping out as he tied his hair into a makeshift ponytail. Holding it in place with the Bee Miraculous.

"Quickly, my King! Say 'Pollen, transforme-moi'!"

Adrien stared at her. He could hear screaming as people ran.

"My King!"

His oldest friend just got akumatized for the second time.

"My King!"

All he had to do was speak!

"Adrien!"

His knees shook as his back hit the wall behind him for support. "But... I wasn't chosen."

Pollen floated higher as her eyes widened in surprise. "Weren't you given my Miraculous?"

Adrien shook his head. "I f-found it... After giving up the Black Cat."

This time Pollen dipped as she nearly fell out of the air. "Chat Noir."

Adrien shook his head even more emphatically. Hands going up to cover his face. "N-no! Not him! Can't be him!" he choked.

Pollen laid her hand on his and Adrien tensed at the touch. "My King."

Something in her voice made Adrien look at her.

"You wish to help, do you not?"

"... Yes."

Pollen's eyes softened. "Then help."

Adrien stared at her. So sure that she'd want nothing to do with him once she knew what a failure he was... But that wasn't the case.

Rising shakily to his feet Adrien gave Pollen a grateful smile. "Pollen, transforme-moi'."

----------------

Aristos panted as he glanced up from the alleyway. Spotting no pursuers. "Pollen, detransforme-moi."

Landing on Adrien's outstretched palms, Pollen beamed tiredly at him. "Excellent work, my King."

Adrien smiled back. "Oh! What do you eat? Plagg loves Camembert but..."

"That would be fine. However, I prefer something sweeter."

"Yeah..." A weight settled on his chest. "Let's see what we can find..."

Pollen frowned. "Is something wrong, my King?"

Adrien avoided her gaze. What was he supposed to say? That disobeying Ladybug felt wrong? That he almost let his guilt and resentment make him say cruel things to his replacement? That his heart wouldn't stop pounding? "It's just... Do you want to go back?"

Pollen blinked.

"You're supposed to listen to the Guardian, right?" Adrien bit his lip as his heart tried jumping up his throat. "It's not fair of me to keep you if you want to go back."

Pollen sat up on his palms. "I have been in the Miracle Box for a long time, my King. I can think of worse things than spending what time I have outside it with you."

Adrien's eyes burned as he wiped away tears. "Thanks, Pollen."

Ladybugs swirled in the sky as they repaired the city.

"Of course, my King," Pollen smiled.

"Call me Adrien."

"Yes, my King."

Adrien sighed. A smile coming to his lips. Looks like Aristos was sticking around for a while.

-----------------------------

Retroactively giving Black Cat Alya an afro.

[the-mighty-jellybean]

Crown of Thorns

“What will I be when I grow up, Lady Mother?” Y/N asked, the bed sheets wrapped high under her chin, arms clutching her knees.          

“You will be Queen, my darling,” she cupped her face, and she leaned into her touch, “and a warrior.”

Series Summary: After the need for their alliance during the Battle of Titan, King Stephen asked in return for his services, that King Anthony of the Iron Islands’, first born daughter would be given in marriage, to his sons, Prince Steven and Prince James of the Kingdom of Kamar-Taj. Despite King Anthony’s other offers, King Stephen would only agree to one, or there would be war between their two Kingdoms. Leaving King Anthony with no choice, he sacrificed his first born daughter, in hopes of sparing his people of anymore suffering. Anthony prayed that the men would care for his daughter, and love her as he did, but a sparkly crown can hide a thousand secrets.  

Pairing: Prince!Steve x Princess!Reader x Prince!Bucky

Series Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Angst, Fluff (There will be some fluffy stuff I promise, I can't resist), Smut: This series will include some aspects of Dub-con/Non-con: Steve and Bucky aren't going to be Prince Charmings. More Warnings will be posted on Chapters.

Masterlist

Part Eleven: A Night To Remember

Chapter Warnings: Smut!: Dirty Talking, Dubcon, Exhibition, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex (m/f receiving), Dom!Steve, Dom!Bucky, Strong Language, Bodily Fluids

Word Count: 4.5k

Y/N felt as though her heart had plummeted into her stomach, as she slowly placed Morgan back onto the floor, looking between Bucky, Steve and the Alderman.

“O-okay.” Y/N stuttered, she noticed that almost everyone was staring at her and the men, as she was led from the main hall. Her heart hammered against her chest, when the congregation got larger and larger, as they walked to a new bedchamber.

“Where are we?” Y/N whispered to Bucky, but he didn’t respond to her, his eyes had grown dark, and he kept them looking ahead, “Bucky…Buck?”

“These will be your new chambers, now that you are married.” One of the elderly men spoke. The room was a lot bigger than Y/N’s last sleeping arrangements, but that was to be expected considering three people were going to be sharing a room.

Y/N felt slightly relieved when Wanda and Maria walked into the room and made their way towards her.

“Undress.” One of the Alderman demanded.

Y/N looked horrified, as she clutched at her dress tightly, looking to Maria and Wanda for help, but they just gave her a sad smile.

“It will be alright, my lady.” Wanda spoke softly, slowly beginning to unlace the corset that had kept Y/N restricted all day. Throughtout the day Y/N had counted down the hours, until she could take off the constricting item of clothing, however; now that she was faced with being naked in front of so many strangers, she would be happy to wear the corset for the rest of her life.

“Are they going to stay for the whole thing?” Y/N harshly whispered to Maria and Wanda, as she looked at the old men, who seemed fairly settled in their position, as they overlooked the bed.

“Only until you’re all naked, and you’re on the bed, then a screen goes up.” Wanda explained.

“But they’ll still be in the room?” Y/N asked in a panic, Maria didn’t respond, only squeezing her shoulders once her wedding dress was removed.

When the material hit the floor, Y/N quickly covered her bare chest with her arm and cupped her lower region with her hand. She looked up to see both Steve and Bucky were standing completely naked on the other side of the room. Neither one of them was making any effort to cover up.

To be honest Y/N couldn’t blame them, they did have nice bodies. Bodies of soldiers; of warriors. They were chiselled and sculpted, yet their skin was not completely perfect, their chests and torsos were battle worn; scars and scrapes littering their limbs. Especially Bucky’s left arm.

It was harshly scarred and when he noticed Y/N staring, he shuffled a little on his feet, Y/N could tell he felt just as uncomfortable as she did, yet his features were still stoic, much like Steve’s.

“Princess, lay on the bed.” The Alderman pointed.

For a moment Y/N froze, her feet couldn’t leave the floor, she was completely terrified. 

“Princess, you must lay on the bed.” The Alderman was beginning to sound frustrated, as his old face was twisted into a scowl.

Eventually Y/N’s feet began to listen to her brain, and she dragged herself towards the bed, sitting on the edge, before shuffling to the headboard.

“The Lady’s maids must leave the chamber, this is no place for women.” The Alderman demanded, banishing Wanda and Maria. Y/N’s eyes widened as she watched them leave, the last hope of comfort fleeting out of the door. 

“Sires, if you please.” The Alderman waved his hand, Steve and Bucky walked to the edge of the bed. They both leant down, each of them wrapping their hands around Y/N’s ankle, they heaved her to the end of the bed.

Y/N let out a squeak, as she clutched at the sheets, trying to hold back the tears.

The sound of wood scraping across stone filled the room, and Y/N watched as two steward boys pulled a sightscreen across, finally the elderly faces of the Aldermen congregation were concealed.

The fear was still thriving through Y/N’s veins, as she looked up at Bucky, a man she thought she had broken through. Images of them dancing only moments ago filled her head but going by the look on his face. This was going to be a very different experience.

“You need to get me hard.” Steve spoke, his vulgarity made Y/N cringe, as she looked down at his shaft, that was only half hard, between his legs. He was still big, despite it not being erected to its whole size. Y/N’s throat went dry as all she could do was look at it.

“I don’t know how.” Y/N’s voice was shaky and sounded watery, as her vision was growing blurry with tears.

“Please don’t start crying, we don’t have time for that.” Steve sighed, as he shuffled up the bed on his knees, until he was level with her head. Y/N’s eyes clamped shut, as his member brushed against her face.

“Open your mouth.” Steve commanded, he grabbed her chin, trying to keep her head turned towards him.

“Please…don’t..” Y/N begged, but it fell on death ears, as Steve pressed down on her chin, her mouth forced open.

Steve fisted the base of his cock, before he angled it into Y/N’s mouth, pushing it down her throat hard.

Y/N immediately choked, as the tip of Steve’s shaft hit the back of her throat, making her gag, and the tears that had been building in her eyes springing free.

“Take it easy Steve, we don’t want to break her on the first night.” Bucky chided, but it was so quiet Y/N barely heard it, as she continued to choke around Steve’s cock.

“Always a goody-two-shoes.” Steve grumbled, he relaxed his hips slightly, and pulled out a little bit, so that Y/N could breathe.

Steve hardened on Y/N’s tongue, and he groaned when she instinctively moved her tongue against him.

“Good girl, you’re learning quickly.” Steve praised, before he rocked his hips into Y/N’s face, this time being more careful of her gag reflex, “Buck get her wet.”

Y/N’s body burned with humiliation as Bucky lifted her legs up, so they were slightly bent, her feet dug into the bedsheets, as she was spread out wide for him. Y/N tried to squeal in protest, but the vibrations only encouraged Steve further, and he rutted his hips a little too hard, making Y/N gag once again.

The Princes had no shame as they spoke loudly and openly about what they were going to do to Y/N and her body, despite the many spectators that lay behind the thin curtain. If the candles burned just right, Y/N could see the outline of their figures, staring and glaring.

Bucky’s head ducked between Y/N’s legs, and she hummed against Steve’s cock, when Bucky licked a long strip up her core.

“Fuck she likes it.” Steve taunted, he groaned as Y/N’s lips tighten around him, as she tried to hold back her moans, when Bucky started to suck on her clit.

“I want to hear her Steve.” Bucky demanded, his mouth still close to her core, his hot breath fanning over her saliva covered lips.

Steve pulled out of Y/N’s mouth, she let out a strangled sob, as she gasped for breath, but she didn’t have long to recover, as Bucky started to suck harder on her entrance, and a stifled moan ripped through her throat.

“I love the way she moans.” Steve’s eyes rolled at her desperate whines and whimpers.

“Please stop.” Y/N panted, but Bucky held her legs further apart, this time bringing his fingers up to her clit, and rubbing at it gently.

“You don’t really want us to stop, do you sweetheart?” Steve teased, taking one of her nipples between his thumb and forth finger and pinching harshly.

Y/N cried out in pain, but a little bit of her liked the burn as it morphed into pleasure, the ache fading away, as she concentrated on Bucky’s fingers, pleasuring her little nub.

“I don’t want this.” Y/N tried to shuffle away, but she was quickly stopped in her tracks, when Steve swung his leg over, and sat on her chest. He rested his tip on her chin, as he teased her lips with the little dribble of precum that leaked out the top.

“Shh.” Steve hushed Y/N, before pushing his tip back into her mouth, “Is she wet enough yet?”

Bucky broke away from the harsh sucking that he had been mercilessly performing on Y/N’s clit, as he released it with a pop.

“Almost, don’t you think we should stretch her a bit.” Bucky noticed the way she would squeeze his tongue, when he dipped it into her core. She was tight, as most virgins are, and even though Bucky knew that he had to keep a façade up with his audience only a cotton sheet away, he didn’t really want to hurt Y/N too badly, or no more than was necessary.

Steve, however, did not think the same.

“No, I want to be inside her as soon as possible.” Steve climbed off of Y/N’s chest, with the weight gone she felt a little less trapped but caged nonetheless by the harsh grip of Bucky’s fingernails that were digging into her thighs, as he held her open.

“You should try her mouth, keep her quiet whilst I show her what she’s been missing.” Steve pushed Bucky out the way, before pulling Y/N to the end of the bed, and flipping her over, so that her legs hung off the bed. Bucky moved so that he was sitting in front of her, as she used his thighs to balance herself.

“Please, I’ve never done this before.” Y/N pleaded, as she heard Steve spitting on his hand, before he rubbed it aggressively into her hole.

“I know, I can’t wait.” Steve said excitedly, before he rubbed his tip against her swollen and abused folds, before he began to ease himself in. Bucky was quick to take hold of the sides of Y/N’s head, and move her line of vision to his own cock.

He was thicker than Steve, but equally as big, and unlike Steve, he didn’t appear to need any assistance in getting hard. Bucky’s tip looked angry, as white droplets dribbled down his sculpted shaft.

“Just relax, angel, we’ll be finished soon.” Bucky whispered, the first bit of encouragement she had received all night. Yet Y/N couldn’t quite focus on his words, as Steve thrusted unforgivingly into her aching hole, making her cry out in pain.

“You’re hurting me.” Y/N blubbered, looking to Bucky for some kind of reassurance, but he could give her nothing, as he positioned her mouth over his member, and pushed it into her warm mouth.

“Relax your throat, princess, it’ll feel better I promise.” Bucky tried, but Y/N’s throat was constricted as she tried to shriek with pain, when Steve decided to push all the way in, sick of taking it slow.

Y/N could feel something trailing down her leg, but she couldn’t look, as her eyes were filling with tears, as Bucky thrusted into her mouth.

Steve didn’t give time to adjust once he bottomed out, and instead he continued to pound into Y/N’s abused core, setting a brutal pace. Y/N’s walls squeezed him hard, which only invigorated him, as he speeded up his thrusts, the bed posts shaking with the force.

Bucky groaned, when Y/N started to suck on his member without him having to tell her and Steve noticed.

“That’s it, good girl,” Steve moved Y/N’s hair out of her face. A kind gesture if it weren’t for the agonising pace that he was moving his hips, “You’re squeezing me so good, gonna make a good little wife, making me feel so good.”

Steve’s pace grew sloppy, as his face scrunched up, as he neared his release.

“I’m gonna cum.” He yelled, which made Y/N’s body burn even more with humiliation, as she was once again reminded of the men, who began to chatter excitedly behind the curtain.

Soon Steve stilled, as he spilled his seed inside of Y/N, filling her up to the point Y/N could feel some of his seed spilling out of her core.

“Ah, fuck that was good.” Steve sighed, pulling his slowly deflating cock from Y/N’s entrance, “Come on, Buck your turn, you must be desperate by now.”

Steve smacked Y/N’s ass, which only made her whimper louder, her legs were shaking with exhaustion, and Bucky could tell. Slipping his hands under neath her, he lifted her onto the bed, sitting her on top of his torso.

Bucky moved some of the hair that had stuck to her forehead out of her face, cupping her jaw, so that Y/N was staring into his big soulful eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky whispered, it was so quiet that Y/N almost missed it, but she caught the wind of it, and she knew he needed to stay quiet for her sake.

“Must you…” Y/N’s eyes trailed down to her core, which was humming and throbbing with pain, Bucky gave her a sad smile, before he pulled her head down, so he could kiss her forehead.

“I must.” Bucky confirmed, stroking Y/N’s cheek when he felt her tense, “But it’ll be easier now, Steve has stretched you, it shouldn’t hurt as much.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, all she wanted to do was curl up, and hide, but she knew that would not be an option, she sighed out, both out of tiredness and in confirmation, and Bucky captured her lips with his own.

“Get on with it.” Steve grumbled, leaning against the bed post, his arms folded, “Some of us are exhausted, and would like to sleep.”

“Shut up, you got your turn, now it’s mine.” Bucky growled, which made Y/N gulp, as his tone was harsh and loud, but he held her face, and brushed their noses together.

“I will be gentle.”

Bucky lifted Y/N slightly, so that he could slip his hand between Y/N’s legs, so that he could grab his stiff cock, that lay resting against Y/N’s behind, begging to be used. Much to Bucky’s distaste Y/N was still wet with Steve’s seed, but at least that would act as extra lubricant for when he would eventually push his shaft inside.

“Deep breath.” Bucky instructed, before aligning himself, and pushing into Y/N’s tender core. Y/N gripped onto Bucky’s biceps, he didn’t stop her, letting her seek comfort, anyway that she could.

Like Bucky had said, Steve had stretched her some, and it was a lot easier for Bucky to slip in, but there was still a slight burn as Bucky was thicker. Y/N flinched slightly, and Bucky stopped his hips from moving.

Bucky brought his thumb to Y/N’s clit, and gently stroked it, slowly coaxing the girl into relaxing.

“That’s it, pretty girl, just relax.” Bucky praised into Y/N’s ear, mindful of his audience, “I’m almost all in.”

Y/N gave him a small nod, and Bucky pushed the rest of his length in. Y/N grunted in response, and kept her head buried in Bucky’s neck, as he started to gently thrust in and out, one of his hands rested on the small of her back, guiding her hips up and down, the other rested in her hair, keeping her close to him.

“That’s it, just take me all in.” Bucky cooed, before gently increasing his speed.

Soon the uncomfortable pinch Y/N was feeling earlier, was beginning to unwind, and quickly she started to feel small waves of pleasure, washing away the pain.

“Ugh, you are tight, that feels so good, you feel so good.” Bucky praised; his praise felt different to Steve’s. His seemed genuine and made her stomach glow and turned her on.

Y/N couldn’t help but feel that there was something missing, and it was annoying her. She no longer felt any pain, but it felt like there was still an itch, that she didn’t know how to scratch, and she started to whine and mewl, hoping Bucky might know.

Sensing Y/N was growing frustrated, Bucky reached between their two bodies, and found Y/N’s swelling clit, and gently began to rub in small and tight circles. Y/N’s body shuddered, as she bit down on Bucky’s shoulder to try and stop the shriek of pleasure that she wanted to let out.

“Is that better, angel, am I making you feel good now?” Bucky whispered, kissing her hair, not even bothered by Y/N’s teeth, which had clamped down onto his skin.

“That feels so much better.” Y/N whimpered back.

Bucky was spured on by this, and his thrusts got harder, this time Y/N loved the way their skin slapped together, and it made her walls tighten even more, Bucky groaned in response, before he felt his balls start to twitch.

“I’m cumming.” He yelped, much like Steve had, this time Y/N was not distracted by the chatter that broke out from behind the curtain once more, instead Bucky kept her occupied by rubbing her clit faster, which brought her own release.

She clawed at Bucky’s chest, as she held back a screech as she felt her legs begin to tremble, the elastic band in her stomach had snapped, and she was currently on cloud nine, as she orgasmed for the first time in her life.

“Oh fuck.” Bucky grumbled, his load shooting into Y/N’s core, much like Steve’s it dribbled out and along his cock, mainly due to the angle that the two were in.

“Finally.” Steve rolled his eyes, but Bucky ignored him, and was careful to remove himself from Y/N, being gentle not to hurt her. He quickly grabbed a blanket when a steward boy started to push the sightscreen back, and he threw it over Y/N, so she was covered up.

The men, who had waited behind the screen, clapped, and Y/N hid her face in Bucky’s chest, and he cupped the back of her head, stroking her hair.

“Right, we’ve finished,” Bucky rumbled, “Now fuck off.”

The men seemed unsurprised by the Prince’s language or annoyance, and they quickly grabbed their chairs, and made haste for the door, and left the room. Wanda and Maria nervously stepped back into the room, their eyes fixed to the floor, as they feared what they might see.

“Sires, we must help our lady to wash.” Wanda bowed, her eyes briefly flicking up, before her face turns a shade of scarlet when she noticed that Steve was wondering around the room, still completely naked.

“There will be no need, my brother and I will help her wash.” Bucky informed, before waving his hand.

“But your Highness-“

“Go, can’t you tell your mistress doesn’t want to see you.” Steve ushered the women out of the room, and Y/N gripped Bucky tighter, as he yelled.

“It is alright, we will get you ready for bed tonight.” Bucky promised, kissing Y/N’s hair, before he slid out of bed, to grab his own nigh shirt, “Brother, cover up, we’ve seen enough of you tonight.”

“I can’t I need to wash the blood off first, you should do the same.” Steve grumbled, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, when Steve mentioned blood, but then she remembered the feeling of something trickling down her leg when Steve had started to thrust into her.

“Let’s sort our wife out first, she’s been through a lot tonight.” Bucky grabs a bowl, before carefully filling it with the warm water that had been simmering on the fire, since they had walked in.

“No more than what was expected of her.” Steve shrugs, taking a loud bite from an apple.

Bucky doesn’t respond, just scowling at his brother, before he wandered back to the bed, and placed the bowl on the bedside table.

Tentatively he placed his hand on Y/N’s back and rubbed it gently.

“Y/N, angel, we must wash you.” Bucky spoke softly, as he tried to ease the young woman onto her back.

“Please, just let me sleep.” Y/N pleaded, she didn’t want to meet the faces of anybody for the rest of the night, quite possibly the rest of her life.

“I know, my love, but you did bleed, and we must wash the blood, otherwise you may get an infection.” Bucky reasoned.

Reluctantly, Y/N turned over, wincing slightly, but Bucky hushed her, rubbing over her lower stomach gently.

“It’s okay, the water is warm, and I will be gentle.” Bucky promised, before he gently lifted the blanket, Y/N felt her face burn once again as she was exposed from the waist down, she doesn’t know why she cared so much, when the only men in the room, were the two men who had just taken her virtue.

Bucky dipped the washcloth, into the steaming water, rinsing it, he slowly moved between Y/N’s legs, being careful to part them slightly, so that he could wash away all of the blood, and other stains.

Y/N’s eyes glazed slightly, when Bucky pressed a little too hard, and she grabbed his hand to stop him from moving.

“Sorry, darling, I will be more careful.” Bucky lifted Y/N’s hands off of his, and rested them on her belly, whilst he continued to wash away the blood.

Y/N cringed when she saw that the white washcloth had been stained a light pink, once Bucky had completely finished and rinsed it for the last time.

“Steve make yourself useful and changed the sheet.” Bucky commanded, as he threw the water into the chamber pot, so that it could be disposed of in the moring.

“No way that’s a maid’s job, and you sent them away.” Steve refused, glaring at his brother.

“It’s the least you can do, you arse.” Bucky threw some fresh sheets at him, which Steve caught just before they could wrap around his head.

“I don’t think I can stand.” Y/N worried, when she realised, she would probably have to leave the bed, in order for Steve to change the sheets.

“It’s okay, princess, you aren’t supposed to stand for three hours, anyway.” Bucky revealed, which made Y/N’s eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“What does that mean?”

“After the bedding ceremony the bride must lay down for three hours, so that their husband’s seed can travel to your womb, its supposed to improve the possibility of you becoming with child.” Bucky explained, and Y/N’s blood ran cold.

She had just become a wife, a matter of hours ago, she was not prepared to become a mother quite yet.

“Relax, my love, it is only a myth.” Bucky kisses Y/N’s forehead, when he sees her worry, “But if the Aldermen were to come back in here and see you standing, then we would be in great trouble, and we would probably have to go through all that again.

Y/N swallows thickly, but nods in understanding.

“Well where will I lie down, if Steve is cleaning the sheets?” Y/N looked around the room, not seeing many long-shaped chairs suitable for laying on.

“In my arms.” Y/N squeaked as Bucky lifted her up, making sure that she was wrapped in the clean blanket from before, so that she would not grow cold. He carried her over to a small set of table and chairs, and kept her cradled on his lap, as he looked at Steve expectantly.

“Come on, bedmaid, get on with it.” Bucky ordered, and Y/N had to hold back a giggle, as Steve started to change the sheets, uttering things under his breath.

The longer Y/N laid in Bucky’s arms, the more tired she realised she was becoming, and Bucky held her tighter, when he felt Y/N growing heavier in his arms.

“Hurry up, Steve, someone is getting a little sleepy over here.” Bucky unintentionally starts to rock her, as he hears her yawn lightly, holding tighter to his chest.

“Shut up.” Steve retorts, quietly, finally working out, what why the sheet fitted on the bed.

Eventually he finished with changing the sheets, after a few uttered curses, and outright swearing.

“There you are your Highness; I hope that it is sufficient.” Steve whinged, before he jumped into the bed, and turned towards the wall, quickly falling asleep.

Bucky rose from the chair, shushing Y/N as she whined in protest of being moved. Laying her on the bed, Bucky is quick to hold her against his chest, as he settles beside her.

Y/N lays her head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat, once again bringing her comfort, after a stressful night, and soon she was softly falling asleep, making sure that she gripped onto Bucky’s arm tightly.

Taglist

@readermia @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru-dea  @bbywtchh@liakrichards@nisha-misha97 @waywardwifey @xxblueslothxx @randomtails @emma-is-a-nerd @hhxppyyy @viviennebloom @in-a-constant-daydream6 @actualhobbitjenny @sexyvixen7 @roleplay-multifandom @sassysaltyrat @sebastianstansqueen @cltex84 @kmuir1 @lemonadygirl @supernaturalwintersoldier @jbarness @kaithezaftig @superhero-missouri @dance-dreamer @sebbybabie @yesfanficsaremylife @highlyselectiveextrovert @lady-x-red @what-is-your-wish @leahnicole1219 @lokisgoddesofpower @ariesmadness97​

[cilldaracailin]

Save Me

Hello My Tumblr Lovely’s,

Here is the last part to this current Robyn and Taron story. Thank you so very much for all the reads, comments and support for this story and series. The next story in the series will appear in the next few weeks once I am finished writing it.

This part needs no disclaimer except to say that I don’t know Taron or his family and this all just fiction.

Suze xx

7

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

Taron was pleased to have the tough conversation finished with, so glad Robyn really understood where he was coming from and now felt he could properly relax and let his body rest. He tried to hide a yawn but he bought his hands to his mouth to cover it in the end.

“You want a scratchy head massage?” Robyn saw the effort he made to try and not yawn but the fatigue was so evident on his face. “It’s the least I can do for you.”

Taron just wanted to throw himself onto her legs so she could get started on his head massage that second but tried to appear not interested, giving his shoulders a shrug. “If you want.”

“I know you want.” Robyn shuffled down the couch opening up the space between them. She was about to pat her legs, but Taron had already moved and was ready to lay his head on her legs and she smiled down at him as he settled on his back, his head on her lap, his hands resting on his stomach, his feet dangling off the edge of the couch. She let her right rest gently on his head and slowly started to move her fingers, massaging the crown of his head, seeing his eyes close as she applied a tiny bit of pressure with her finger tips to his scalp. As she scratched his head, she let her left hand rest on his hands and her smile grew even more when he moved his hands so her hand was caught in-between his two.

“Massages and cupcakes. I love coming to see you.” Taron said quietly as he tilted his head back into her hand.

His words made her grin. “My Welsh knight in shining armour, always coming through for me.” She replied to him.

Taron didn’t answer her but kept his eyes closed, enjoying the wonderful sensation on his head. He had to admit, it was something he had expected to get from Robyn but not so soon. Hearing her speech, he knew he didn’t have to give his two cents on what she had done. He could see she was sincere as she spoke and had said all he wanted to say, so was very happy to move on and away from their tough morning, not wanting to linger on hurt feelings for either of them. As far as he was concerned, all was very much forgiven and he was ready to just enjoy his time with her. Taron was so thrilled to be under her hands, getting a perfect head massage and knowing that although his reason for coming initially hadn’t been a happy once, everything had worked itself out in the end.

As she ran her fingers in circles through his hair, Robyn could see him trying not to smile under her hand but his eyes were creasing a little at the sides. “Your hair is growing.”

“So you told me earlier. Going to be cut this week though.” His eyes rolled behind closed lids as Robyn took her left hand from his hands and now was using two hands to knead his head behind his ears. It was absolutely heaven for him and so badly needed not only after a rough day but a long week on set too. “Has to be cut for scene consistency.”

“Well, I am glad I got to see it a little longer.” As her right hand rubbed his head, her left index finger moved to stroke his nose and she heard the deep exhaled sigh he made and she continued to stroke his nose before going over his eyebrows, knowing he liked that. She was very happy to and wanted to give Taron all the forms of perfect relaxations she knew he enjoyed, needing to show him how much she did appreciate him. Rubbing her finger over his left eyebrow, she had seen the slightly unevenness of the brow before, the slanted scar midway through his brow but never asked him about it. “What happened here?” She enquired, lightly running over the marred skin.

“Bike accident as a kid.” He answered, feeling the wonderfully soft caress of her finger on his forehead “Lot of blood and left a mark.”

“So, I can see.”

“Lots of little scars you don’t know about yet. Just like secret hidden tattoos.” He grinned.

“It wasn’t a secret.” Robyn defended. “Just not talked about.”

“So, a secret then.” Taron repeated, moving a little away from as she tickled his side. “No more tickles. Head massages was the agreement.”

“Okie dokie.” Robyn agreed and concentrated on massaging his head, varying the pressure with her hands, making sure to get a little extra face massage in for him too. As the time moved on, she could see his eye lids flutter, hear his breathing deepening and knew he was slowly heading for a comfortable sleep. “Should we move this to the bedroom?” Asked Robyn, rolling her eyes at her own words. “Yeah, I know, I know.” She saw sparkly green eyes staring at her. “What I meant is that I can see you starting to doze so let’s move to where you can sleep more comfortably.”

“What time is it?” He asked her.

“Just before six.”

“Way too early to go to bed.” He said, stretching out, his arms going over his head in a delightful long body stetch.

“Well, if you insist on a head massage, I know you are going to fall asleep on me.”

“But I don’t wanna!” He said crossing his arms over his chest.

“Taron, you are tired.” Robyn answered his childlike response.

“Am not. You are tired.”

“Taron!” Robyn gently slapped his chest. “We are both tired and we also both know that this couch does nothing for your back.”

“Don’t wanna.” Taron said again moving to sit up, crossing his arms over his chest once more.

“Taron David Egerton.” Robyn turned to face him.

“Robyn Rose Quinn.” Taron sunk down in the couch. “No sleeping.”

“Ok well what do you want to do then?” She asked him. “I mean the cosy bed sleeping is your favourite.”

“I wanna dance.”

“What?” Robyn became very confused. “Dance?”

“Yeah.” He got to his feet. “Alexa, play We Found Love by Rihanna.”

Robyn stared at Taron as he got some music playing and moved away from the couch, around the coffee table and to in front of the television, a wide smile on his face as the first beats of the song came on. She was still puzzled by what Taron was up to, why all of a sudden he wanted to dance and her eyes opened wide as he started to sing along loudly to the words, bouncing from one foot to the other, his bounces becoming higher as the stronger beat of the song kicked in, his voice echoing around the living room as he continued to sing.

“Taron…” Robyn stopped speaking when he held his hands up to her and then indicating that he was singing and dancing as he moved his feet.

As the dance break kicked in, Taron was really feeling the music and started to move his body some more, taking steps forward and backward, moving his knees and then his arms over his head back and forth, hearing laughing coming from the couch. “What?” He asked loudly over the music.

“That is the worst dad dancing I have ever seen!” Robyn was almost embarrassed for him as he showed off his moves.

“Dad dancing!” Taron shouted. “How dare you!” He continued his shuffle, now moving his hips too, turning around to shake his bum, knowing his reason for doing so would be worth it as he heard some more deep laughter from Robyn. He jumped back around to face her and clapping his hands in time to the music, side stepped to the island and picked up his hat and put it on backwards and then his sunglasses on his face. Giving his all, pushing his tiredness to the side, he jumped up and down on his way back to the centre of the living area, giving his dancing everything he had, letting the music fill him, closing his eyes behind his glasses and moving his hands in the hair again, going back to jumping up and down, his head nodding along to the beat. He went back into terrible dad dancing mode and made his way towards Robyn who was still laughing at him. “Come dance with me!” He said to her holding his hands out to her.

“Hell no! This is your time to shine and show off you moves.”

“Come and dance with me!”

“No!”

Taron gave her a grin and shuffled his way towards the piano and where he knew her Alexa was set up and pressed the increase volume button a few times, until the music was very loud. He shuffled back to her, moving his shoulders and held out his hands again. “Come and dance with me!” He shouted. “Or I will pull out the running man and water sprinkler.” When she didn’t make a move, Taron immediately started to move his legs in his best attempt at the nineties dance and before he could even get his hand behind his head to start the sprinkler dance, he looked to Robyn. “Dance with me! I have more.” He held out his hands and smiled as Robyn reached out to take them and he pulled her to her feet and dragged her towards the open space in front of her coffee table and in time with the music started to jump while still holding her hands. “Come on chicken!”

His sudden energy was spilling from every part of him but it was his beautiful dimpled smile that changed her mind and joining in with him, she started to jump up and down in time to the music, both dancing as if they were in the middle of a nightclub and the DJ was playing the best set and she found a similar smile on her face as he twirled her around. Once back facing him, she took his hat from his head and pulled it sideways onto her own. Reaching forward she took his sunglasses too and slipped them on, giving into the dance music and dancing around with her hands in the air, singing along to the words with Taron both clapping in time to the music.

Taron was impressed with his quick little plan, something to lift both their moods and knew she would give into him if he acted silly and watching her jump around, wearing his hat and glasses, nodding along to the music, dancing as if she had no care in the world was exactly what he had wanted and he could see her anxiety really melting away and although he knew both of them were exhausted, the rhythmic song was perfect to infuse a little energy into them, to help them release some pent up feelings and to just be silly together. He went straight for his dad dancing again, laughing loudly and Robyn joined in, both of the moving their legs and arms in similar fashion until the beat picked up and they turned back to typical club dancing, just bouncing around the room together.

Robyn took his sunglasses off and held them in her hand as she found it hard to see through the tinted glass and wanted to see Taron in his element, laughing and smiling and enjoying himself. It was a lift she desperately needed, a way to just let go and together have some fun. The song ended and both were a little breathless but smiling widely.

“See dad dancing, all the rage!” He came to stand beside her, fixing his hat so it sat properly on her head.

“Guess it is catchy.” She put his sunglasses back on.

“They suit you.” Taron reached forward to make the glasses sit a little more straight. “Maybe a bit too big.”

“I don’t really wear sunglasses. When I am driving, but that’s it.”

“I wear them a lot. Good for paparazzi flashes. Hiding tired eyes.”

“You have more reason than me.”

“What about when you go on holidays?” He watched as she shook her head. “Not even on holidays?”

“Tan lines.” She simply said, taking his glasses off. “I have this thing about tan lines.” She saw Taron raise an eyebrow and how his smile quickly turned boyish and shy. “Head out of the gutter. Thanks for the dance. It was needed.”

“You are welcome.” He answered her taking his glasses back. “The idea just came to me.”

“Because you didn’t want to go to sleep.”

“I just don’t want to over sleep. It’s still a bit early.”

“Over sleep?”

“If I get too much sleep tonight, then I will find it harder to get to sleep tomorrow night and I have an early rise on Monday.” He saw Robyn look away from him. “Hey, don’t make me put on another dance track cos I will. I am glad to be here with you.”

“I can drive you back tomorrow.” Robyn looked to him. “I would be happy too.”

“Thank you and I know you would but Matthew organised a driver for me. He is coming for me around six. We still have the rest of this evening, which I think will be spent sleeping for both of us and then tomorrow where we have to make cookies.”

“Make cookies and maybe have another dance?"

Taron laughed. “Sure. We can do that too but I have something else we can do this evening before we hit the hay.” He saw the little apprehension in her face. “I think we should ring the lady in the hospital, Penny, to book an appointment for you to talk to her.”

Robyn bit her lip and then nodded. “I think that is something we should do.”

“Yeah?” Taron asked not used to hearing Robyn agree so readily with him.

“Yeah. I think it is something I need to do, to talk to her. Like I said earlier, I can’t keep going on like this.”

Taron nodded “And then there is something else I think we should do.” He saw her face fall again. “I think we definitely need to ring Mari to give her your RSVP to her birthday invite.”

Robyn’s face turned into a happy smile. “I think we should definitely do that.”

“Penny first though?” He confirmed taking off his glasses and dropping them on the coffee table.

“Sure.” Robyn agreed and left his hat beside his sunglasses on the table.

“Let me get my phone and the number.” Taron walked to the bathroom to get the piece of paper he had dug from his jeans pockets before he stripped for the shower, picking it up from the window sill and then grabbed his phone from the kitchen island on the way, coming back to the couch, going straight for the corner, moving cwtch a little so he could sit in his usual space, sinking happily into the soft material.

“Miss your corner?” Robyn asked watching as he got comfortable, sitting beside him, reaching over his legs to grab cwtch.

“So much and as comfy as ever. I don’t think we will stay here too long. I can feel my body quickly getting sleepy again.” Taron said as he opened the crumbled piece of paper, the hand written phone number for Penny inside. He quickly tapped the number into the keypad on his phone. “Want me to do this for you?” He asked seeing from the corner of his eye how tightly Robyn was cuddling cwtch.

“You mind?”

“Not at all.”

With a nod, Robyn moved so she could lean her head on Taron’s shoulder, keeping cwtch nestled to her chest, being close enough to him so she could hear the conversation on the phone as Taron booked her appointment. The lady on the phone was initially short with Taron, telling him she had no available appointments in the near future but once he mentioned Aiden’s name, explaining their situation, her tone changed and with a little sweet talking from the Welshman, Taron really putting on his accent, he got an appointment for Robyn for Wednesday evening just after seven and another for the following week for the two of them, Taron agreeing to a conference call, assuring the therapist that he would be able to schedule a break on his filming to take the call.

“Thank you so very much Penny.” Taron ended the call and gently let his head rest on Robyn’s which was still on his shoulder. “You ok?”

“Strangely yes.” She answered him. “Just another little bit of weight lifted from my shoulders.”

“See sharing is good.” Taron gave her a little nudge.

“So, I am quickly learning.”

“Can we call Mari now?” He asked. Thrilled with the change he could already see in her, Taron was so happy to move on to more lighter phone calls. “She is going to be so excited to know you can go to her birthday.” Taron lifted his head from hers. “I mean you can go right? I just presumed you would go now that your training is done. Can you take the days off to come to Aber?”

“The twenty second right?”

“Yep. It’s a Saturday. Her birthday is actually Friday but with school she asked to have a party on Saturday and if the weather keeps up the way it is back in Aber, she wants to do a family picnic on the beach on the Sunday, which of course you are invited to as well. I know it is a lot of days to ask off for you.”

Robyn smiled. “I will happily ask for the Friday and Monday off. I have some holiday days left and all that overtime I could use. Probably take a half day Friday though. I can finish around half eleven and then head to the airport.”

“My flight is booked for late Thursday evening. I am needed for important birthday celebrations on Friday morning and then equally important party planning business too when the girls are in school, so I need to be at home with enough time to take part in all birthday plans but I will be there for you at mine when you arrive in the afternoon. I am sure you will be dragged back to Mam’s that evening for even more birthday celebrations.”

“I think I would be very much ok with that. I never really had the opportunity to do the younger sibling or cousins birthday party thing. I am the youngest in my family.”

“You won’t be saying that on Sunday evening when it is all done. My sisters can be very loud.”

“I work with children.” Robyn gently reminded him. “I am used to the noise.”

Taron chuckled a little. “Well don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“When do you have to fly back?” She asked him, her cheek still resting on his shoulder.

“I head back Monday but quite early. We are on night shoots the week after Mari’s birthday weekend so I need to be back on set ready to go.”

“Are you flying from Dublin?” She asked with a little hope.

“Nope from Belfast.”

“I will book the days off and then the flights.”

“You sure you…”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Robyn interrupted him quickly. “I want to be there. I can’t tell you the last time I was invited to a costume party.” Robyn grinned as Taron’s face fell a little. “You forgot about the costume part, haven’t you.”

“Shit yes I did.”

“Really? I am sure Mari has been on about this for weeks now.”

“She has but I haven’t gotten around to sorting one yet. What are you going to dress up as?” He asked.

Robyn thought for a second. “I have no idea. I am only learning of my attendance at this moment so I have an excuse of not being prepared. You as the loving older brother, have none.”

Taron frowned at her. “Thanks for the help.”

“I am sure you can borrow something from the costume department from set or you must still be in contact with Julian from the Rocketman set. I am sure he can lend you an outfit.”

“Sure, because those costume are suited for a kids party.” Taron let his head drop back onto the couch.

“You will figure something out. Now shall we call Mari and let her know she has one more guest to her party?”

“Face time ok with you?” He asked picking up his phone. “If I just call, there will be two sad little sisters knowing I am here with you but yet they don’t get to see you.”

“And a mother too.”

“And mam too.”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

Robyn moved her head from his shoulder as Taron clicked into his contacts to call his mother. He was trying to quickly figure out in his head what he was going to say to him mam when she saw that he was sitting on Robyn’s couch. His mam knew he had no plans to go and see Robyn any time soon, so needed an excuse fast to explain why he was suddenly with her, knowing full well that he was going to get one thorough questioning when he was alone. He felt Robyn lift her head, settling against him, still holding cwtch and finally felt that at the last the two of them were back to being themselves and he was so glad of it. Robyn had followed through with her promise of making the appointment and let him do it without fuss and now knowing she was going to be coming to Aber for the weekend, his whole mood was so excited for the upcoming trip home.

“Taron! Hello love!” His mam’s face appeared on the phone screen. “Nice to see you. On a break from filming? Thought you were caught up all day?” Tina gave him a wide smile, her head tilting lightly to the right. “You get a new couch in your trailer?” She asked him.

“Not quite.” Taron moved the phone so Robyn’s face came into view.

“Hi Tina.”

“Robyn! What a nice surprise. So lovely to see you.”

“You too Tina.”

“Taron, I thought you told me you didn’t have a day off till next weekend, that you didn’t expect to see Robyn for a while yet. Something about your work schedules clashing?”

“Yeah, that was what I had told you but…” Taron’s voice quietened.

“But he rang me last night to say that Matthew was pissed off at the weather and constant rain, that he called halt on filming for the weekend.” Robyn finished for him. “So, Taron called me and asked if he could come down for the night, take some time away from the set. I told him he knew was welcome to stay with me whenever he wanted so has come to see me for the weekend.”

“I got a lift down this morning around nine and was in Robyn’s just after eleven. Matthew wanted to try and finish one scene last night so we shot quite late and then he organised a car for me. I slept on the journey.”

“Well, I am sure you were glad it wasn’t a two hour wait at an airport and then an hour’s flight.” Tina smiled. “Nice to see you both finally got to take advantage of how close you are to each other.” She tried to keep her voice light and cheery but could see the exhaustion on her son’s face, the same matching fatigue on Robyn’s. She wondered just what on earth they had been through once again but trusted in her son and kept the smile on her face.

“It has only been two weeks since we saw each other.” Robyn replied.

“True but when you are ever going to be so close to each other again.” Tina asked. “And I know my Taron is partial to your baking.” Tina saw a light blush fill his cheeks. “So, what did you get this time? Cake? A pie? Home cooked meal?”

Robyn’s face filled with a wide grin, knowing well how embarrassed Taron was at the moment but she was very happy to feed into Tina’s light teasing. “Chocolate cupcakes with honeycomb shards.”

“Robyn, I do think you are in the wrong profession. I know you are wonderful at your job, but a future as a baker might also be calling you.”

Robyn laughed. “It crossed my mind once or twice. Owning a nice coffee shop where I could bake and feed people but childcare just happened to be something I was very good at, the only thing I could do well and know I could do right, so I like to just bake for myself now.”

Tina gave the young woman and understanding smile. “And Taron.”

“And Taron.”

“And my daughters and husband.”

Robyn chuckled. “Let’s just say your family.”

“And speaking of your daughters,” Taron interrupted. “Where are my little sisters? Robyn has something she would like to tell Mari.”

“Outside playing in the last of the evening sun. It seems it hasn’t reached Kilcreen yet.”

Robyn shook her head. “Not quite and I don’t see it happening any time soon. We are in the middle of an Irish summer. Rain and more rain.”

“Let me go and get the girls. Just give me two minutes.”

“Sure mam. Thanks.” Taron placed his phone on his lap and turned his head to Robyn. “Shall I just mind your house for you the weekend of Mari’s birthday? So much girl talk is going to happen, Mari is going to burst with excitement and once again, I will be pushed to the side for girl talk. Instead of going home I can chill on your couch with cwtch, sleep in your bed and snoop some more.”

“I don’t think there is anywhere else for you to snoop and you really think your sisters are going to let you do that? They must be so thrilled to have you home for a few days. It’s been a long time for you.”

Taron nodded, a happy sigh falling from his lips. “I can’t wait to go home. See my family.”

“Taron!”

“Taron!”

A blur of colour dashed across the phone before it was picked up and two red faced girls appeared on the screen.

“Robyn!” Mari shot up from the couch when she realised who was sitting beside her brother. “Hi Robyn! And cwtch! Look Rosie. There is cwtch.”

“Mari move over. I can’t see!” Rosie gave her sister a small push. “Oh hey cwtch! Hi Robyn.”

Robyn and Taron watched a fuzzy screen for a about a minute before it settled down and Tina now held the phone, one of her daughters on each side. “Now that we have some sort of calm, let’s give your brother a proper hello and Robyn too.”

After the girls greeted their brother and Robyn in a way that pleased their mother, she moved the conversation quickly on.

“So Taron, you called me.” Tina coaxed.  “You said Robyn had something she wanted to tell Mari?”

Robyn grinned as she watched the young girls sit up in on the couch, especially Mari. She could see her trying to hold in the burning joy she was feeling and Robyn didn’t want to make her wait too long to hear the news. “So Mari, I would like to officially accept your invite to your birthday party and say that I would absolutely love to go and be there and celebrate your birthday with you and your family and friends.”

“Really?” Mari asked, a little look of doubt in her face, not too sure if she should believe what she was hearing.

“Really really.” Robyn confirmed. “I am definitely going to be there.”

“Robyn! Thank you!” Mari jumped up from the couch, nearly knocking the phone from her mother’s hands. She brought her face really close to the screen. “Thank you for coming! It is going to be the best party and cwtch can come too and don’t forget you have to wear a costume.”

Robyn couldn’t help but smile at Mari’s enthusiasm. “I won’t forget about the costume but I don’t think cwtch can come. He needs to look after the house when I am gone. Rosie I am looking forward to seeing you again too.” She could see how the other little girl was feeling a little left out of the excitement and wanted to make sure she was involved in the conversation. “It has been a long time since we have seen each other.”

Rosie gave Robyn a little smile. “You are really coming?” She asked.

“Really coming.”

“And will you come to our beach picnic on Sunday too?” She asked, her voice hopeful.

“Of course I will, well I will if I am not intruding on a family day out.” Robyn snuck a glance to Tina.

“I know there is always room for one more at our picnic.”

“Thanks Tina. I must bring something.” Robyn thought out loud.

“Absolutely not.” Tina answered her thoughts. “I won’t have it. I am inviting you to our picnic. You are a guest and there is no need for you to bring anything but yourself.”

“And a swimming suit.” Mari added. “And a towel. We are going to go swimming in the sea. You will love the sea Robyn.”

Robyn saw the sideways glance from Taron. “I am sure I will. I think that sounds like a wonderful way to spend the day. Once everyone is sure I am not…”

“We will both be there.” Taron assured his family. “I know I am very much looking forward to a weekend at home and Robyn could do with few days break.”

“I am so happy Robyn! You are going to have the best time.” Mari’s eyes were bright. “This is going to be my favourite birthday ever!”

Rosie turned to her mam. “Can we go back outside?”

“Oh that’s it?” Asked Taron, still holding the phone, a light chuckle to his voice. “You get to hear Robyn is coming to your sister’s birthday and you’re done. Haven’t seen your brother in weeks.”

Rosie looked to the screen. “Taron you know I love you but the sun is nearly gone is and our friends are waiting for us and we will see you soon!”

“Mam can we go?” Mari asked. “It was my turn to jump rope.”

“Sure, go but say goodbye to Taron and Robyn first.”

With a quick and hurried goodbye, the two girls rushed around their mother and as fast as they arrived into the screen they were gone again.

“You absolutely sure you want to come Robyn? That was just a taste of what to you are to expect.” Tina asked, sitting back into the couch, alone without her daughters.

Robyn laughed. “I very much want to come along and like Taron said, I could do with a break.” She saw the tiniest look of concern flick through Tina’s eyes. Robyn knew she looked exhausted, that Taron held the same tiredness around his eyes and she sat up a little straighter, leaning a little more into him, still holding cwtch on her lap. “Taron was very kind and came to me on his day off, last minute to help me through my first aid training that I had today.” She saw that look of alarm fill Tina’s eyes again. “I hadn’t really told him about it and he has just been the most supportive friend for me over the last few hours. I know I would never have gotten through it if it wasn’t for him, hence the reason why I am looking forward to the break, to come back to Aber, to celebrate with Mari and your family. To have a picnic on the beach. Maybe get some freckles.”

“Well, I think you might be in luck then.” Tina nodded, hearing the honest relief behind Robyn’s words, knowing well something more had happened, so glad to hear that Taron had been right there by her side, supporting her just like she always did for him. “The weather is supposed to be beautiful the weekend of Mari’s birthday so you might just get your wish.”

“I will take a weekend away from the rain.” Robyn smiled. “Thank you Tina.”

“You know you are welcome here for a visit, and your mother, whenever you want.”

Robyn chuckled when she heard Taron’s sigh. “I will talk to my mam.”

“Robyn…” Taron hissed under his breath.

“Maybe my dad too. I think we could all do with a nice weekend away at the beach.”

“That would be lovely.” Tina laughed. She could see how uncomfortable her son was becoming, enjoying the obvious exasperation on his face. “Well look, I will leave you both to it and by it, I mean sleeping.” She saw a brief smile twinkle on both their faces. “Robyn, I look forward to seeing you in two weeks. Taron keep in contact with your mother.” She knew Taron understood the message behind her words and accepted his nod as a promise to call her. “I will try and keep the excitement to a minimum over the next weeks. No promises though.”

Robyn laughed once more. “You don’t have to keep the excitement in. I think I might just join in with it all.”

“My daughters and though he will never admit it, my son, will get a kick out of that too. Have a nice weekend you two. Sleep. Lots of sleep.”

“Will do. Bye mam.” Taron ended the call and slouched down a bit on the couch, dropping his phone to his right. He turned his head a little to his could look to her. “So, you told my mam what happened.”

Robyn bit her lower lip a little before answering him. “I hope you don’t mind. I respect your mother and really am trying to change my ways so knew she deserved the know the truth rather than a very well thought up and plausible lie. Your mam is a very perceptive woman and you know, changing, being truthful, the new me?” Robyn said with a raised eyebrow. “Plus, I think I might have saved you from a more serious and thorough questioning, maybe gained you some brownie points.”

Taron found himself smiling. “And invited your whole family to Aber.”

“Wales is close to Ireland and a nice little holiday spot.” She shrugged. “So, you think maybe we should follow your mother’s advice and get some sleep? Or is it still too early for you?”

Taron took a brief look to his watch. Just before seven, it seemed less early than when he looked at his watch an hour ago. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Robyn stood up and held out her hand for him to take, helping him to his feet and still carrying cwtch she made her way to the bedroom.

“Sorry for the mess.” Robyn cringed when she looked to her still unmade bed. “The bed clothes are clean, I promise.” She handed cwtch to Taron as he stood beside her and she quickly pulled the duvet cover up, straightening it out. “Just really haven’t been sleeping much, so haven’t been using the bed.” Robyn bent down to pick up two of her pillows and placed them on the bed, patting them down. “I have been dozing on the couch.”

“Robyn…” Taron placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s ok. Really. You don’t have to explain anything to me and too be honest, I am so tired at this point, I know as soon as my head hits that pillow, I will be snoring.”

“You better not be.” Robyn smiled at him.

“No promises.”

“Maybe I should just go to the couch.” She went to pull cwtch from his hands but he held onto the plush firmly.

“Absolutely not and I am pretty sure you are just going to deeply sleep too so you won’t hear a thing. Now can you mind cwtch for two minutes while I use the bathroom?”

“Sure.”

“Don’t give him all the cuddles.” Taron said seriously. “I need some of those too.”

“Never.”

She watched him walk into the closet and then the bathroom, closing the door behind him. While Taron got ready to sleep, Robyn put cwtch in the middle of the bed and did a quick tidy, picking up a bra that was thrown across her chair at the make-up table, a tank top from the floor and stashed them in her wardrobe, fixing the other side of the duvet. She was closing the curtains as he walked out of the bathroom.

“I used some of your toothpaste.” He said coming to stand at the side of the bed.

“Taron, you don’t have to tell me that. You are welcome to use anything. Get settled. Stick the TV on if you would like. I just need my own two minutes.”

“Sure.”

Robyn stopped at her PJ shelf and routed out a clean pair of blue stripped matching pyjama shorts and string top. She loved the warm fleece pyjama’s she was wearing but having to share her bed with Taron, she knew the long sleeved top and pants would just not work with the cuddle she was bound to be in soon. The shorter cotton set would work for the warmth he would give her, also knowing she wouldn’t need to plug her electric blanket in. After her own trip to the bathroom, she made sure all the doors of the laundry room and closet were closed, making her way into the bedroom, grinning as Taron was already laying on her bed, cwtch tight in his arms, his face buried into to the dinosaur’s soft fur. He was on his left side, curled in a ball, the duvet bunched up at his feet. She turned off the main light and the room plunged into darkness. She was used to walking in her room the darkness, her blackout curtains one of the first things she invested in as she decorated her bedroom and easily made her way around to her side. She turned on the bedside lamp on the locker and happily smiled as she looked to Taron. Yet to speak, or acknowledge that she was back in the room, she could see his eyes were already closed and his chest was moving with easy calm breathes.

“I guess you were right.” She said, turning the light off, getting up onto her bed, taking her time, trying to move him too much as she crawled towards him. “Asleep in seconds.”

“Your bed is just too comfortable.” A muffled reply came to her.

“So, you have told me many times. You too warm? Don’t want the duvet?” She asked him.

“No, not too warm. Just too cosy.��� Taron snuggled a little more in the dinosaur.

“Can I pull it up?”

“Sure.” Taron was settled for the night. Fighting sleep, he was just about able to concentrate on what Robyn was asking him. He could get a whiff of his aftershave from cwtch and along with that beautiful fresh scent of fabric softener from the pillow his head lay on, he was very quickly hitting that hazy feeling of sleep. He felt the weight of the duvet on his body, smiling as Robyn smoothed it down over his shoulder. Sighing contentedly, he was so ready to sleep, to rest and recharge.

“So, want a cuddle?” Robyn eyes had adjusted to the darkness in her room and watched him open his right eye and look at her. “Or is cwtch getting them all tonight?”

“Can cwtch come too?” He asked.

“Sure.” Robyn had already settled herself on the pillow behind her head, laying on her back and was ready and waiting for Taron. He was a little slow in his movements, the weariness he felt so obvious as he took his time in shuffling closer to her and it took him a few seconds after he laid his head under her chin, to notice that she had changed pyjama’s and she could feel the smile on his face.

He wasn’t too sure if it was him or her who was radiating the heat but it was so lovely to be so close to her, even more so that he wasn’t sick and he could actually concentrate on the easy beat of her heart. Her skin was still lightly scented from her bath and it was so hard not to nuzzle a little lower but moved his face a little so the strap of her top wasn’t under his cheek and their skin was properly touching, gorgeously soft feminine skin touching his cheek. Always thankful for the size of her bed, Taron had enough space to cuddle close to her but still stretch his legs out to the side and not have them hanging off the bed and he found a perfect sleeping position, still on his side. The extra space was glorious and it was a sleep he was very much looking forward too. He placed cwtch in front of his stomach, by Robyn’s right side and as he slid his right arm over Robyn, his palm resting flat around her waist, the plush was snug between them. He opened his eyes and it took a few seconds for them to adjust to the darkness. It was so obvious she had changed, knowing well the bare skin that his face rested on was not on show before she went into the bathroom. “PJ’s too hot?” He asked as his cheek laid on Robyn’s bare shoulder, his face moving a littler lower, the tip of his nose brushing her skin.

“No, my house guest is.” Robyn answered him, already feeling the heat from Taron’s arm around her stomach sinking into her, the warmth from his face on her chest.

Another little smile found his lips, as she drew the duvet up over his shoulders. “Shorts?” He asked his eyes closing again. He hadn’t seen them, but figured she had changed her bottoms too.

“Naturally. Now sleep.” Robyn lifted her right hand to his head, gently running her fingers through his hair. “Thanks Taron.” She moved so she could kiss his head, keeping her fingers moving back and forth slowly.

“Always Robyn.” Taron answered slowly and sleepily. “Always.” He really wanted to stay awake, to enjoy the wonderful sensation of her hand in his hair, the increasing heat of their skin but he was asleep within minutes.

It took Robyn a little longer to drift off, very much enjoying the cuddle with Taron. Ever so thankful for the man in her arms, Robyn had never known a male to truly show their emotions with her in a way without anger or judgement. Taron had been nothing but patient with her, understanding and just so supportive and she knew she owed him so much. Lifting her left hand, she lightly stroked his nose and without thinking his slightly parted lips. She quickly moved her hand as he stirred a little, those adorable little sleepy noises she was getting used to hearing coming from him as he settled, his head moving lower on her chest. She was surrounded by his warmth in every way possible and placing her whole hand over his cheek, found herself kissing his head once again, her thumb moving very lightly to stroke his cheek.

“I love you Taron.”

Closing her eyes, she let her arms drape over his body and for the first time all week, finally felt herself again, free from ghastly nightmares and visions, having something to look forward too, someone to look forward to spending time with, someone to love with everything she had.

[peremadeleine]

JCS: The 50th Anniversary Tour

My dad and I just saw the touring 50th anniversary production of Jesus Christ Superstar! We both grew up with the music and know it like the backs of our hands, so frankly our expectations were high.

It was...amazing.

A long, detailed, scene-by-scene discussion under the cut!

As the overture stars to play, the lights come up slowly and you realize that you can see the band--the actual rock band--on the second level of the set. They weren’t highly visible, not intrusive, but we both thought that was so cool. True to the spirit of what is, after all, a rock opera.

The cast came out, during the overture, from two of the audience doors in the orchestra and began hopping up on stage. Also very cool--we weren’t the only ones leaning forward in the balcony to look!

Full disclosure, Judas is my favorite character, so “Heaven on their Minds” is a make-or-break moment for me. Didn’t love all of his delivery, but Judas still sold it. (He clearly took a lot of inspo from Carl Anderson.) He was trying to reach Jesus both emotionally and physically without being weird and clingy (a la the terrible 2000 movie).

Ciaphas and Annas were both Perfect. Annas was an annoying little shit who sounded a lot like Geddy Lee--the lead singer from Rush--and Ciaphas had a deep, menacing, beautiful baritone just right for the part.

Though Simon’s performance was not quite as passionate as I would’ve liked, his voice was wonderful. Probably the best strictly vocal rendition of “Simon Zealotes” I’ve ever heard.

Really liked the way the Temple scene was set up...I would’ve liked it more if they’d given Jesus some prop to interact with/throw around, but the glittery/seedy feel of the scene contrasted perfectly with the low-key, muted set design up to that point.

This was the first scene where Jesus actually caught my attention. His delivery of “my Temple should be a house of prayer!” was a real show-stopper--as it ought to be.

The Lepers sequence was clearly overwhelming/stressful for Jesus without being too unpleasant (that’s always how I remember it from the ’73 movie) for the audience. As with “Hosanna,” though, I would have liked a slightly bigger ensemble to magnify the power of the scene.

Mary’s voice was lovely. She played “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” a little bit delicately, and there wasn’t much for her to do--Jesus was sleeping way off to side of the stage--so I think it could’ve been just a little more powerful, emotionally speaking, but again, her voice was very pretty.

When Judas, beckoned forward by Ciaphas, takes his reward for betraying Jesus from a chest at the end of “Damned for All Time,” his hands become stained silvery-white. As the show progressed the silver paint crept up his arms almost to his shoulders. A small prop would’ve been hard to see, anyway, so the Lady Macbeth-style staining of his hands was easily visible from our seats as well as perfect visual symbolism.

During the Last Supper scene, the apostles re-purpose the cross-shape platform in the middle of the stage as a table. They all froze in poses reminiscent of Da Vinci’s painting (as in the ’73 film) while Jesus sang his solemn lines about consuming his body and blood.

This was the scene that most explicitly explored the bond between Jesus and Judas. At the beginning of the scene, Jesus comes up behind Judas and wraps him in a cloak. Later, an obviously-distraught Judas kneels at the edge of the stage and gazes with desperate hope at his friend, even reaching for Jesus’ hand with his stained one. He wants Jesus to stop him, to keep him there--but of course, he’s sent away to betray him.

More disclosure: “Gethsemane” is my favorite song from the show. It’s raw, it’s angry, it’s powerful. I watched a video of the actor playing Jesus performing an acoustic version in a studio and was not impressed, and so far I was on the fence about his on-stage Jesus, which lacked a little bit of the “drama queen” (or, I guess, the “superstar”) element I expect from JCS!Jesus. tl;dr This was THE big make-it-or-break-it moment of the show for me...

Oh, ye of little faith, Luth! All the hesitance and just-good-enough vocals went out the window; he sang with passion and power and conviction, improving steadily as the song reaches its climax. He didn’t try to imitate the vocal wizardry of Ian Gillan, but he hit the high note (“see how I die”) and held it.

At one point he ripped off his shirt and threw the microphone stand against another set piece in his anger, fear, and despair, which I thought was a nice visual for the audience.

I realized, by the end of the song, when the audience erupted into cheers/applause and my dad leaned over to whisper “He nailed it!” that there were tears in my eyes. I was actually crying! And I was so happy, despite my tears, because this Jesus had finally overcome my months-long misgivings and now I could enjoy the rest of the show for what it would be,

Pilate is usually played by an older man, sometimes in over-the-top flamboyant (often purple) costumes. Not so here. This Pilate was the image of a punk rocker in black leather, and he was young, and he was a certifiable rock star! What a voice!  He was the only one my dad “whooped” for at the curtain call.

Confession time...I’ve never truly seen the need for “Herod’s Song,” catchy as it is. But seeing the show live, the audience was into it. They clearly needed one wacky comic number. And boy was this one wacky. Very well-done, kind of had a cabaret aesthetic with Herod in a silver leotard and sparkly black boots.

Everyone clapped between Judas’ confrontation with the priests and his reprise of “I Don’t Know How to Love Him,” which meant the slow, sad beginning of said reprise was drowned out a little. Boo. It’s one of the most moving songs in the show. (“Does he love...does he love me too? Does he care for me? Oh!”) That said, the tension in the audience was palpable (or maybe it was just me) when Judas climbs the stairs and strings up his rope. Just the rope dropped as the lights went down, so it was tastefully done, but all I felt was dread. Which is the point, I imagine.

The ensemble did a great job of realistically haranguing and guilt-tripping Pilate until he abandoned his logical stance that Jesus had done nothing deserving of death and gave into their demands. The best use of the ensemble in the entire show.

I always skip the 39 lashes when I listen at home. They did it very symbolically--throwing “glitter bombs” of a sort at Jesus every time Pilate counted a lash so that he was covered in gold tinsel by the end of it--and it made it bearable to watch, though still tense.

When the instrumental hook of “Superstar” plays after the trial and before the actual song “Superstar,” Judas comes back out on stage and places the crown of thorns on Jesus’ head. An interesting choice. It certainly got me right in the feels.

Would have liked a bit more one-on-one interaction between J&J during “Superstar,” maybe a new costume for Judas, but otherwise a good performance of that, too.

That’s where I always end my listen...but of course the show ends with the crucifixion. Of course that’s never going to be a pleasant scene, is it? It was, again, fairly tastefully done, with Jesus ending up back-lit on the cross.

The final image of the show was also the single-most powerful one:  the rest of the stage was still dark, with Judas* sitting at the foot of the cross gazing up at the still-backlit Jesus. Reader, I wept.

*it occurred to me that it MIGHT have been Mary--the stage was dark, and our seats were pretty high-up...but I prefer the symbolism of it being Judas.

The set was very minimalist, with two unadorned two-story platforms on either side of the long, much shorter protruding cross-shaped platform. It worked for me. (Much better than the weird “industrial” look they went for in the live TV special.)

The costumes were hit-or-miss, but I did like the simplicity of the design. It was quite monochromatic, with Jesus and the apostles (and Mary) mostly in white or beige, Pilate in black, and Judas appropriately in gray. (There were some much-appreciated pops of color during the Last Supper sequence, when the apostles wrapped themselves in red and blue cloaks; and some glitter/sparkle added visual interest in the Temple, Herod, and Trial scenes.)

I could probably say more, including about what I didn’t like as much--there were a few things!--but I’ll save that for another post. Bless you if you actually read all that.

As sad as I am that I didn’t get to see the 2012 Broadway revival, I’m so glad I got to see this.

If you are a fan of Jesus Christ Superstar and have the means, I HIGHLY encourage you to check out the tour if it comes to a city near you. It may not be the greatest production of this show ever staged, but it’s very entertaining, respectful of the material, musically excellent--and it blows that televised one from 2018 out of the water! All in all, just a wonderful tribute for JCS’s 50th anniversary.

[ofieugogyshz]

Booth: Boogiepop Tarot

“I'm not sure I understand why you couldn't wear what you normally wear...”

“It's for the aesthetics, Mr. Champion. I'd expect you of all people to understand the importance of presentation!”

This exchange happened at one very visually appealing stall, between two people who were at work, setting it up in the hours before the festival opened to the public. The stall had a quaint, yet mystical atmosphere to it, a subtle otherworldliness to it. There were no skulls or symbols implicating something demonic or magical in nature. But the black, wine red, and purple color scheme, the layabout crystals and candles, the stars that hung from the tent poles which glittered in the day and glowed in the dark; fairy lights that would be visible at night, but during the day were hidden in the rafters, covered by flower chains and vines; the occasional witch's ladder hung in various spots, ending with bottles of herbs, powder, or glitter as a means to catch a wavering eye... All this had been an assortment of things that appealed to the one running the booth. They had desired something that gave a very mystical, almost magical vibe, but didn't buy directly into a gothic vibe or skirted the spring theme that they had to work with. Perhaps it had been a bit overdone, but it all added up to an intriguing and unusual display.

The person running the booth was a non-binary individual signed up under the name of “Boogiepop”. Naturally, this wasn't the actual Boogiepop. But the tarot reader who had set about organizing the booth certainly had taken it upon themselves to look the part.

They wore a long cloak that covered their entire body, hiding their heavyset form under shapeless navy blue. When visible, the inside of the cloak was lined with a nebulae pattern in a reddish hue. A long, stove-pipe shaped hat adorned their head. What looked like miniature knobs and trinkets littered the front of the hat, as it was held down by a chain across the crown. Brown hair was tucked under the hat, except for two strands that framed their face. From their ears dangled gold stars along gold chains of varying length; they wore a large wire ear cuff that had stars on it, beautiful and simple. This Boogiepop wore black lipstick that glittered in a mysterious way, adding to the intrigue that the individual hoped to bring.

Across their shoulders was a rather long belt that ended in a large yin-yang symbol in the middle, seeming to hold it up. It had a black and white zigzag pattern. Shorter belts, in a plain brown color, seemed to be worn as bracelets and anklets, though these were only visible when the cloak was thrown open, or a hand was reaching across to turn a card or position a crystal. Solid black nail polish coated their fingertips, a stark contrast to the shimmer and shine of the booth itself, and the rest of the adornments that the reader had added to their costume.

There was a certain image that this person had in mind for their stall's display, and they definitely strove to bring it to life.

“Besides,” they continued, as they reached into a box and pulled out various crystals and gems to adorn their tables and display, “I'm not always about pink and sparkly cheer! I mean, sure, this would have been the perfect opportunity to go ham on that with whatever I've got in my closet, but I don't have to!! There's nothing wrong with a little black now and then; spring sprouts from the dead of winter, the end of a beginning! Oh, don't give me that look,” they said, cutting themselves off in a huff as their husband stifled a laugh at their words while he helped make sure that the poles for the stall's covering were secure.

He stopped where he was working, covering his mouth with his fist as he chuckled at the overanalyzing ramble his wife went on, the attempt to make an excuse to wear that particular costume, but they had already noticed it and puffed out their cheeks in a pout.

“I'm sorry; you're just so cute when you ramble on like that.”

Their cheeks flushed red and they turned away sharply, quickly busying themselves with putting decorations down at another table.

Nearby, a Pikachu helped decorate. A small, traditional-styled witch's hat was on the Pikachu's head, as her long ears poked through the brim of the hat so as to keep it in place. The reader glanced up from their work to look at their Pikachu's progress. She ran across the front crying about happily as she helped place flowers and crystals down.

“Ahh! Pika, try not to put too many flowers down. I know it's a spring festival, but I want the gemstones to be noticeable, too...” The trainer watched as their Pikachu nodded, and sprinted away with a mouthful of the flowers it had just sat down, placing them gently back in a small bucket that housed many other flowers that were being used to decorate. The festival had supplied these, so as to help encourage the spring vibes for each of the people who had signed up for a stall.

When this stall's “Boogiepop” had heard about the festival, they had hurriedly signed themselves up as a vendor, completely ignoring the fact that part of the importance of the festival was for families and couples. ...Which was part of the reason why they had initially been drawn to the Spring Festival. But when they saw their niche interest listed among one of the potential booths that one could hold, their mind instantly changed gears as hyperfixation took hold. What went from a planned, simple date outing with their spouse instantly became a frenzied, excited need to make up a huge display and share something that they rarely got to share publicly. And now, they had roped their husband into helping them set up and keep them company between patrons.

But that was not an issue at all. The two did not get nearly enough time together recently, so any excuse would have sufficed. “Boogiepop” looked over at their husband, smiling as they remembered this.

When everything had been laid out, the last thing they did was put out the divination decks. Carefully, they set down five deck boxes of varying sizes on a table along the side of their reading table. They were spaced out a certain amount, as though to give each deck room for themselves. Three more decks were placed down on the much larger center table, which would be the working space for any potential clients. A large reading cloth covered the circular, center table. It showcased constellations across the night sky, naming each one that appeared. There was the casual adjustment of a nearby crystal, or some other trinket that added to the visual, aesthetic appeal of the whole booth.

Their husband watched as his wife picked up each deck individually, closing their eyes for a moment, whispering a few words before they put it back down and picked up the next deck. They had done this for each of the eight decks that they had brought. Though he didn't understand much about how tarot reading worked, or why his wife felt such a pull towards it, it didn't matter. He loved watching them focused on something. He loved the excitement that they got as everything started to come together during the time they had spent setting up together. He loved watching them.

Incense was lit as the festival attendees had begun their stroll inside the festival park. It was a very earthy, grounding blend that helped gave a sense of calm to any passersby that smelled it.

The tarot reader finally sat down at their center table. Tarot cards had been kept in their boxes for the time being, though the reader themselves longed to begin shuffling. Maybe just a single card, to get their mind focused and at ease...?

“You know, your costume doesn't seem very spring-like at all,” commented their husband, breaking the silence immediately.

They let out a sigh. It was much better to let their hyperfixation rest for the time being, so they wouldn't burn out early. They'd hate to have spent all this time and energy setting up, only to be unable to focus on a reading after an hour or two.

“Yeah, well,” they started, turning to look at their husband. “I'm surprised that you didn't come in uniform for once,” they said, pursing their lips in a mock-pout. They rested their elbow on the table as they spoke, putting their chin in their hand.

It was true. Their husband was normally seen in much more dramatic clothing, usually accompanied by a cape. Today, however, he had gone for something more simple. A black turtleneck shirt  with long sleeves, and khaki pants. “Boogiepop” had half expected their spouse to look no less jarring amongst festival goers than they did themselves in costume, as his typical outfit was iconic of his position, and only felt slightly dismayed that they were now the one overdressed. They scanned him up and down, from his spiked red hair all the way down to the shoes he wore, and back up, meeting his blue eyes.

“Are you cold-blooded or something?” they asked suddenly, a critical eye on his outfit. “It's the beginning of May. Aren't you hot in that?”

There was only a brief pause as their husband considered his response, looking down at what he wore.

“Well. If we were to ask your 'twelve-year-old self', apparently the answer would be yes.” He gave them a teasing grin, earning a huge eye roll and sputtering fluster from his wife.

“Oh. my. Fucking. God. – I can't. I can't even with you right now. – No, no. You know what?” they said, grabbing a deck like they were brandishing a weapon. They quickly rifled through the cards. When they found what they were looking for, they slammed the deck back down on the table, and held out the card to their lover.

“Just for that--! The Tower! Everything falls to ruins, because you just ruined it,” they declared, cheeks still flushed hot red from embarrassment.

--

Had the reader's booth caught the eye of any passersby, maybe they had heard part of this conversation. Perhaps they even watched as it occurred. Or maybe it was the playful teasing, the banter and fluster, that caught one's interest, and the surrounding booth, with all its decor, finished drawing them in.

Regardless of how one approached, there would be a Pikachu in a witchy hat to greet you cheerfully, running alongside you as it tried to bring you in. And the tarot reader and their husband would look up from whatever they were doing when they heard that Pikachu.

“Welcome,” began the tarot reader, as they gave their best monotone impression. “If it interests you, you may ask me any question you seek to know. You may find yourself learning information about yourselves that does not please; or perhaps it was information you already knew? Do you wish to go back to the beginning, to find the root of all causes? Or do you simply wish to watch the here and now? Feel free to seek, but do not be afraid of the answer--” and there was a pause, as though they were forgetting their lines.

“Ahh, forget it. I'm doing single card readings if you're interested. What do you wanna know? Please make sure to mind the rules posted by the entrance. Oh, and don't mind the husband, he's just here because he loves me,” they will say, as the two will look at each other and smile. “Tell me your question, because I know the cards will have a lot more to say to you if you don't.”

[badchoicesposts]

Don’t Dream It’s Over Chapter 14

Series Summary: Liam and Ali thought that their relationship was perfect, but their whole world came crashing down when Constantine called him back to Cordonia. Four years later they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party, determined to make things between them work even if it isn’t always easy.

In this AU, Liam and MC (Ali Moonessar) dated for a year in New York while Leo was still crown prince. They broke up when Constantine asked Liam to come back to Cordonia, but they meet again at Liam’s bachelor party before the social season. The story will contain flashbacks, which will be italicized, of their relationship and follow them as they try to navigate the season with Ali as a suitor. I’ve messed around with the timeline a bit so that it fits the story better. I’ve also added in a few OCs of my own.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Ali Moonessar) Platonic!Drake x MC

DISCLAIMER: I’ve changed up the timeline of the social season a bit to fit my story better. I’ve based it off of some research I did on the British Social Season. Some of the dialogue, especially Olivia’s, was taken directly from Book 1 of The Royal Romance but was changed a bit to fit my fic.

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @ao719, @kingliam2019, @emceesynonymroll, @hopefulmoonobject, @dcbbw, @qammh-blog, @liamxs-world, @drakesensworld, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @lauradowning29, @texaskitten30, @senseofduties, @indiacater, @alexintheskyy

A/N: This is my first time ever posting a fic. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and would like to read more. I thrive on validation, lol. Thanks for reading! Also special thanks to @lauradowning29 who gave me the motivation to get this out early!

Catch Up: Masterlist

The next evening Ali, Hana, and Lizzie were getting ready for Olivia’s ball, none of them too excited to attend after the previous night. Ali slipped into the champagne colored satin maxi dress that Emma had made specifically for this occasion. The satin material made the dress look formal and classy, while the wrap style of it cinched in her waist and flattered her figure. A high slit went up the side of her left leg and exposed her sparkly, heeled shoes, which added about five inches to her height. 

“Can Emma design my clothes too?” Lizzie asked, her jaw slack as she took in Ali’s appearance. 

“She’d probably be really happy to hear you say that,” Ali admitted.

She noticed Hana smile at the other woman’s name, but didn’t comment. Before going back to New York, Emma mentioned that she and Hana had exchanged phone numbers so they could “talk about their designs” since Hana was into fashion as well. She knew they had been speaking often, but didn’t want to pry into their whatever relationship they had just yet. 

The three of them went down to the ballroom of the chateau and made a beeline towards Maxwell. 

“Ladies, it’s a pleasure to see you this evening,” Maxwell said stiffly, “And Lady Moonessar, I must say, you look utterly becoming. Truly a diamond in the first water.”

Ali was confused, and she was sure her face betrayed that.

“Thank you, Lord Maxwell, for that, uh, very formal compliment,” she replied, using his title as well. 

“Tonight I am representing the Duchy of Ramsford at this important social event.”

“Oh, so Bertrand got to you?” she asked. 

“He’s been calling me all day to remind me,” Maxwell frowned. 

“Well, I have complete faith in you,” Ali said, in attempts to get him to cheer up. 

“We should be taking our seats,” Lizzie spoke up behind them.

Ali looked around and noticed that the tables had elegant name cards on each of the plate settings. 

“Yeah, about that,” Maxwell began, “Lizzie and I are sitting at the head table with Prince Liam and Olivia, but you and Hana are at the furthest table in the back.”

“I’m guessing Olivia had something to do with that,” Ali said. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry to leave you guys, but we should get over there,” Maxwell said, motioning to the table at the front of the room. 

“Don’t worry about us. Ali and I will make the best of it!” Hana said, optimistically. 

“Yeah, have fun, Max.”

The two women walked over to their table and were greeted by Drake. 

“Welcome to the table of exiles,” he said indifferently. 

“Hey, Drake. I’m glad to see you,” Ali said, taking her seat next to him. 

“I think it’s supposed to be even more of an insult that Olivia placed us next to a commoner,” Hana commented, taking her seat as well.

They were the only three people at this table, while all of the others held at least six.

“Yeah, I have a feeling she saw it as hitting two birds with one stone. She was probably also trying to get in Liam’s head by sitting the two of us next to each other,” Ali said to Drake in an undertone. “Let’s just say his morning text today was a lot less enthusiastic than usual.” 

“It’s not like he has anything to worry about,” Drake mumbled back. 

“Drake, you don’t seem to be bothered at all by being seated in the back,” Hana said, breaking up their whispered conversation.

“What can I say? After years of getting treated like this, you build up a thick skin. Besides, back here? Out of the spotlight? At least we can relax.” 

Ali nodded in agreement and watched as servers began to fill the room, placing plates of food down on the other tables. They were gone as quickly as they came, passing over their table completely.

“I’m sure they’ll be back,” Hana said hopefully. 

“It’ll probably be a while. We’ll be the last to eat because of where we’re seated, if there’s any left at all,” he said, leaning back in his chair. 

“But, the lobster bisque. Do you really think we’ll starve?” Hana asked sadly.

Drake shrugged, and the three of them watched as a few servers still moved around the room, all overlooking their table. The three of them made casual conversation for the next hour as they all got increasingly hungry. 

“The service here is terrible, but even still it’s not the worst I’ve had. Believe it or not, I’ve been to a wedding where they didn’t serve dinner until midnight,” Hana said.

“You think that’s bad? I’ll tell you a real horror story,” Drake said, leaning forward in his chair, “Let’s set the scene. Casual get together. Lots of people I don’t know, but that’s fine because there’s a bar. Man’s true best friend. So, I figure I’ll grab a drink. I go up to the bar, and they’re out of whisky.”

Ali refrained from rolling her eyes at his comment, almost sighing in relief as a server approached their table. Three bowls were placed in front of them, and they were forced to refrain themselves from inhaling the food before the server even walked away from the table.

“There’s no lobster in my bowl. It’s just bisque,” Hana said, running her spoon through the liquid. “This is the saddest soup I’ve ever seen.”

“And the coldest,” Drake said, placing his own spoon back down after tasting it.  

Ali was just about to try the soup herself when the orchestra began playing, and Olivia moved to the front of the room. 

“Hello, dear guests, and welcome to the Nevrakis family’s chateau. It means so much that you join me in this place that’s so dear to my heart. I hope you enjoy the festivities tonight as much as I will.”

Drake scoffed at her words.

“Now please join me up front to begin the Cordonian Waltz,” she concluded.

“We haven’t finished eating!” Hana exclaimed. 

“I don’t think she cares,” Drake said. 

“Well, let’s do this,” Ali said, stomach still grumbling. “Are you coming, Drake?” 

“No, I’ll just… stay here with the food,” Drake said, looking around uncomfortably. 

Ali took her time walking up to the front of the room, not eager to do any dancing.

“Olivia, may I have this dance?” she heard Liam ask as she made her way over to Maxwell. 

“Of course. Anything for you, Prince Liam,” Olivia said happily. 

“My lady, may I have this dance?” Maxwell asked, bowing to Ali exaggeratedly and making her smile.  

“I would be honored,” she replied, allowing him to lead her into the loose circle forming on the dance floor. 

She and Maxwell began to glide seamlessly across the dance floor. 

“Wow, you’re doing really well,” Maxwell complimented.

“Thanks, I’m sure Bertrand would be glad that all of his training paid off. I think he was ready to murder me for how long it took to get this right.”

Maxwell spun her effortlessly before they finished in the end pose with her back pressed against his chest, and his arms around her. 

“We’re about to switch partners. Looks like you’ll be with Liam next,” he whispered, pushing her forward into Liam’s arms. 

“Good evening,” Liam said, catching her in his arms. 

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’m doing well. It’s been a lovely evening so far,” he replied, as they carried out the same steps that she had just executed with Maxwell. 

Her nerves were building at his chilly demeanor.

“Liam, you know I was joking when I said I would take Drake and I being a cute couple into consideration right?” she asked, her voice slightly frantic but still quiet enough that only he could hear. 

Liam’s body relaxed slightly. 

“I know, and I know that you would never go behind my back with someone. You just looked awfully cosy when I saw you last night,” he said, somehow sounding ashamed and defensive at the same time. 

“I slipped when we were outside, so I grabbed onto him. The storm was getting pretty bad, and I didn’t want to lose him, so I just held on until we got back inside,” she explained. 

Liam spun her under his arm and pulled her back to him, now completely ashamed at his reaction.

“I’m sorry for getting jealous,” he whispered in her ear, his arms circling her as she leaned her back into his chest. 

They swayed silently for a second, and she felt him relax his body against hers, keeping her pressed as close to him as possible. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and closed his eyes, taking in her smell of her hair. 

“I love you, Liam. Only you,” she said quietly, closing her eyes as well and placing her hands on top of his where they rested on her stomach. 

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, neither of them was quite willing to let the other go just yet.

“Ahem!” Olivia’s voice sounded loudly beside them. 

They jumped away from each other and was met with the face of an angry Olivia. Ali also noticed a few of the other nobles glancing at them and whispering enthusiastically amongst themselves. All of the other couples had already switched partners.

“Lady Alison, I believe he’s my partner now,” she said, trying to conceal her anger.

“Of course,” Ali said, bowing her head and walking back into Maxwell’s arms. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired and hungry,” she said, not wanting to tell him about their disagreement.

“Hungry?” Maxwell asked, confused. “Dinner was just served.”

“Yeah, Olivia made sure Drake, Hana, and I didn’t eat,” Ali said. 

“Oh!” Maxwell exclaimed, surprised. 

“It’s not that big a deal,” she said, before realizing he was reacting to something behind her.

Ali turned her head just in time to see Olivia pull Liam into a deep kiss. Olivia wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and gasps were heard all throughout the ballroom. Ali tried her best to keep her expression neutral, not wanting to give a negative reaction. After a moment too long, Liam gently pulled himself away from her, and whispered something in her ear before pulling her out of the ballroom. People began to talk excitedly amongst themselves, some of the other suitors visibly angry. Many of the people in the room looking to her and waiting for a negative reaction.

“I think I’m going to sit down for a bit,” she said to Maxwell, making her way back over to the table and taking her seat next to Drake. 

Drake looked over at her as if he wanted to say something, but thought against it and remained quiet instead. They sat in silence for a moment before he finally spoke up. 

“Do you wanna get out of here? Get some actual food?” he asked. 

Ali thought it over for a moment, and then nodded. 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He took out his phone and sent someone a text before getting up. They slipped out of one of the ballroom’s side doors, careful not to draw too much attention to the fact that they were leaving together, and he led her outside to a large SUV that already had the keys inside. 

The drive to wherever they were going was silent but not uncomfortable. Ali watched as the trees passed by, all covered in white snow, and rubbed her hands up her arms. The flowy bell sleeves of her dress only went down to her elbows, and she hadn’t thought to grab a jacket before they left. Drake turned the heat up as they pulled up to a small diner. 

“Wait here,” he said.

He quickly ran inside and came back out about ten minutes later with a bag and two large drink containers. He handed the items to her and got back behind the wheel, driving them about five minutes away to an empty stretch of land. He turned onto the grass and parked the car, reaching over the grab the bag.

“It’s an American style diner. I figured you could use some real food,” he said passing her a wrapped burger and a small container of fries. 

“Thanks.” 

The two of them ate in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again.

“Are you okay?” he asked, staring straight ahead of him and out the windshield.

“Yeah, I just- I’m just tired of feeling things,” she mumbled, shoving a few fries in her mouth. “I know that sounds dumb, but I’ve been so emotional since I’ve gotten here, and I’m just ready to go back to not feeling eight million different things at once.”

She let out a self-deprecating laugh. 

“It’s kind of ironic, isn't it? Court is the place where you’re not supposed to show how you’re feeling. You can’t react to anything too strongly because if you do you could offend someone or cause a scandal. But, at the same time, it’s one of the most emotional places I’ve ever been.”

“Well, that’s why isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Everyone grew up at court thinking that they weren’t allowed to feel anything, so now they don’t know what to do when they experience any kind of emotion. Everyone has to be so proper all the time, so know one actually knows how to act, how to be normal. Instead of dealing with their feelings they gossip, start rumors and point fingers,” he said.

Ali leaned back in her seat and reflected on his words.

“Ya know, fancy steaks and tiny finger sandwiches are great and all, but I think this might have been the best meal I’ve had since coming to Cordonia,” she said, ready to change the subject. 

Drake chuckled.

“You can thank me with a bottle of whiskey.” 

Ali laughed and took a sip of her milkshake. 

“I don’t think I’ve even touched alcohol since that night. The bachelor party. I’ve been too terrified that I would screw something up if my inhibitions were lowered even the slightest bit,” she admitted.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you’ve impressed most of the people you’ve met so far. You’ve definitely been the talk of the season. The whole scandal may have changed a few people’s opinions, but I’ve heard mostly good things about you,” he said, wiping his hand on a napkin and throwing it back in the food bag, before buckling up his seatbelt. “And if you need a decent drink, something stronger than champagne, you know where to find me.”

“I just don’t want to embarrass myself, or Liam,” she said.

“I don’t think anything you do would ever embarrass Liam. The man worships the ground you walk on.” 

“He does not worship the ground I walk on,” she said stubbornly.

“Yeah, he does. Why do you think Olivia kissed him tonight?”

“Because she felt like it,” Ali said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“C’mon, you’re smarter than that. You and Liam got too close on the dance floor, and she was jealous.”

Ali remained silent for the rest of the ride back to the chateau. It was obvious that Olivia had feelings for Liam, but she had been too caught up with her own emotions and the fact that she and Olivia had gotten into so many disagreements to stop and consider the other woman’s feelings. 

“Don’t be too mad at him for what happened. It’s not like he could have pushed her away and caused a scene in front of everyone. She’s technically still one of his suitors. Besides, he loves you, not her,” Drake said. 

Ali nodded her head. She knew that he was right, but she was still wasn’t happy about it. 

“Thanks for tonight, Drake. It was nice to get away from all of this,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and making her way up to her room. 

She was just about to pull her dress off when she saw a small envelope placed at the foot of her bed. 

Ali, 

Please meet me in the grand suite, upstairs at the end of the east wing. I believe I owe you an apology. 

All my love,

Liam

Ali sighed and placed the note back down on the bed. It was short and to the point. The last thing she felt like doing was talking about what happened tonight, but she knew that this was something that they needed to do. Her fingers traced over his neat handwriting, the last handwritten note she had received from him jumping to the forefront of her mind. 

~~~

Ali perched herself awkwardly on the edge of Liam’s bed as she watched him pile clothes into his suitcase. She had no idea why she had offered to help him pack, why she thought it would be a good idea to physically help him move on from the life they had together. She was only torturing herself, watching as the one person who made her happier than she had ever been prepared to leave her.

She was here because she was being a good girlfriend. That’s what good girlfriends did, right? They helped their boyfriends pack up all of their memories, making sure they were all bundled up neatly together so that they could easily be forgotten and disposed of as soon as he left the country. But, was she really even his girlfriend anymore? Their relationship had ended the moment he announced he would be leaving. It didn’t matter if he wouldn’t be gone for another two days, they were practically over already anyway. 

A sigh escaped her lips as she pushed herself off the bed and hastily made her way over to his nightstand. She scolded herself for thinking so selfishly. Liam had a life outside of her, and she couldn’t ask him to give that up. It wasn’t her place. He had important responsibilities. She should be thankful for the wonderful time they had been able to spend together. 

She wiped away a tear before yanking open the first drawer and dumping the contents out onto the bed. It had been mostly trinkets, but the package of condoms that he kept there caught her eyes, and she didn’t have the courage to ask him whether or not he wanted to keep them or throw them away. She wordlessly threw them into the suitcase and reached for the next drawer. 

“Wait! Don’t go in there!” Liam called after her. 

She had already pulled the drawer open, however, pulling out the envelope that was addressed to her. 

“What is this?” she asked, holding the envelope in her hands.

“I was going to give it to you before I left,” Liam whispered as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a- uh, a letter.” 

Ali furrowed her brows in confusion and tore open the envelope. The letter was handwritten on Liam’s personal stationary. As Ali skimmed over his words she quickly realized that it was a goodbye letter.

My love,

I’ve been trained for everything I could have ever imagined, but the one thing I was never prepared for was saying goodbye to you. I never learned how to deal with losing you. I never entertained the idea of falling in love before you came into my life.  I never thought I would be able to care for someone as much as you…

Ali dropped her hand down to her side, a scoff leaving her lips as she refused to read any further. She tried desperately to hold her tears back, but her vision was already becoming cloudy and it wouldn’t be long before she was a mess. She had been trying her best not to show him how upset she was, but he was making it difficult. 

“Ali?” he said her name softly, reaching forward to place a hand on her shoulder. 

“Don’t touch me,” she said, shrugging it off, and moving towards the window. 

“You’re mad at me,” Liam stated. 

“I’m not mad at you!” she said, surprised at how hostile her voice sounded. 

She wanted to scream. She wasn’t mad at him. She was mad at herself. She was mad at herself for loving him. She was mad at herself for not breaking things off when she found out that he was a prince and for getting so attached. Deep down there was always a part of her that was scared things wouldn’t work out between the two of them because of this. Why had she ignored that? She should have gotten out before her feelings for him had become so strong. 

“I’m not mad at you,” she whispered, feeling guilty when she saw the hurt on his face. “I’m just going to miss you. It’s easier to push you away than to admit that.” 

“I know,” Liam responded, pulling her into his arms and pressing his lips to her forehead.

A part of her wished that he wouldn’t be so understanding. That he would get mad at her for snapping, and they would fight, so it would be easier to watch him leave. But, deep down she knew she would never be able to live with herself if that’s how she parted ways with him. He meant too much for her to be okay with things ending like that. 

She didn’t want this to hurt so bad, but she had no idea how to make it stop. 

~~~

She slipped off her heels and replaced them with a pair of fuzzy socks and set out towards the east wing. There was no way she was keeping those shoes on any longer. 

She knocked softly on Liam’s door, and he met her with a look of relief on his face.

“You disappeared during the ball, and I was worried that you weren’t going to show up tonight,” he said, pulling her into a tight hug. 

“Yeah, Drake and I went out for something to eat,” she said, wrapping her arms around him as well. 

She felt his body tense up again and pulled away from him with a scoff.

“What was that noise for?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“I just think it’s funny that you get upset about me spending time with Drake when I have to watch women hang off of you and shove their tongues down your throat every day,” she said casually, dropping down onto his bed. 

Liam’s arms dropped and he looked at her with a guilty expression, causing Ali to somewhat regret her petty words. Only a little though. 

“Liam, we’ve both told you a million times. We’re just friends,” she continued ranting, angrily tugging at the hem of her dress. “Besides, you’re the one that asked him to look out for me. Obviously we’re going to end up spending time together!” 

Liam let out a breath and sat next to her, taking her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Seeing you two holding hands last night bothered more than it should have. I believe you when you said that it was innocent. I just didn’t expect to hear you say that you were with him after you disappeared tonight,” Liam admitted, rubbing nervous circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

“I only disappeared because you kissed Olivia.”

He went to speak, but she interrupted him.

“And I know it’s not your fault. She’s one of your suitors, and you can’t play favorites by only spending time with me. I just didn’t expect to see her actually kiss you. It’s easy to forget that it’s not just the two of us when we’re away from court events for a while, so when we come back to this stuff, and I see you spending time with the other ladies it still bothers me. I love you, and it’s not the best feeling in the world.”

She cuddled herself into his arms and allowed him to pull her back into a lying position. Her stomach was in knots and an unsettled feeling washed over her as silence enveloped them. 

“I guess all of this has been hard on both of us,” Liam said. 

“Yeah, it has. I just… I just don’t want you to doubt my feelings for you, Liam. I know that may be hard considering everything that’s happened, but I know how I feel about you. There is no doubt in my mind about any of this. I love you, and I’m glad that I’m here with you,” she said, her stomach still churning.

“And I don’t want you to doubt my feelings for you either. I’m sorry about this kiss, and I shouldn’t have gotten jealous. When I saw you getting close to Drake it... brought up a few insecurities,” Liam said.

“What kind of insecurities?” she asked.

Ali pushed herself up to rest on her elbow so she could see his face as he continued to lay on his back. 

“Drake could give you a proper relationship right now. You wouldn’t have to hide in the shadows and steal moments together. He can give you a normal life. One away from all of this.” 

“Liam, I can live with stealing moments together as long as it doesn’t stay this way forever. The thought that one day we could have a life together, a family together, makes it all worth it. It’s definitely not easy, but I’m willing to do whatever I have to, to make this work because I want this. I want you,” she said, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Thank you. I needed to hear that,” he said, a small smile gracing his features. 

Liam cradled the back of her head in his hand and pulled her into another kiss.

“You looked stunning tonight,” he said, running his hand up the leg that was exposed through the slit of her dress. 

Ali pulled herself up into a sitting position, her smile not completely meeting her eyes. 

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up as well.

“I don’t think that burger is sitting well with me,” she said, clutching her stomach and trying to will away her nausea. 

“Do you need anything?” he asked, concerned.

“Where’s your bathroom?” she asked, quickly standing up.

Liam led her to the bathroom, and she immediately fell to her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet. He stood behind her, holding back her hair and gently rubbing her back. 

“Oh, that burger was a lot better going down than it was coming back up,” she groaned, leaning into his arms.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, it’s my fault. The food was probably too greasy. I’m going to head to bed. I’ll be better in the morning,” she said.

She took a minute to get herself together before getting up. 

“Will I see you tomorrow?’ she asked, making her way to the suite door.

“I’ll find you. Would you like me to walk you back to your room?” he asked. 

She nodded and Liam wrapped her safely in his arms, walking her back to her room where he tucked her under her covers for the night.

[mightyfineblog]

‘La Reina’

Roger Taylor x OC Reader

Description:  You’re a dancer in a shady club. Lonely and abused, you dream of a way out of your misery, which turns out to be a man that goes by the name ‘The Drummer’.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: major angst, graphic violence, mental and physical  abuse, mentions of death, strong language, degradation, light smut.

Note: The setting of the fic is inspired by Gorilla by Bruno Mars. It’s just fiction at the end of the day.

A mood board/ aesthetic in a separate post.

So here it is. Enjoy:

“All I’m saying is, at the end of the day, you get your money straight into your pocket” Gabriela places her hand on your shoulder, as you exhale sharply shaking your head.

“Miguel, may not the be the best guy, but he takes care of us.” Her eyes sincerely warm, as you look up to her.

You open your mouth to talk, but are interrupted by a loud banging on the door.

“Gabriela! You’re up.” A rusty voice shouts from the other side of the cracking door.

“I’m doing new trick tonight. Fingers crossed it’ll be my next hit.” She squints her eyes.

“I’m rooting for ya” you give her a wide grin. “Go, girl.” You give her bum a light smack as she leaves the room straight onto the scene. Taking her place on the stage, the music starts and so does her dance.

Meanwhile, you come close to the decayed old mirror with flickering lights to look at yourself. Running your hand through your hair, you give a little volume as you help yourself with the curling iron. Swiping some red lipstick, you blow yourself a kiss in the mirror.

“I hope I get good tips tonight” you think as you examine your body, spinning around on your high heels. “And hopefully a not so disgusting man would pay me for a private dance, I have to save up as much as I can”. You quietly preach to yourself.

“La Reina!” the same frisky voice that always makes you cringe barges in.

“Hi Miguel.” You keep your eyes focused on doing your makeup.

“You have a customer, guapa.” He speaks, while swirling a cigarette in his mouth.

“What customer? I haven’t even performed yet.” You turn on your chair.

He comes to you close enough for his smelly dirty tank top to be up your nose.  Turning your head away you stand up, but he catches you by your wrist, pulling you down again.

“I said, you have a customer. You don’t make moves on me.” His thick stinky fingers grab your jaw, forcing you to look at him. He lifts his brows waiting for your words.

“Which booth?”  you clench your teeth, trying to break free from his grip.

“Nine” he smiles under his moustache. “That’s better.” He forcefully lets you fall on the chair again. “If it wasn’t me, you’d be dead by now.” He comes close to your face pointing his index finger “You’ve nowhere to go, you’re a zero.” You swallow at his last words, as it stings right where it hurts the most.

“Booth nine.” Your lips barely move.

As you went to give the customer the dance he’s paying for, you can’t help but think of a better life. How one day, maybe soon, you’ll be away from this nasty shithole. But Miguel was right, you have nowhere to go and almost no money. The only friend you have is Gabriela and she’s too deep in this to leave with you.

“The lovely La Reina.” The old man sitting in the booth waves a hundred-dollar note. You gently give him the dance moves he’s expecting, grinding onto his lap just so he can stuff his money in your bra.

After you’re done, it’s your turn to go on stage. Miguel stops you on your way.

“Tonight we have very special guests. It’s their first time here, make them feel warm and welcome.” He intensifies the last two words. “They’re musicians. A band, very popular now. Don’t disappoint me La Reina, or else!” he clenches his jaw.

“I never put a bad show.” You quirk your lips into a smirk.

The audience is quiet when Miguel announces you on the speaker “It’s time you meet the star of the show. Reach deep and take your money out, because I present you La Reina de La Jungla.” The crowd starts cheering.

The lights flash and point at you as the music starts. Determined to give a killer show, you take your time to look at the clientele tonight. As you gracefully move your body around the pole, you notice the new faces. They stand out from the rest. They seem brighter and dressed strangely for this locality. You smirk, as your eyes lay on one of them.

As your dance progresses and you are left with nothing but lingerie and high heels, you wave your hair seductively and swing your hips in rhythm. Then your graze falls on the same man again. He’s hair is blonde and messy. “Interesting”you think, “very unlike everybody around here.” After you finish your dance, everybody in the crowd cheers, but you notice that he doesn’t. He is casually laying his back against the bar with a cigarette and whiskey hanging in the same hand. He is only smirking. “What a weird guy.”You think.

When you head back to the dressing room you see Gabriela gushing with some shiny jewellery. You immediately try to hide your tired face with a fake smile.

“What’s that, mi vida?” you point at her fiddling hands, while preparing to remove your makeup.

“Ai, look.” She opens her hands to reveal sparkly necklace with matching earrings.

“They’re pretty. Who gave it to you?” you give her a warning look, while wiping away your lipstick.

“Who can? Miguel of course!” she shoulder bumps you.

“Why would I even ask.” You shake your head.

“Oh come on. He’s not that bad at all.” Her voice reasoning.

“Yeah, yeah. You know your shit.” You wave your hands in defeat.

“I’ll go get a drink from the bar. Hopefully I’ll get a few more customers tonight.” You reapply your lipstick. On top of your lingerie you slip short tight dress. You put your messy hair in an updo and make your way out.

“Hi Jose, a martini, por favor.” You tap your fingers on the bar, looking around.

“For La Reina, always.” The bartender brings you the liquor filled glass with two olives in it.

“What do we have tonight?” you say to him, as you turn around to examine more carefully.

“These new guys, the band.” He taps on your shoulder to look to your left.

“The blonde one might be your luck tonight. I heard those splurge their cash.” He winks at you.

You smirk, as you bring the glass up to your lips. “We shall find out.” You mouth as you look straight the same guy over again, this time he’s staring back.

You turn your bum seductively around and lay on the bar. Just like clockwork, he shows up next to you and orders whiskey.

“You were incredible up there.” He places his hand on the bar and cocks his head.

“I always do my best.” You take a sip from your drink.

“Your moves were so mesmerizing.” He furrows his blonde brows. “How about you give me a dance in one those booths?” he cocks his head again pointing behind your back.

“They’re only for paying customers.”

“I’ve got plenty of cash.” He puts money on the bar for his drink.

“Follow me.” You swing gracefully around and lead him to the curtained booths.

Once there he takes a comfortable seat with the whiskey in hand. You hop on the table and start moving slowly. Wrapping yourself around the pole you release your hair, making if fall around your shoulders. You see him getting a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. Swiftly you slide down from the pole right in front of him on the table, with your legs wide open you kneel on the same height as his head. Bringing a lighter up to his cigarette he looks into your eyes taking a deep drag. Even with dimmed lights, you can see the wet look in his eyes.

Smiling, you pull away and start to teasingly slide your dress off. With your back flat against the table your legs pointing high up the ceiling you give him a good view.

“Come on my lap” he commands with the cigarette in his mouth and whisky in his hand.

You make your way and situate in him. He watches you intensely as you grind onto him. His lips part with each harder pressure on where he’s getting tight. But soon enough you pull away.

“A’ight blondie, your time’s up.” You open your palm waiting for your cash.

“You’re such a rip off. Was just starting to enjoy the show” he smirked, putting away the leftover of his cigarette in the tray. Searching his pockets, he takes out a few notes, each of one hundred pounds sterling and stands up. Coming extremely close, you take few hesitant steps backward.

“Don’t run from me.” He whispers at your ear, as you feel your heart starting to race. He inhales your smell of heavy perfume and hairspray. His mouth falls on your shoulder to place a warm and rather long kiss there, while his hand stuffs the notes in your bra. You close your eyes and instinctively push your chest further into his touch, before realising the situation. You aren’t allowed to get intimate with the customers. Miguel could beat the shit out of you for such behaviour if this guy comes onto him for it, or at least tells somebody and it gets to Miguel’s ears.

You push him away by his shoulders and look him dead in the eye “I gotta go.” You run off, leaving him puzzled.

“Hey, wait. Why did you run?” he comes a few steps after you. You shake your head, making your way to the dressing rooms. He follows you and bangs on the door.

“Go away.” You try to sound stern and uninterested.

“But…”

“I said, go away.” You shout louder, holding the tears.

“I didn’t even get your name…” his voice falls as his fingers glide over the crown pendant hanging outside your door.

“Hey! You. Muchacho. You can’t be here.” You hear the raspy voice of your boss.

“What? No? I can’t? I was just trying to...” his words are cut off by a, what sounds like, a punch and then a kick.

You rush to open the door, only to find the blonde man standing up the ground with blood on his shirt. You stare at awe, unable to speak a word.

“He threatens one of my girls. Did he hurt you?” his finger reach for your cheek.

“No. Move aside Miguel. The man is hurt, you didn’t have to hit him.” You brush past him to help the guy out.

“I’m so sorry.” You mumble as you try to stop the bleeding from his nose.

“Was it worth it?” he looks thought hooded eyes.

“Worth it what?” you smile gently.

“To get to know your name.” he struggles through coughs.

You chuckle, trying to get him to one of the booths to sit down. Once you place him there you go to grab a glass of water from the bar.

“Here.” You help him drink. After that you dip a handkerchief in what was left in the glass and start brushing the blood off his face. Noting he keeps staring at you, you sigh in defeat and shake your head.

“I go by La Reina.”

He hums and smiles with a wide grin, slowly flicking his long eyelashes, which you study intently.

“La Reina” he repeats.

“Can I know your name too?” you cock your head to the side.

“Roger Taylor. I play in a rock and roll band.” he perks his chest up, but shrugs of the pain.

“Hm.” You nod your head “how intriguing.”

“Indeed.” His brows furrow, “My band’s called Queen.”

“So am I.” you gracefully stand up. Lifting his chin up, you follow his gleaming blue eyes. In this moment, maybe your heartbeat or something, but you see his lips so kissable. Not hesitating for another second, your fingers tighten the grip around his chin, keeping his head up. Quickly lowering yourself you place a kiss against his lips. And it’s everything you trusted you gut it would be, the butterflies in your stomach, the weakness in your knees, the whole world freezing in place.

“Bye, Roger.” You smile at him, as you pull away and turn on your heel to return to your dressing room, leaving him all puzzled once again.

The stupid smile on your face washes away immediately, as you stumble upon Miguel. He blocks your way with his body. You dare to let your eyes meet his, only to see fury in them. Clenching your jaw, you make a move to brush past him. His hand grabs your wrist and brings it up in front of your face “Don’t make me regret the decision I took when I saw you lying half-dead in the dirt that day.”

You give him a stern look and lift your chin up. Letting go, you rush to your dressing room and lock the door behind you. Resting your back against the door, you close your eyes and take deep breaths.

“You alright?”

You notice Gabriela walking towards you.

“I can’t take this anymore.” You shake your head, breathing heavily.

“What happened?” her hands rest on your shoulders.

“This happened. I happened, I’d probably be better off dead by now.” You furiously brush her away.

“Talk to me. I’m your friend.” She hands you a glass of water.

You sigh, taking the water “Take a seat. Tis gon be long.” You assure her.

Later that night, you curl up in your bed. Pushing the sheets down the floor, it’s purely too hot and steamy for you to sleep. Memories of today keep your mind occupied, until you find yourself sobbing.

“Stupid bitch.” You say to yourself, brushing a few burning tears off your cheeks. Opting for a cold shower, you find yourself leaning against the cracked tiles of the bathroom. “Soon. Soon, I’ll be far away.”

Returning to the bed, your body is seemingly refreshed, but no shower can wash your mind. Hugging your pillow tight, you force yourself to drift off to sleep.

You wake up to a pounding sound, coming from somewhere inside. The sour taste of last night’s events still bitter in your mouth. Gulping two aspirins, you decide to stay in bed today. Life can’t get more damned than this.

“The Drummer. He is known as, The Drummer.”

You lift your head to look around where this voice is coming from “Huh?”

“Your guy.” Gabriela sits on the edge of the bed, pulling the sheets off your face.

You growl, pulling them back to cover yourself.

“He’s not my guy. “ you mumble from underneath.

“Then why are you upset over him?” she playfully tickled you.

“Who said I was upset?” you pull the sheets to unveil your messy hair and smudged leftovers of makeup.

“You face mija, says it all.” She concludes.

You shake your head and stand up.

Deciding to try your hardest to push aside all cloudy thoughts, you carry out the rest of your day as usual.

By the time you are ready for dancing in the club again, all tension has vanished your body.

“Look. I’m really feeling good now.” You  assure Gabriela. “That Drummer guy is in the past. Plus he is from far away. He and his band won’t probably set foot here ever again. So no need for me to worry.” You conclude.

“Haha.” She ironically laughs.

“Why you laughing?” You out down the clothes you were holding.

She starts laughing even more hysterically.

“Seriously?!”

“Look” she pulls you to take a peek through the door “It’s him, isn’t it?”

You huff loudly “Damn right he is.”

Going back to your chair you cross your legs to stop your nervous knee. Lighting a cigarette, you take a deep drag closing your eyes. “Looks like it’ll be another hell of a night.” You bite your lip.

“La Reina.” Miguel storms in.

“Unannounced, as always.” You remark.

“Keep your little comments to yourself, you perra.” He grunts, as you give him a frown though the mirror.

“The Drummer wants to see you. Now. And he’s paying good cash for you. Too good in fact.” He seems to be drifting in counting his money once again.

“Good. He may as well buy me off you. I’d rather be a white man’s whore, than yours.” You drop your cigarette in the glass he’s holding.

“Who do you think you are talking to me like that?” he drips the glass on the table and comes near you.

Closing his stinky fingers around your throat, he makes you look at him. “It’s been a while it seems, you little puta have forgotten your place.” He spits though his teeth straight at your face as your eyes shut.

“And she keeps doing it. I’ll show you who’s your boss now.” He drags you by your throat and throws you out of the door, making you trip over your heels and fall.

“Stand up bitch!” he grabs a fistfull of your hair and drags you to the club.

“Stop it! Miguel, stop!?” you scream desperately trying to find a way to escape.

“Shut up!” he gives you a strong slap on the face. Keeping your head down, you don’t even try to hold you tears, as they quickly come running down you reddened cheek stinging as they drop to your chin. “P-please” you quietly manage as your heartbeat silences your hearing.

He grabs you by the hair on the back of your head, forcing you to show your ruined face to him, red cheeks, trembling lips, clenched jaw and runny makeup all over.

“P-ple” you whisper when you see his hand raise for another slap. Shutting your eyes firmly, you brace for another hard hit. Suddenly you hear shouting around the crowd of customers, who have been gathered around all along to watch your punishment.

Unable to open your eyelids from the burning pain and shame, you curl on the floor, trying to hide your sobbing and shaking body.

You hardly hear another man’s voice arguing with Miguel. They shout and scream, probably even got into a fight, but you couldn’t do anything about it. Your body is too weak, physically and emotionally.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your arm, which makes you shrug even more. Turning your head, you see him. It’s him. The Drummer, you will recognise those blue eyes anywhere.

“Let me help you up. Can you stand on your feet?” his soft voice is like a sweet melody after a hurricane. You only manage to nod in response.

Taking his hand, you quickly lift yourself up. Maybe a bit too quickly, because you find your body loosing balance for a second, but he is there. He catches you in his brace. You feel warm and secure, such a weird feeling.

“I, I… What happened?” you start.

“Hush now, everything’s quite alright.” He brushes the back of his finger over your cheek.

“Ouch” you shrug pulling your head away, as your hand instinctively reaches for it.

“Sorry.” Quikly pulls away, but meets your hand. You take his hand with your and bring it back to your cheek. Closing your eyes, you hope it’s all a nightmare and you’ll wake soon and it’ll all be gone.

Unfortunately, when you flick your eyes open, everything is the same. The pain, the ache, The Drummer.

“Come with me.” He gently tugs at your other hand.

“B-but, what? Where?” you nervously start to look around.

“He is gone. For now.” Roger leans closer to you. “You don’t have long, before he’s back. You either stay or come with me.” He instructs.

“The latter, I guess.” A glimpse of hope lights on your face.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He smiles widely at you.

“Let’s get outta here.” He stands up taking your hand.

Leading you outside, before you could do anything about it, you see your friend waving at you. Gabriella is leaning against the doorframe, waving at you. Giving you hope.

“B-but.” You can’t quite put the pieces together.

“Let’s talk once we are away from here. Okay?” his hand squeezes yours, as he opens the door of a car for you. Taking the seat next to you, he revved up the engine. Looking through the back window, you see dust in the air, like a sandstorm and Gabriela still waving at you from the entrance of the club. The image of her and the club vanishes slowly before your eyes, like a memory fading away, waking up from a nightmare. Leaving the past behind you in a dark cloud.

Turning to look at the road in front, you see the light of the sun. A hope for a new life.

“Roger.” You murmur with your head down “Can we talk?”

He licks his lips and nods. Pulling over the side of the road, you notice you’re well out of town. You are in the middle of nowhere in fact.

“W-where are we? Where are you taking me?” you frantically look around.

He turns off the engine and takes off his dark sunglasses. You stare deep into his blue eyes, studying his face. You realise it’s the first time you see him in daylight. He is handsome, and his hair is so blonde, complimenting his eye colour.

He clenched his jaw and fists around the steering wheel. “That twat, your boss.” He shakes his head, and you see his knuckles turn white.

You head fell down to look at you trembling fingers. Taking a deep gulp you open your mouth to speak, but he speaks first.

“I. I came to see you.” He takes a breath “Only to find you on the bloody floor being beaten by him.” You sense the rage in his voice.

“It, it was my fault.” Shame burning you on the inside, you turn your head away.

“No.” he states “It was all mine actually.” His hand reaches to touch your hair, but you shrug, like a delicate flower.

“Sorry” he pulls away. “If I hadn’t followed you last night, none of this would’ve happened.”

“How?... How did he let you get away with it? Me…” you finally gain the courage to look him in the eyes. Chewing your bottom lip, you nervously swallow.

“Don’t matter.” He shakes his head “I… I felt something for you.”

Maybe it’s the rush, maybe it’s pure lust, but you let the urge take over you. You reach over and swiftly press your lips against his. Pulling away with a soft gasp, you open your eyes only to find him leaning forward for more.

“Roger.” You whisper. “Take me as far away as possible from here.” You give him a more luscious kiss, sucking on his sweet lips.

“Ss what I’m doing La Reina.”

You unbuckle your seatbelt and throw a leg over his side, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. He pushes the seat back, as his hands gently find their way to your hips.

You hover your lips over his “I’ve craved your lips ever since” you confess.

“La Reina, is that even your real name?” he cocks his head to the side.

Maybe it’s the burning sun, or the dry weather but you feel sweating already and your breath is heavy above his lips. Inhaling his smell, you let a small chuckle.

“No” you shake your head leaning in to draw another breath off his lips.

“What is it then?” he murmurs not breaking from the kiss.

“Doesn’t matter.” You moan, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth, earning a small groan from him.

“You’re right” he breaths when you release, “You’re my queen anyway, I might as well keep calling you that.”

You smirk down on him, as your hands find their way around the back of his neck, your lips start placing small kisses under his jaw. Going slightly down his neck, your tongue peeks every now and then, as your hips grind harder and harder against his lap. Feeling his bulge growing under your legs, you can’t help but moan at the way his hands grip at your hips.

“God” he exhales the breath he is holding “and you’re all mine”

Freezing in place you slowly pull your head off his chest to give him a confused look “Yours?”

“Mhm” he reaches to kiss over your neck and sternum. Putting your hands on his shoulders to keep a steady posture, you give him a more serious voice “What do you mean?”

“Mmm, you’re so fine.” He nuzzles between your breasts. “Yes, mine. I bought you off him.”

You pull far away from his touch, extending your arms to keep the distance.

“Bought me??!”

“How do you think I got you out of there on the first place?” he gives you a victory look in his eyes.

“Unbelievable.” You shuffle and return to your seat. “I’m not an object, which you can own.” You huff.

“He owned you before me!” Roger waves his hands in the air.

“No, he did not!” you exclaim

“You’re a stripper, for god sake’s!” he yells.

“That doesn’t make me a slut. I haven’t fucked with Miguel.” You yell back.

“What about his customers, huh? If I had requested, you’ve sucked my cock too.” He yells once again.

The last words sting just as much as Miguel’s slaps, and you find yourself mortified again.

“I, I… I don’t sleep with clients or give them blowjobs for that matter.” You cry out. Getting out of the car, you shut the door close and rest your back against it.

Roger’s head falls down, as his fingers rub his eyes. “Fuck” he whispers.

“Fuck!” he utters louder. “Fuck!” he yells punching the steering wheel.

Getting out of the car and comes over to you. Leaning his back on the door, taking a pack of cigarettes off his pocket, his lips draw one off. He hands you the pack. Your eyes go from him to the pack and back, before your trembling fingers take one out.

“Mso sorry.” he mumbles, puffing out smoke.

“I guess I deserved it too.” You look up to the twilight sky, swiping the sweat off your temple.

The two of you finish your cigarettes in silence, but you can tell the tension lifting. Hopping back in your seats you both stare at the dusty road ahead of you.

“Just get me out of this miserable shithole, Roger.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He brings your hand up to his lips to place a soft kiss over your knuckles.

You give him a soft smile and squeeze his hand in reassurance.

“I promise I won’t disappoint you.” He looks over your knuckles “if you let me”

“I knew, you were something else from the moment you walked in that club, Drummer.”

He smiles back at you, driving off into the sunset. You bite your lip, dreaming about the new future awaiting you, hoping for a better life.

…

A/n: I wasn’t intentionally planning on doing a second chapter, but  i’m starting to think about what happens after? Where does he take her? How he introduces to her his life and career, how he explains it to the band? How does their relationship take off from there , and is it as good as she thought it would be?

[mittensmorgul]

Makeshift

Of course I had to write a thing for Dean’s 40th birthday. Unrepentantly silly fluff. Enjoy!

Rating: T Words: 2200 or thereabouts Dean/Cas, and Sam on the side :)

Read it below, or on the ao3 here

Dean had been in a mood all day. Sam knew better than to poke at him about it. They’d been out in the frigid January Minnesota air staking out an old warehouse on the edge of town. Donna had called them in for backup rounding up a couple of Michael’s vampires who’d decided they weren’t ready to go back to hiding in the shadows after their connection to his power was severed. They may not have had Michael’s grace giving them superpowers anymore, but they were still as slippery as any vampires they’d ever dealt with. Old, strong, and worst of all, smart.

Still, though, Cas had been confused by Dean’s grouchiness. He’d woken up that morning in a strange mood, and it had only grown worse and worse all day. Not even the promise of a satisfying end to their miserable hunt had given him the least bit of cheer. They’d spent a frozen dozen hours sitting out in the snow, only to hear from one of Donna’s trusted local informants that the vamps had been spotted leaving town, headed north into the forests that bled into Canada. That had been Dean’s last straw.

Cas could definitely understand his frustration. They’d wasted an entire day while enduring intensely unpleasant circumstances. He and Sam felt that frustration just as acutely as they warmed up in their motel room. But rather than relief at the notion that they may have intimidated the last of Michael’s monsters back into submission, or even contentment at the prospect of a long, hot shower and a warm bed to climb into, Dean seemed almost melancholy, and that was something Cas couldn’t understand. When they’d returned to their motel room, Dean had headed directly for the shower. As soon as the water started up, Cas quietly asked Sam what was wrong.

“It was a bad hunt and a bad day,” Sam said, not looking up from searching through his bag for a warmer pair of socks to wear. “Plus I think he’d probably rather been doing anything else today, you know?”

Cas frowned at that and shook his head. When it was clear that no further explanation was forthcoming, Cas clarified. “No, Sam, I don’t know. Dean usually enjoys hunting, and while I understand today was difficult, I assumed he’d be happier to have been able to help Donna this way, even if we don’t have a pile of dead vampires to show for it.”

Sam looked up at him, holding a fluffy wool sock in each hand, blinking in surprise. There was no way Cas could not know it was Dean’s birthday, right? “He turned forty today. That’s a kinda milestone birthday for most people, but I think he hoped to spend it doing something more fun than freezing his ass off in the woods.”

Cas’s bafflement melted into a frown, his eyebrows pinching together. “Yes, he mentioned wanting to cook a big dinner and watch some of his favorite movies. I was surprised enough that he hadn’t wanted to do something more celebratory. But then again, this marks a different sort of milestone for him.”

It was Sam’s turn to frown now, halfway through peeling off his snow-soaked socks. Cas, however didn’t make him ask for clarification.

“He’s been alive on Earth longer than he was in Hell now.”

Sam’s bare foot went clunking to carpet and his mouth dropped open as he blinked up at Cas. “Well, shit.”

Cas took a deep breath. “Do you think we have time to surprise him tonight?”

Sam reached over to Dean’s jacket, draped across a chair, and snagged the car keys. He tossed them to Cas. “I saw a grocery store about half a mile down the road, out toward the highway. Get a case of the good beer, and whatever else you can find that’s festive. After eating cold fast food burgers all day, that’s probably anything in the store. But you know what he likes. And hurry. He’ll be out of the shower soon, and I won’t be able to distract him long.”

Cas gave a terse nod and was out the door like a flash. The store was blessedly uncrowded, but also not terribly well stocked. The locals had picked it over the day before, preparing for the snow that had fallen overnight. At least the roads were clear again, enough for the store to be open at all. He raced through the aisles, gathering snacks, a package of multicolored balloons and an assortment of sparkly cardboard party hats, and hoped Hair Raiser Lager was what Sam had deemed the good beer , before heading off toward the bakery in search of the one thing he knew was a birthday tradition.

It wasn’t as if he’d had time to call ahead and place an order, so he was stuck making a selection from the meager pickings available in the grocery store's bakery section. He grabbed a box of tiny candles and a tube of green icing he could use to write the message on top the way he knew it was typically done. He frowned down at his purchases as they crept along the belt at the checkout station. No, on second thought, nothing about this was traditional.

After all his items had been scanned, bagged and paid for, he paused at the end of the counter, opened up the pastry box, and as best he could, added the message, Happy Birthday, Dean. He debated adding some other sort of artwork, but after a moment of indecision, he deferred to making haste and getting back to the motel as quickly as possible.

As soon as he shut off the engine, he knew he’d taken too long. He heard Dean through the door to their room, and suddenly doubted his entire mission.

“So you just sent him out alone, in the dark, in this shitty weather, for fucking snacks ?”

“Dean, he offered to go. He was upset that you were having such a bad day, okay? He wanted to cheer you up.”

“Yeah, well, I’d be a lot fucking cheerier if he was here, and not probably flipped over in a snowy ditch, or whatever.”

Sam snorted at that as Cas quickly gathered his shopping bags and the case of beer. He eyed the pastry box sitting carefully on the seat beside him, but decided it would be best to make a second trip back out for it. He needed to reassure Dean that everything was fine. He hadn’t meant to make things even worse.

He hurried to the motel room door, but just as he was about to knock, it flew open to reveal Dean standing there with his coat half on, clearly about to storm out of the room. The moment he saw Cas, it wasn’t anger on his face, though. Cas wasn’t completely sure, but it looked more like profound relief. All of Dean’s distress fled as Cas held out the beer. Dean shrugged out of his jacket and took it from him, stepping back into the room so Cas could enter.

“Hey, you got the good stuff,” Dean said, grinning up at Cas as he knelt down to shove as many of the bottles as he could into the tiny fridge.

Cas set the rest of his bags down on the bed in front of Sam, opening the bag with the balloons and party hats and giving Sam a knowing look. Sam smirked at him and gave an approving nod.

“I have one more thing out in the car. I’ll be right back.”

He returned a moment later with the pastry box, just as Sam crept up behind Dean with a shimmery golden cardboard crown emblazoned King of the Party in rainbow glitter. Dean glanced up to see Cas set the telltale box on the table beside him, giving Sam the perfect opportunity to stretch the crown’s elastic chin strap around Dean’s head.

“Surprise!” Cas said in a moderately enthusiastic tone.

Dean resisted his initial impulse to lash out behind him out of sheer instinct, and instead overbalanced and ended up on his ass on the floor, pawing at his neck where the elastic band had snapped at his skin.

“What the fuck?”

Dean reached up slowly and felt the crown on his head, and pulled it off to see what the hell it was. He read the words, putting the pieces together as Sam handed Cas a conical cardboard hat lined with some sort of fluffy feather shit and a party horn. Cas put the hat on and then examined the horn, his eyes widening as he bent over in front of Dean. He blew into the horn and it unrolled just far enough to whap Dean on the forehead. Cas was just about to apologize, after seeing the flinch in Dean’s eyes, when Dean fell over laughing. Cas and Sam just exchanged a puzzled glance, and Sam shrugged as they watched Dean pour out twelve hours of stress in less than two minutes through the sheer power of laughter. Cas was about to ask if he was okay, but Dean wheezed and choked his way through a few gasps of air and grinned up at him.

“Holy shit, I’d been about to run out in the snow after you, and you were just out happily bringing back the best thing I coulda gotten today. Damn, Cas. You did good.” Dean scrambled to his feet, kicking the fridge shut and handing Sam and Cas each a beer. “But you know that birthday cake doesn’t exactly pair well with beer.”

Cas squinted at Dean and took a sip of his drink. “Then I suspect we should be glad the store was sold out of traditional birthday cake.” He set his bottle down and opened the box, revealing an exquisite Boston cream pie with his hasty birthday message for Dean written in the tidiest frosting handwriting Dean had ever witnessed.

Dean abandoned his own beer to lean over the cake in awe. “Whoa, did you do this?”

“I wrote the message, yes,” Cas replied. “But I bought the cake.”

Dean looked up at him in wonder. “You bought a pie cake for my birthday.”

Cas nodded. “Yes. As well as an assortment of chips and a cheese platter. And some balloons.”

“Don’t forget the hats,” Sam added, scratching at where the elastic band of his pointy hat was digging into his ear.

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and was about to carve into the cake when Cas’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“There are traditions to observe first, Dean.”

He carefully placed four of the tiny candles in the cake and then rummaged in his pockets for a matchbook to light them. Dean added a fifth candle, and Cas squinted at him. Dean just shrugged in response.

“For luck.”

Cas nodded approvingly and lit them. Dean even tolerated Sam and Cas singing Happy Birthday to him, not even laughing at their attempt to harmonize, and then blew them all out.

“I hope you get your wish,” Cas told him quietly while Sam brought over paper plates and plastic forks and began serving up slices.

“I think I might’ve already got it, actually,” he replied, giving Cas an unusually soft and fond look.

Cas stared at him for a moment and then smiled. “Yes, you may have.”

Sam held out a plate for Dean, but Dean was too busy suffering through some sort of mid-life crisis to notice. It may have been the quickest mid-life crisis in history, because seconds later he pulled Cas into a hug. When he didn’t let go, Cas gently patted his back.

Dean muttered into Cas’s neck, clinging to the back of his coat, “I didn’t want to spend this whole day in hell again, so thank you. Thanks for this. For pulling me out the first time, and then pulling me up every time I’ve fallen again since then.”

Cas sighed, holding Dean tighter like he’d done the day he’d pulled Dean from Perdition. “Thank you for doing the same for me, Dean.”

Dean sighed into his neck, lingering for just a moment, but unable to convince himself to push this any further. He wasn’t sure just how far a birthday wish could take him. Even with an extra candle for luck.

“So is this a better birthday now?” Cas asked.

Dean pulled back and looked over to see Sam grinning at them both encouragingly.

“Yeah, it’s definitely getting there.”

It wasn’t his own favorite home cooking, and it wasn’t the comfort of home, but Dean had exactly what he wanted for his birthday. The three of them settled in and watched some dumbass ghost hunters show for a few hours, laughing particularly hard when the guys on screen fled in terror from a building they knew full well hadn’t had a single ghost in it since they’d cleared it out a few years back. A few hours later, after Dean had nodded off with his head on Cas’s shoulder, Cas had to agree. It might not have been perfect, but it was definitely getting there.

(in case you need it again, it’s on the ao3)

[artificialqueens]

If Only You Could Ease My Mind (Branjie) - bitchimtiredpls

a/n  I saw a prompt on here a few days ago about 5+1 kisses and just had to come back for Branjie. Its been a few years since I’ve written and that was mostly Rajila and under a different name. I just wanna give the biggest thank you to Cat aka PinkGrapeFruit for helping me edit and just being amazing (and also alcohol for helping me write haha) I was so intimidated because she is an incredible writer and such a nice person for offering to help me xx 

The first time it happened was unexpected. All of the queens were hanging out in Brooke’s hotel room since everyone had decided that from that day whoever won the main challenge was to host a little celebration. Having just finished filming episode one, they were all happy and enjoying letting loose a little after the stress of the first days of the competition.

Brooke was ecstatic because he won the first challenge. This had cemented himself as someone not to underestimate or fuck with. Admittedly he hoped that the others would see that in him the moment he walked into the werkroom for the first time. The Canadian anthem playing throughout the massive pink studio space was just the cherry on top of his perfectly fitted, sparkly red blazer and thigh-high gold boots. 

Vanjie was just as happy at not repeating last years nightmare, something that had haunted her since the moment she walked backwards off the runway nearly a year prior. She was worried when Ru revealed that the first episode was another design challenge, but took everything she had learned on the show (and throughout the past year) and applied it. She made sure to have a clearly defined silhouette, while also keeping her style within the confines of what Valentina’s designated box afforded

He hadn’t meant for anything to happen, but sitting there on the small balcony with the smell of cigarettes and Vanjie enveloping his senses - Brooke couldn’t help but lean in. Staring into the shorter man’s cinnamon coloured eyes, he didn’t close his own until his lips met Vanjies. It was a soft kiss, lasting only a few seconds before he pulled away. However, those two seconds made enough of an impression that neither of them could stop thinking about it until the next time their lips met, only a couple days later. _______________________________

The second time he was a little more prepared. The queens were all gathered in Scarlet’s hotel room to celebrate the end of filming episode two. Raising up her glass, Silky paid tribute to Kahanna.

“Girl, she was fine as fuck and will be missed, but another bitch down and 12 more to go before I get my crown!” 

All of the queens cackled at Silky’s ambitiousness (and thirst) over Kahanna. Each one of them gave a little bit of side-eye over her claim to win the competition.

After what happened at the last celebration, Brooke had made the decision to sit next to the petite Puerto-Rican but started to question himself as Vanjie got louder and louder the more she drank and the more excited she got. Once he realised that Silky was on the other side of Vanjie, Brooke really started to regret their seating arrangement. However, the moment that she put her much smaller hand on top of his, the regret dissipated immediately - leaving him content and able to stand the noise that the self-dubbed ‘Dream girls’ (consisting of Vanjie, Silky and A’Keria) were making.

As they all wound down and started to head back to their own rooms, Brooke decided to stop at Vanjies room. Fortunately, the younger queen was only a few doors down from his own room. Vanjie smiled at him, inviting him in with a roll of his eyes. Brushing his hand across her chest, Brooke walked into the hotel room and sat at the end of the queen sized bed that was situated in the middle of the floor. She noted that despite Vanjie’s prior fame and notoriety, she still got the same sized room as the rest of them.

Leaning down to tie his shoes (he noticed they had come undone on the short walk here), he heard the door close and the lock click into place. Glancing up, Brooke watched as Vanjie walked towards him. Her smile and heavy-lidded eyes promised more of the things to come. Smirking back, Brooke knew something was about to happen and couldn’t wait. He could feel the energy in the air like electricity, crackling all around them. One touch and there would be sparks flying. One kiss and their clothes went flying.

_______________________________

The third kiss wasn’t really their third kiss but going up to Vanjie in the middle of the workroom felt entirely natural to him. Like it was something he had been doing all his life. Something, he realised with a start - he wanted to do all of his life. If you asked him later on, this was the moment Brooke realised he wanted to be more than just a ‘summer fling’.  Something he wanted to be real. 

“Hey, Papi.” He said as he wrapped his athletic arms around the smaller queen, placing a quick little peck on Vanjies smooth lips. Brooke just couldn’t help himself. It was the looks they had been sharing all day, little winks and touches on the van to the studio. The way they sat at lunchtime when the shitty food was handed out and how they looked at each other whenever they passed in the werkroom. It all made him long to touch him properly, the way that they had the previous night.

Brooke could see that she was surprised at his actions and he wondered briefly if she had wanted to keep them on the down-low for a while. The sweet smile that followed their short embrace reassured him that he had made the right decision. A brief spark ran down his spine at the lingering touch they shared. The feeling recurred throughout the day with every glance and soft conversation between them.

All the queens in the werkroom looked over at them throughout the day. Giving each other little smirks and looks of interest at the new development. They still thought that no one had clocked their longer than normal glances, touches and intense conversations yet. Although neither of them had really tried or meant for anything to happen, it sort of just did. No one was mad at the development.

______________________________

As the weeks wore on and the remaining pool of queens grew smaller, both Brooke and Vanjie made an agreement. If one of them were to be eliminated the other would not be upset and would not lose focus on the competition. So when Vanjie was eliminated in fifth place, leaving Brooke alone in the top four, he tried hard to seem like he wouldn’t miss her. To be honest, though, it really hurt.

It felt like they were breaking up in a relationship that wasn’t even fully formed. For the single, painful week that they were apart. Brooke felt like a piece of himself was missing and he absolutely hated that he felt like this. He wondered if he was the only one or if Vanjie missed him just as much. 

They hadn’t really even said a proper goodbye, she just left with whispered promises to see each other and long meaningful kisses. Filled with thoughts about the future. Whispers of dates and waking up to each other, laying in bed all day just to be up all night. Vacations and meeting each other’s pets, Vanjie with her dog and Brooke with his cats. Going to each other’s drag shows and exploring their cities with each other as tour guides showing hidden spots they found, finding new cafes and restaurants together. Just being together. No competitions, no hiding in hotel rooms, just them.

Brooke Lynn was surprised to see a small and familiar body waiting for him in the lobby of the hotel. Admittedly, looking back on it later he really shouldn’t have been so shocked. The kiss that followed their long overdue hug wasn’t something Brooke wanted to ever forget and he wouldn’t for the longest time. 

The intensity overwhelmed him. Pulling her against his chest he sighed into it. He whispered her name softly as he tightened his grip against Vanjie’s arms, making her moan into him. His tongue made his way across her lips, the gentle motion making her gasp. He took advantage of her lips opening and moved to explore the softness of her mouth with his tongue. As he went to remove it, Vanjie caught his tongue between her teeth, gently nipping it before letting go. Pressing his lips hard against her mouth he tried to convey all his feelings from the past week and he hoped to hell that she could interpret the way he felt about her. The way he’d needed her for that week that was agonizingly too long.

Staying in LA a week longer than he needed to was an easy decision. Being with Vanjie made him happier than he had ever felt and before that week was over he knew he loved her. He loved the loud, brash, adorable and unapologetically herself, Vanessa Vanjie Mateo. _______________________________

Vanjie had no idea that one small kiss with a handsome Canadian on a balcony of some hotel in Los Angeles, would ever lead to this day.

As they met at the end of the aisle, underneath a massive arch of beautiful daisies, peonies and vines, Vanjie couldn’t keep his eyes off the man standing in front of him. At 6’3 to his own 5’9 Vanjie had to crane his neck to look into Brooke’s perfectly blue eyes. The older man leaned his own head down to look at him, seemingly staring right into his soul. 

Staring up at the older blonde, he had never felt so content, so happy, so at home. He knew that no matter what happened, they would have each other forever. Thinking about this made Vanjie begin to tear up. He tried to look down at his shoes in semi-embarrassment but he felt strong hands cup his cheeks, tilting his head back up to look at his almost husband.

Seeing Brooke mouth the words ‘I love you’ made the tears come faster and by the time he repeated the words after the chaplain, a lump had formed in his throat. It made his already comically husky voice even harsher. Vanjie didn’t care though. Those two words were the only thing that he cared about that day.

“Brock Hayhoe, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Jose Cancel, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I do" 

Standing on his toes to reach his husband, Vanjie couldn’t help the gigantic grin that crossed his face. As Brooke leaned down to kiss him, a smile graced his face, just as big. Just as full of love. Vanjie truly felt, that out of all their kisses throughout the years, all of their kisses since that simple, soft kiss that started it all and of all the kisses to come. - This kiss would be his favourite.

[rosesisupposes]

Do It For Us

Sequel to Do It For Him

word count: 5,881

pairing: Royality, background Analogical

warnings: Some mentions of poverty, forced ending of friendships, Deceit Is A Bit Of A Dick, mention of arranged/forced marriage, but mostly Quite A Lot of Fluff

reader tags: @residentanchor​ @royally-anxious​ @bewarethegrammarpolice​ @jemthebookworm​ @arandompasserby​  @sparkly-rainbow-salt​ @astral-eclipse​​ @thelowlysatsuma​ @adorably-angsty​

And, of course, happy birthday month to Royality Queen @notveryglittery and a million thanks to my beta reader and platonic wife @mariniacipher

I had so much fun with the previous fluff, and then @xxxbladeangelxxx inspired me to give the sunshine gays a sequel <3

Read on ao3

Sun glinted and flashed over the metallic staccato of swords clashing against each other. Grunts of efforts mixed with heavy breathing, as two men squared off in the castle courtyard. One feinted to his right then brought his blade in a flashing arc to his left, but his opponent saw through the ruse and blocked easily before retaliating with a snake-like thrust, laying his blade on the other’s neck. The man knelt, acknowledging defeat.

“I yield.”

“A good match, Ian!”

The kneeling man smiled, shaking sweat-matted hair out of his eyes. “It’s kind of you to say, but we all know you’re just so gods-cursed fast, Sir Roman. All we can hope for is to hold our own.” The standing knight grinned, auburn hair only just barely dark at the edges from exertion. “That’s what training’s for, is it not? Learning how to beat me.”

Roman was stretching and chatting with other knights and soldiers in the training yard when he caught sight of a silent audience member to the early morning exercises.

He slipped over to the corner to greet his Prince, grabbing a damp towel on the way to wipe his face.

“Patton, dearest, what wakes you so early?”

The young heir to the throne grinned up impishly at the knight-captain of his guard. “A little birdie told me you practiced shirtless.”

None of his bravado and bluster was enough to prepare Roman for this. A blush immediately spread across his cheeks as his gaze dropped. He was the man primarily responsible for the kingdom’s heir, and he’d run his mother’s farm for years before beginning the rigorous knight training of the past decade and a half. Every inch of his body had been toned in service to the crown and the prince in front of him. And said prince was gazing besottedly at his muscled chest with a warmth that had nothing to do with lust. Or rather, almost nothing.

Pulling them both around the corner, out of view of the soldiers, Roman leaned down to kiss Patton softly. Patton smiled up into the kiss, feeling the heat of Roman’s continuing blush. He broke apart, letting the sensation linger, when suddenly he squeaked as Roman lifted him and spun him around.

“Who knew our sweet prince was so shallow?” he asked with a lopsided grin.

“Only my gaze is shallow: my love is deep,” the prince responded, giggling as he regained his footing. He kissed Roman’s cheek and delighted in the pink tinge that resumed there.

“Dear one, as much as I love to see you, I am starving. I’m on my way to the kitchens unless you need my protection now?”

Patton’s smile dropped for a moment before returning. “No, sweet. I would never keep you from your meals. I will be in my room.”

Growing up as a single child in a royal family meant a young Patton had to be rather creative when it came to making friends. An impressively strong sweet tooth combined with an ability to easily slip past his etiquette teacher led him to toddle down to the kitchens almost every other day. Puppy eyes earned him cookies from the maids and chefs unable to resist. It was after a successful mission, when he was sitting in his favorite alcove, munching on macarons, that he spotted another boy his age.

“Hey! Hello! Who are you?” he piped up happily, waving with his free hand. The other balanced his haul of violet cookies in his now-stained tunic.

The boy froze, eyes wide as he realized the comment had been indeed aimed at him.

“Me? ‘M no one.”

“Silly, no one is no one!” the little prince said cheerfully. “Do you wanna mac’ron?”

The boy approached shyly. “Yeah, that would be nice. They’re my fav’rite color too.”

Patton handed the dark-haired child one of the tiny sandwiches. Cautiously, the other bit into it.

“Oh! ‘S good!” he exclaimed, mouth full.

“What’s your name?”

“Um, Virgil. Virge.”

“I’m Patton! Hi!”

Virgil nearly dropped the remaining half of the cookie. “The prince?”

“Uh-huh! Here, do you want another?”

“I, uh, no, I can’t, they said I can’t talk to the prince or the king or the duke because I’m too little and shy, I don’t wanna be bad.”

“That’s silly,” the little prince said. He squinted at the other boy. He’d already decided that Virge was his new best friend - for the first time, an adult hand wasn’t immediately pulling him away from him. “Dada is very nice. An’ Lyle is silly. You won’t be bad for talking to them!”

Virgil swallowed, then ate more of the cookie. “You sure?”

“Of course!” Patton responded, beaming. “Do you wanna play with me?”

Every day, Virgil expected he’d see the last of the prince, that playing hide-and-seek with a scullery servant would lose its appeal. But instead, their friendship only grew as the years stretched on.

When they were ten, he’d snuck Patton out of the castle for the first time, checking behind him every second. But they’d made it into the city without detection. They’d played hopscotch with other children in the main square, helped a seamstress hold her fabric still, and found a mother cat giving birth to a litter of kittens. Not even discovering his allergy to the fluffy creatures had dampened the young royal’s spirits, and they’d snuck back into the castle high on success.

When they were fourteen, Patton had found Virgil hiding in the dark corner, trying to calm racing thoughts that wouldn’t shut up. Patton had held his hand, talking quietly, and gotten him to start listing what he could see and feel. Virgil had confessed that he’d never tried those strategies before. Patton had hugged him tight to make up for all the times he hadn’t been there.

Roman had put a shirt on, at last, to go find food after training. Following his nose, he spied jam tarts cooling on the counter and slipped into the kitchen through the back door. Cautiously, he went to take a treat, only to get his hand slapped by a mixing spoon. Virgil’s glare made him smile sheepishly.

“Just one?”

“If you want to explain to the full Noble’s Council why their pastry tray isn’t perfectly arranged, then yes, you may have ‘just one,’” the pastry chef complained. “You know we have regular food down here, too.”

Roman sighed dramatically. “But without pastries, how will I survive? How will I live? I beg of you, take pity on me!”

“Then beg,” Virgil responded flatly. Then he made the mistake of making eye contact with the knight and snorted, falling into true laughter. “I’m making regular jam cookies later, Ro. Come back in the afternoon, I’ll keep some on the side for you. These are just the nice ones, kay?”

Roman grinned. “This is why you’re the coulis-t person I know, Virge.”

Virgil groaned in response. “I never should have taught you proper pastry terms. Talyn has some sliced ham and rolls in the next room, go beg from them, alright? I need to finish decorating.”

The knight gave a small mock of a bow and obeyed.

He and Virgil hadn’t always been so friendly. As a young man arriving to the castle for knight training, he’d haunted the kitchens every waking moment. The idea of a full belly was still exciting to a boy whose farm had struggled with droughts for almost half his life. But his sister and her husband had taken over the farm, and he’d been picked out for his strength to become a fighter.

He’d spent his first month in the castle sneaking into the storerooms at every given opportunity, eating anything he thought he could get away with. The kitchen helper, who was about his age, perhaps a year younger, had caught him first in the middle of the day, despite the lunch rush, then in the dead of night. How had he even been awake?

Roman was self-conscious of his hunger, surrounded by all that wealth, and lashed out at the creepy cookie who kept turning up when he least expected it.

But then, one quiet afternoon, he’d been sure the kitchens would be entirely empty. It was the rest period, so surely the safest time for a quick snack. Walking cautiously, he’d rounded the corner, only to see Virgil, covered in flour and butter stains as he carefully plaited a pie crust into a sheaf of wheat. The serenity of his concentration, the clear ease that came with no kitchen madness around him, and his proud smile as he successfully sealed his pastry forced Roman to see him in a new light. He’d cautiously come forward and complimented a job well done. One would think he’d actually seen a field of wheat, once!

The other man had nearly jumped out of his skin at first, but had then calmed enough to wave off the compliment with a smile. They’d had an actual conversation for the first time ever, and hundreds more soon followed. A strange friendship, perhaps, one that was tested every time Virgil made homemade jam for a treat that Roman wasn’t allowed to eat, but a strong friendship all the same.

Roman often wished he was able to show his love for Patton more openly, so that he could introduce the prince to the friends he’d made in the castle.

As he got into uniform to begin an official day as Patton’s protector, Roman spared a sigh for an old friend he’d yet to find here in the capital city. Growing up in a small farming community on the furthest borders of the kingdom, Roman had known only his siblings and parents until a new family moved into the plot next door. Their house burst with children, but there was one boy his age, one who viewed his very energetic siblings with a world-weary eye, even at seven years old.  But Roman, the youngest by a huge age gap, was lonely, and jumped at even a stick-in-the-mud as a potential playmate.

Their parents saw Logan and Roman’s friendship as oil and water, yelling matches during chores, long arguments that stretched through the harvest. But their clashes only showed how well-matched they were, how their competition forced them both to improve. Logan brought home books from the headwoman’s private library and introduced Roman to classics and plays, if only so they could immediately argue about the proper interpretation. More than one winter’s night found them in one of the barns with Roman leaping around a makeshift stage in an effort to prove how dramas were meant to be seen, not read.

But then, Logan left. The headwoman knew how much his parents struggled through the droughts with so many mouths to feed, and saw Logan’s innate brilliance. She found an opportunity for him to receive room and board in the capital city itself, and he’d be able to receive the best education Solarya had to offer. It was everything he could have wanted - except, he couldn’t bring his friend. Roman couldn’t leave his farm, anyway - his older brother was serving in the army, his sister had married and moved, and there was no one else to help his parents.

“Lo, I promise, someday I’ll come join you! You’ll see!”

“Roman, while I hope you’re correct, do not make promises you may never be able to keep. It is enough to say that we will try to reunite one day.”

They were standing at the gate, waiting for the coach that would take Logan and his few worldly possessions away, when Roman impulsively hugged the other boy. “I’ll miss you, Logan.”

The eleven-year-old stiffened, then hesitantly hugged back. “I… will miss you as well, Roman.”

Logan hadn’t expected the capital to be so overwhelming. Obviously there would be more people, but why was it so loud? Did more people in one space mean everyone needed to shout all the time? Even inside the castle, there was ambient sound everywhere. He didn’t find his first moment of peace until he was shown to the library. And the quiet of the room couldn’t compare to the symphony of excitement in his brain. Who knew there were so many books? So much knowledge to be unlocked! He was about to dive in when the closing door behind him caught his attention.

“Hello there!” a cheerful voice said in a very energetic library whisper. “You must be Logan!”

Turning, he caught sight of a jovial-looking man in the robes of a Royal University scholar. Round glasses balanced atop a long nose above a huge smile. “I’m Dr. Picani, your tutor. Do you how do?”

Logan stared. This man was not at all what he’d pictured as the most-respected professor in the kingdom. And what was that last sentence? He recognized all the words, but not in that order.

“Uh, hello?” he murmured back. “Yes, I’m Logan. I… sorry, you’re my tutor?”

“You betcha!” the happy man replied. “Not yours alone, of course. We’ll be sharing our time with one other student, who should arrive any second. Let’s go to the study room, shall we?”

He led the way to a small room that contained even more books in addition to a huge slate hung on the wall and two tables with a handful of chairs. Logan sat, still a bit dazed.

Barely a moment had passed before a rap sounded on the door. Dr. Picani opened it to reveal a huge soldier with a no-nonsense expression. “Dr. Picani. His Highness for his lessons.”

The professor nodded, and the soldier stepped aside to reveal a boy a bit younger than Logan. He had clean golden curls and wore a silk tunic. Logan was immediately uncomfortable. Sharing a class with a noble? Who’d probably be much smarter and resentful of sharing a class with a less-educated commoner? He looked down at the wood grain of the table, swallowing disappointment with the reality of what had appeared to be all his dreams coming true.

“Hiya!” a voice cut through. “I’m Patton, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Logan,” he replied, looking up once more.

“Nice to meet you Logan! I’ve never seen you in the castle before, are you new?”

“Yes, I just moved to the city.” Logan decided to not mention where he’d come from - better not give this noble any more reason to look down on him, no matter how strangely friendly he appeared to be. “I presume you’ve lived here for many years?”

“Since I was born! Not that I remember it exactly. Or really anything until I was three. Maybe I only moved here then? No but Dad says we’ve always been here so that’s probably right…”

Logan stared at the other young man as he happily chattered away. Was this what all nobles were like? The few who’d ridden through his hometown had barely made eye contact, let alone talked to commoners like normal people.

“Your Highness, maybe we better start the lesson?” Dr. Picani interjected with a smile.

Logan’s eyes grew huge in his face as he stared at the boy next to him. The guard had said it too - was this really the Prince of Solarya? Yes, Logan knew the Prince was named Patton, but it had become a very popular name in short order since the royal family chose it. The heir to the entire kingdom was grinning bashfully up at their shared tutor, practically still bouncing in his seat with anticipation.

The capital city was bizarre. But seeing the eager smiles on both his tutor’s and the prince’s faces, Logan realized he was probably going to have to get used to it.

As he neared his eighteenth birthday, Prince Patton was pulled into a small audience with his father and the vizier. Both men were stern.

“Prince Patton, why have you been neglecting your deportment classes?”

Patton winced - he’d hoped they wouldn’t notice. “Actually, Father, I have been using that time to learn more about my future kingdom and subjects-”

“You mean you’ve been spending excess time with your servants,” Duke Lyle cut in. Patton fell quiet, seeing his father’s frown deepen.

“Patton, you’re the crown prince; one day, you’ll be king. Our entire country’s fate will be in your hands. But the throne is only as strong as the respect our people have for it. If the prince himself doesn’t exercise proper decorum, doesn’t maintain the acceptable boundaries between liege and vassal, then no one will. Order will disintegrate, and every noble house in our realm will be affected. Now that you are coming of age, you must end these distractions, before another day passes.”

“But Father-”

“No buts, Prince Patton. My decision is final. If you cannot treat those who serve us in the proper manner, and insist on treating them as peers, I will be forced to dismiss them entirely.”

Patton felt tears brimming at the edge of his eyes. He was to lose his friends, then, no matter what he did. At the very least, he would not cost them their livelihoods.

“Very well, Father. I will do as you ask.”

Duke Lyle watched, eyes glittering in victory, as Patton left his father’s study and slowly trudged up the tower steps to his room.

Patton’s birthday arrived, and he was officially presented to the realm as the now-adult heir, no longer just the son of the king but now the official Crown Prince and king-to-be. He performed his role in the pageantry well, smiling and appearing solemn in the appropriate moments. He greeted dignitaries who brought well-wishes, he listened to subjects’ petitions as they appealed to his father, and he did his best to follow the deliberations of his father’s council of advisors. But under his polite mask, he was miserable.

Without his friends, he was alone in a world filled with adults who expected him to carry himself with all the dignity of a royal, yet did not listen to a single suggestion he made. Without the ability to visit Logan in the library, or Virgil in the kitchens, Patton’s days started to blend into one another as he was sent from meeting to audience to meal to meeting.

He begged his father to at least let him visit the city. “I won’t forget my position, Your Majesty. But I wish to be visible to them, at least. Please?”

King Thomas weighed his son with his eyes, then relented. “You may, then. But you’ll need a guard with you at all times.”

Patton deflated the slightest bit. “I suppose that would be most proper, wouldn’t it. One of the castle guards, then?”

Duke Lyle piped up, “Your Majesty, now that the Prince is of age, he ought to have a personal contingent of guards, shouldn’t he?”

The king nodded. “Indeed. There are a number of promising knights who might perform the job quite well.”

Patton was able to even smile naturally at both men. Having to keep the common folk at arm’s length wasn’t ideal, but at least he’d be able to talk to them. And having a knight-guardian would mean he’d at least have companion, if not a friend.

“Your Royal Highness,” Duke Lyle spoke up. “It has come to my and His Majesty’s attention that your silver jubilee is approaching.”

“My what?”

“You turn 25 this year, son,” the king answered. “When I was your age, I had been married a year, and you, my first child, had been born. It is time we look into marriage for you.”

“Father, Duke Lyle, I hardly think such a thing is necessary, not when Father is in such good health-”

“This is not just for the purpose of heirs and lineage, your Highness,” the vizier said smoothly. “Through your marriage, we can make an alliance, or settle tensions with noble houses in our realm or our neighbors’.”

Patton twisted hands in his tunic, hoping neither man noticed. How could he bear to marry another, when Roman’s love was all he wanted or sought? But they’d never approve, or allow such a thing.

“For instance,” the duke continued, his tone one of careful detachment, “the great house of Sanders has a son about your age. His parents are actively searching for an eligible match for him. And of course, they would never want to match him with someone entirely outside his preferences, just as we never would for you, Prince.”

“There are also some younger sons in neighboring kingdoms who could potentially make for a good alliance, but securing the support of House Sanders would be my preference,” the king added.

“I, uh, I thank you, your Majesty, your Grace. May I be excused to think on these options?”

“Of course, son. We will resume at another time.”

Patton walked outside quickly. Pushing through the door into the hall, he came face-to-face with Roman, who was smiling at him with that same gorgeous light in his eyes that always set the butterflies in his stomach a-flutter. But now the butterflies were sluggish and frail, disintegrating into a nauseating goo.

“Roman, can you come to my room? We need to talk,” Patton said. His normal smile quivered as he looked around the hall for observers.

“Of course, dearheart,” Roman said warmly, leading the way. He was so graceful in all his movements that Patton’s heart burned just to watch him walk away.

“Roman, my rose, it’s my father, and the vizier. They… want me to marry. A political marriage. One who just so happens to be Duke Lyle’s nephew. The young Baron Remington of House Sanders.”

Roman stiffened, then smiled sadly. “We knew it would come to this, did we not? We dared to love, knowing the impropriety of it, but we dared all the same. Sunshine, I would never interfere with your duty. I will always guard you, with my heart and my life, but if you must needs marry this noble, I will not stand in the way.”

“You wouldn’t resent it?”

“Would I pine and sorrow for my misfortune?” Roman asked, kissing Patton’s hand softly, then holding it against his own cheek. “Of course I will. I’ll curse my ill luck in being born common, cry fie upon the stars for separating us by our lineage. But I could never resent you, dearheart. Nor can I regret having the chance to have known you and loved you these past six years, not when I treasure each adoring glance and each kiss as dearly as I treasure my life. I only ask that you allow me to remain your vassal and guard, to hold you safe when I cannot hold you close.” Patton melted, hearing Roman’s rich, caramel-sweet voice speak such tender words of devotion. He leaned in to kiss the knight’s affectionate words while they lingered on his lips, and in that moment made a decision.

“Roman, I am to be king, am I not?”

“You’re already the king of my affections, but yes, you will be king of Solarya too, in time.”

“And the king’s rule of Solarya is absolute.”

“As it has been since the Sun herself named the first monarch, yes.”

Patton nodded. “If I’m to be the absolute ruler in the future, I can’t let anyone push me around with edicts that go against my heart and conscience.”

Roman caressed his prince’s cheek with a quizzical expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I won’t be coerced into marrying for politics when it necessitates a revolt against my affections. I will refuse to marry Baron Sanders.”

Roman felt his heart galloping in his chest as he met Patton’s shining, determined eyes.

“Patton, do you mean…?”

“Yes, my dear knight. Please, if you’ll have me…” He sank to one knee in front of Roman, keeping their hands clasped. “Sir Roman, will you marry me?”

Roman felt tears leaking out the edge of his eyes as he smiled so wide that his cheeks started to ache. “I will follow you to the ends of the earth, Prince Patton. I have been and always will be yours. Yes, I will marry you, dearest sweet.”

Patton found he was tearing up as well Roman pulled him up to stand with him. Brushing his cheek with light fingers, Patton kissed his now-fiancé thoroughly. As the kiss suddenly turned salty from spilled tears, both men started to giggle. Roman felt his breath catch in his chest, watching the afternoon sun catch Patton’s curls as he threw his head back to laugh. The knight pulled his prince back to him, tasting the sound of laughter on his love’s lips.

“Father. I am not going to marry the Baron. I will be marrying my guard, Sir Roman.” The king stared in shock as his son continued, doors still hanging open from him barging into the king’s private study. “I will be also inviting my old friends from within the castle to our wedding. You may rule as you wish while you continue on the throne, but my reign will not be so divided between classes.”

The vizier, in his customary place by the king’s side, found his voice. “Your Highness, this is all highly-”

“‘Highly improper’? Yes, your Grace, I’m sure it is. And I plan to do it all the same.”

“Your Majesty, you must intercede-”

King Thomas turned to face his chief advisor. “Lyle, you know I value your judgment and advice, but it’s true. Patton will determine his own ruling style. I won’t undermine it, through marriage or otherwise.”

The duke tried once more. “Perhaps, then, a small, private ceremony within the castle?”

“No, your Grace. I am not ashamed of my fiancé nor his status. It will be a full state wedding.”

And it was.

The day dawned bright and sparkling. Keepers of the royal dovecote prepared the white feathery creatures for the grand finale. Footmen laid yards and yards of carpet along the aisle and lined up the benches and chairs of the interior ceremony, while even more footmen and maids displayed bouquets down and out of the public audience doors where the rest of the crowd would watch.

In the office that had been taken over as the central location for the wedding planning, Patton knelt to be on eye level with his floral consultant. “Is everything in order?”

“Yup!” Val responded with a grin the displayed a missing front tooth.

“Even the crowns?”

“You don’t get to see them yet!” she responded, sticking out her tongue. “No peeking!”

Patton grinned and kissed her hand. “I’ll leave them in your capable hands then!” Standing, he exchanged a quick hug and kiss on the cheek with Teresa. He’d commissioned them to arrange every single flower for their celebration, with the full power of the royal treasury behind them. Looking around this room, still filled to bursting with lovely blooms and wreathed in a rich bouquet of scents, he knew he’d made the right choice.

He left and went through the kitchens.

There was Virgil, head pastry chef, forehead creased in concentration as he directed the last details of the grand wedding cake, as a helper delicately placed a sugar-spun rose on the top. The chef turned and caught the eye of the prince with a shy grin. Patton mirrored it and flung himself forward to hug the man.

“Thank you for forgiving me, Virgil.”

“Hey, it was royal duty and all that, right? Knowing you wanted us back, and to be part of your wedding - how could I say no? Even if it is to that lunkhead of a knight.”

“Excuse you!” Roman said, entering with an offended gasp.

Virgil smirked and hugged Roman as well. “Oh good, I didn’t want to talk about you behind your back. Always better to call you a simpleton to your face.”

Roman grinned. “I’d expect nothing more from my favorite marzi-pain. You’re going to be free for the ceremony, right?” He slipped his hand into Patton’s, still getting a tingle of excitement from being so open in front of others.

“Yes, I’m just finishing up here. Is L-, uh, is Logan getting pulled away from his books too?”

“We twisted his arm, or rather, Patton asked very kindly and possibly offered to increase the library budget. So yes.”

“Why, is there a reason you’d perhaps like our resident scholar to be present?” Patton asked in his blandest-possible court voice.

Virgil ducked his head in response and said nothing, but Roman and Patton made eye contact as they both noticed the tiny smile playing across their friend’s lips.

A servant popped his head through the kitchen door. “Your Highness! And Knight-Captain! Thank goodness. We’re getting close to the ceremony, we need to get you both ready!”

The fiancés squeezed their linked hands once more before following the servant out, waving to Virgil as they left.

Royal fanfare sounded as a string quartet began to play processional music. King Thomas stood at the altar as  Duke Lyle attempted to conceal his glower in his place at the king’s elbow. They looked with the rest of the audience as people from the city, the guard, and the castle turned in their seats. Two aisles curved on either side of the seating area.

As gentle tones played, young women strode down the carpeted aisles, sprinkling flower petals. One wore light pink and purple under a blonde updo, and the other in blue and white under a matching hairdo in light brunette. Patton and Roman emerged in their wake from separate entrances. Virgil and Logan, in matching slate-grey suits, accompanied each fiancé as they paced deliberately down the aisle. Roman wore a custom dress uniform, a beautiful work in red and white, accented with gold filigree. The seal of the ancient House of Solarya had been reworked into his own flattering colors. His auburn hair was perfectly curled and shone in the sunlight. But it was nothing compared to the blaze of his smile as he neared his beloved Prince.

Patton gripped Virgil’s elbow tight as he strove to keep his steps in time with the music. The prince had kept the pomp of his station for the ceremony itself, but when it came to his own person, his modesty shone through. He did not wear the silken doublet and hose of the royal family, nor the yards-long cloak. He had chosen to leave off even a modest tiara or circlet to show his rank. Instead, he dressed in the finery of his citizens: tailored long jacket and long pants in his signature light blue. In his lapel, a rose as red as cherries in summer was affixed proudly, mirroring the lovely sprig of hydrangea pinned to Roman’s sash.

At last, both journeys down the aisle were complete, as Roman and Patton came face-to-face at the aisle. Taking his hands, Patton smiled so wide his face was practically split in two. The musicians finished on a last sweet note as King Thomas stood forward to officiate.

“Ladies, lords, nonbinary nobility, and all our treasured friends of Solarya,” he spoke, his strong voice projecting out the open public doors to the waiting public beyond. “Thank you, one and all, for joining us on a day of such bliss for our family. Our son and heir, Prince Patton, means today to wed Sir Roman, Knight-Captain of the Castle Guard. We are beyond proud of our son, and bless this union wholeheartedly. They have prepared their own vows.” The king stepped back, bowing their head. Virgil, far too close to the current head of the nation for his comfort, was startled to spot the king wiping away a single happy tear that coursed down the royal cheek.

“Dearest Patton,” Roman began, clearing his throat. “Whether near or far, I am always yours. I was content to be your guardian from all the world. Now, I pledge to be your champion, protecting your person, your throne, and your heart. I will tell you each morning those qualities of yours that I’ve fallen in love with, and I will never run dry as I fall in love more each day. From now until forever, dear sweet. I love you.”

Logan watched his childhood friend glowing with adoration and found his normal distaste with sentiment had entirely vanished. Or perhaps it had curled up in his throat and was the reason he now felt almost close to tears. He surreptitiously sneaked a glance as his fellow groomsman and saw Virgil’s shining eyes grow soft in his face as he watched the gentle kiss Roman planted on his beloved’s hand.

Patton carefully wiped an eye underneath his glasses and took his turn to speak. “My precious Roman. I feel as if I have loved you for a thousand years, and yet I know I will love you for at least a thousand more. Glorious knight, your courage takes my breath away, and your ideals alight a fire in my mind and heart. I pledge to never again be your liege, but your partner, equal in every sense. You will be no royal consort, but my king as I will be yours. From now until forever: I love you.”

At the prince’s pronouncement, Virgil watched Roman’s eyes widen. He risked a look behind to see a similar level of shock in the king’s eyes, and something that looked like speechless indignation in the Duke’s. It seemed Patton hadn’t told any besides his best men of his plan to elevate Roman to full royal status, including his husband-to-be.

But Roman recovered as Patton elegantly bowed to kiss his hand in return, and Teresa, glorious in a coppery gown, stepped forward with a mahogany box. Virgil and Logan walked to meet her as she flipped open the top, revealing two flower crowns nestled in a velvet bed. Tiny red roses and individual blue hydrangea flowerheads created two circlets as the best men removed them and set them upon the grooms’ heads. Long silken ribbons in gold connected the two crowns to each other, allowing room for Roman and Patton to turned to face the crowd. As the audience caught sight, there was a gasp followed by a roar of approval and joy. The binding crowns, as they were called, were part of the age-old Solaryan commoner marriage ceremony. Only the most progressive or least-connected noble houses had adopted the tradition that almost every other citizen of the country practiced. But now the citizens of Solarya watched as their crown prince stood with his husband in the finery they themselves had worn on their wedding days. And the delicate crowns sat where soon would lie the two crowns of their future kings.

King Thomas was barely able to speak through his delighted tears, but managed to squeak out: “Husband and husband!”

Roman took the opportunity to dip his love deep and kiss the prince in full view of the entire kingdom as white doves took flight and celebratory bells began to peal, bright and loud. They’d done it, in spite of all. They’d defied, class, norms, and propriety to declare and affirm their love to all who cared to see. A new age of Solarya dawned on the horizon, as bright as their patron Sun and just as warm.

[silver-wields-a-pen]

Illthdar High: An au fan fiction

Friday 

Zercey’s cheerleading uniform was clean and pressed to perfection, her ponytail was extra high and fluffy and her sneakers where stark white. She looked perfect. Pep rallies were the most important event of a high school cheerleader’s life and everything would go well or else. She’d already reminded her squad that anyone who messed up would warm the bleachers for the rest of the year. Failure in any form would not be tolerated, not today. “He was really sweet when he asked me, he brought me roses and everything,” Zercey declared, talking loud enough so that everyone in the immediate area, including Lerki, could hear her. The cheerleaders and athletes from the various sports teams were in the gym, running through some last-minute details for the upcoming pep rally. She focused on her task, but if she could make Lerki jealous while pulling off the greatest cheer routine in Illthdar High history then why not?

“Are… are you going to go with him?” Anna asked cautiously, eyeing Lerki over Zercey’s shoulder. “I think Lerki can hear you,” she added in a whisper, not realizing that Lerki hearing her was the entire point.

“I might!” Zercey chirped. “James is a doll, and he’s hot too. He’d be a fun date. I might even let him take me back to hi….”

“I thought we were going to the dance together?” Lerki’s angry voice cut into the conversation and Zercey carefully didn’t smirk. 

Hook, line and sinker. “Are we?” She turned around pretending shock at the news. “I didn’t know, since you didn’t bother to ask me or anything.”

“I didn’t think I had to ask my girlfriend to go to the dance with me,” Lerki all but growled, annoyed with her attitude.

“You thought wrong,” Zercey informed him, turning on her heel quick enough to send her ponytail smacking right into his face. She left him standing there, stewing in his anger and being snickered at by his meathead friends.

~*~*~

Loud cheers from the rally filtered through the empty hallways and Rhoe rolled her eyes as she heard the cheerleaders start their stupid routine. She never understood the point of cheerleaders, they didn’t really do anything except walk around in miniskirts and blow the football team when they needed it. It was a waste of time and school money in her opinion, but then she also believed that school in general was a waste of time and money.

“How long does this take?”

Rhoe made an annoyed sound as Salem’s voice rang out from behind her, urging her to pick the lock on the school council’s door faster, as if she was going slow to spite him. “Shut your trap vampire boy. Remember that I’m doing this for free and if you don’t want me to turn your ass in then you better stop annoying me.” Picking the locks on the school was a delicate process, and it took time and the more he whined about it, the more frustrated she would get and the more time it would take. “Cowan, next time Sparkler opens his mouth to speak, punch him.”

The threat and Cowan’s evil smirk made Salem shut his mouth and Rhoe, finally able to work in peace, got the door unlocked for them.

The student council office was more like a closet with a few desks shoved inside. There were boxes of old decorations stacked in one corner and the entire room smelled like must and Febreze. How Imogen worked in this dump was beyond any of them. It looked like a room Miss. Trunchbull would lock students in for punishment.

“What’s gonna happen if Imogen is the one to tally the votes?” Salem asked as Rhoe zoned in on the massive box used to gather the votes for the homecoming court.

“My sister? Do grunt work like counting? HAHAHA no.”

Imogen was a president mostly in title, she had minions to do the technical stuff for her and Rhoe had no concerns about their plot being foiled by the ‘perfect’ child.

They upturned the overly decorated and sparkly box onto the floor and sorted through the countless pieces of paper as quickly as possible. Dozens of new votes for Seth and Scyanatha got removed and replaced for the other participants, all courtesy of Khrome. The boys had spent a good portion of their night writing the new votes and while the hand cramps probably wouldn’t help them in their performance later, it would be worth it to see Seth and Scy’s face when they realized they lost.

“Who did you guys decide for the winner?” Cowan asked, stuffing all the Scyeth votes into his bag to dispose of when they left the school as throwing them away anywhere inside the building was too risky.

“Xyl picked Nina and Richard,” Salem explained. “Those two have been together since elementary school and they’re liked enough for it to be believable they'd win.” He didn’t know the couple himself and it didn’t matter as long as Seth and Scy didn’t win then all was well.

“How about you shut your mouths and sort through these papers faster?” Rhoe snapped at them, shutting them both up instantly. “We have a limited time here so less chatter and more sorting.”

~*~*~

Wearing Illthdar High's turquoise and purple, Imogen was on her feet, whistling and clapping with the rest of the school. The cheer squad’s latest routine had just finished with a bang. Literally. They tossed Zercey toward the ceiling and kicked out with her arms and legs just as the song’s apex, an explosion sound effect, rang out. The things her petite friend could do were impressive, even to someone as physically adverse as she was.  

Zercey and the rest of the cheerleaders smiled and waved as they picked up their pom-poms from the floor and headed towards the left wing of the gym. Now that the special homecoming cheer was out of the way, Principal Chiyoko made her way to the microphone in the middle of the court.

“What an––” Ms. Chiyoko’s face was too close to the mic, and the piercing shrill of feedback rang out. “An exciting performance,” she finished squeakily, hastily moving back and giving a small, apologetic smile. “Really wonderful. Homecoming is such a fantastic time of year. A time for new beginnings and electrifying victories...”

Imogen rolled her eyes as the older woman continued. ‘Chiyoko’ was right: everything about the woman said she'd choke in any situation. She wished the principal would just get on with it already before she killed the energy in the room and let everyone’s minds wander. 

Thinking along the same lines, Principal Chiyoko continued, “And now to keep this party going,” she gave a quick chuckle, “your student body president, Imogen Kallder.”

Imogen walked towards the mic with a confidence she didn’t feel. She hated public speaking, but knew if anyone would take her seriously down the line as a career woman, she’d have to get over that. “Good afternoon Illthdar High!” She had been practicing with her note cards all last night and now knew every beat, every gesture, in her speech. She managed to get through it flawlessly. That is, until the very end when she caught her sister and her friend sneaking into the gym. She wasn’t surprised that Rhoe or Cowan came in late – the fact that they bothered to show up at all was almost a compliment – but trailing a couple feet behind them and acting shifty was Salem. “Our, er...” Imogen stumbled, momentarily distracted by the sight of her not-boyfriend hanging out with her obnoxious sister and her tag-along. Shit. Pull yourself together. She hastily slapped a smile on her face. “Our football team has had a fantastic season so far, with five wins and no losses. Give it up for the Fighting Veikos, and their captain, Lerki Birch!” Imogen led the room in applause as Lerki and his team lumbered onto the middle of the court, each player looking cockier than the one before him. “Tomorrow’s game will be against the Midraert Wanderers at two pm,” Imogen continued, “followed by the homecoming dance tomorrow night from seven till midnight, where the Homecoming King and Queen will be crowned. And now, Mr. Bracken will introduce the extracurricular clubs.” 

Imogen waited until Mr. Bracken came up to the microphone before heading to take a seat in the bleachers, finding an empty spot next to Miu in the second row. The last part of her speech had been rushed, but she was more focused on the late arrivals than she was on the rest of the pep rally. What were those three up to? Both of her siblings had been acting weirder than usual since she caught them and their friends all together in her living room last night. She narrowed her eyes and craned her neck, searching the crowd for her brother’s lanky form or his friend’s artificially blue hair since those two were the easiest to spot.

Towards the back of the room and in the corner, another person had noted Salem’s late entrance. Vyxen frowned from where she sat between Raemina and Nyima. She knew her brother well enough to realize when he was up to something and he was definitely up to something. If it involved Rhoe and Cowan, then nothing good could come of it. Unfortunately, it was unlikely that she’d have time to talk to him again until tomorrow night and so she just hoped that whatever tomfoolery he had planned would not take place at the Talent Show or the dance. She would see Date and maybe he knew about it. Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for an all-black, bored looking figure. She found him across the gymnasium and jumped when she realized he was looking right at her. He grinned when he caught her eye, licking his lips and winking. It was enough to short circuit Vyxen’s brain and momentarily make her forget that her brother was being a sketchy weirdo. Oh well, it couldn’t be that bad anyways.

~*~*~

Scyanatha waited at the judging table inspecting her perfectly manicured fingernails. She sat beside the stage along with Zercey and a surly senior named Flynn. Why in the world anyone thought a social nobody like him was fit for a job as important as this was beyond her. Unfortunately, that giant dork Mr. Culvers and the sputtering Mr. Uwe were also judges, so Scy didn’t have the highest hopes for the outcome. If the way the talent show participants dressed were any sign, they were all losers, and she was wasting her time. 

First onto the stage was Miu, the resident emcee. Beyond Scyanatha’s comprehension, they usually picked Miu as the hype-man for things like this and everybody seemed to love it. These peasants really have the worst taste, she thought arrogantly, as she took in the other girl’s shiny black hair and smooth dark skin.

After Miu blathered on more, the first act was up: two girls from the Sketch Comedy Club, walked onto the stage with a box of props. After several minutes of mind-numbing ‘jokes’ about the different groups and cliques at the high school, they exited to polite applause. 

Scyanatha looked down at her score sheet in front of her, and then glanced over to Zercey, who asked, “So what did you think?”

She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. “Tacky,” she responded before jotting down the number 4 next to the girls’ names. Zercey nodded in agreement, but gave them a 5.

She looked up as the next person took the stage: an orange-haired girl Miu introduced as ‘Avari.’ Wearing a flower crown and long, lacy vest. She walked up to the mic and recited a poem she wrote. “He wrapped his love around me/ Like a bow/ As if/ I was a Christmas gift...”

Scy nearly choked.

In the audience, Jingyi sat beside Nyima and grimaced every time he noticed Scyanatha roll her eyes. He didn’t think some acts were great, but he had to give them credit for getting up on stage and doing their thing. He couldn’t imagine performing in front of people, he thought they deserved credit for their bravery. Scy would give them terrible scores just because she could and that wasn’t fair. Who on earth invited her to be a judge, anyway? He caught sight of long red hair out of the corner of his eyes and sighed. It would be Imogen. It sucked when the person who should have the most concern about student activities and wellbeing was friends with the worst person in the entire school. Jingyi just tried not to pay attention to her, he shifted, so he stood a little closer to Nyima and was debating reaching out to hold her hand when the next act was introduced. Nina and Richard came out, dressed in matching outfits, and performed a song they had written together. It was a love song, one they sang while staring at each other and Jingyi could hear every girl in the immediate area sigh happily, as though they were watching their favorite romance movie. His eyes turned to Nyima again, she had one of her hands on her chest and she was watching the performance with a dreamy look on her face. He wondered briefly if he should take up singing and then abandoned that idea just as fast, remembering he sounded like a dying seagull whenever he tried to sing. He doubted he’d get the same dreamy look from her that Nina was. If anything he’d probably send her running for the hills the moment he started his squawking. Nyima looked pretty with that faraway smile on her face though and so he bundled his courage, took a breath and grabbed her hand. He didn’t release it until he felt her fingers curl around his own. Her hand was warm and soft and being able to hold it made him feel like he was on top of the world. He probably had a dorky, faraway look on his face now too but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Nyima and how awesome it felt to be beside her.

The illusion broke when Nina and Richard exited the stage to monumental applause and Seth came out. Scy jumped from her seat to clap for him and then she sat back down and stared at him as if he was a king while he belted out the worst rap lyrics Jingyi ever heard. He'd never been into rap music, but he was sure it should sound a little better than this. Most of the lyrics revolved around how hot and rich he was, some people were bouncing to his inexistent rhythm but Jingyi figured that was mostly to stay on his good side and not because they actually enjoyed his spitting. It was a relief when his ‘performance’ was done, ending with him walking off stage and Scyanatha loudly declaring that he was the best act of the night so far and sketching down what was likely a perfect score. Zercey looked less convince beside her. Her smile a little strained at the idea of complementing Seth’s horrendous rapping, but she gave him a high score. She didn’t really have a choice when Scy was looking over her shoulder to make sure of it.

~*~*~

The backstage area was a mess, people were running every which way as they collected their things and headed out to take their seats. Date had ensured that Khrome would be the second to last ones to take the stage, the visiting middle schoolers being the final act of the day, since  it would give them a little extra time to rock out and their music would be the last thing in everyone’s memories as they went home. Hopefully it would stick with them and they’d start selling some CDs and merchandise.

They were all dressed in black, with thick liner around their eyes and body glitter to make them stand out on stage. Salem had all but forced the glitter on them and he was doubtlessly the one wearing the most. Together, they looked like the poster children for Hot Topic and that was exactly the look they were aiming for. They did each try to customize themselves in small ways though. Date had feathery black wings attached to his back, Rhovan was wearing a neon blue belt and several neon bracelets, Salem had in contacts that made his eyes look red and his signature fake fangs were in place and Xyl had painted designs on his guitar with glow in the dark nail polish to give it a little ‘oomph’. They looked ridiculous, but the crowd ate it up. The cheer was resounded as they walked on stage. They had a small group of followers in the high school and everyone else was so drunk from the liquor they snuck in they would cheer on a deranged looking clown. Regardless of their reasoning, the cheering and the energy was infectious and it just got louder and more energized when the band started to play. Despite the fact that they looked crazy in their get-ups, Khrome wasn’t actually all that bad. Xyl, Rhovan and Salem all knew how to play their instruments well and Date had a really nice voice. The lyrics could use work though, since most of it sounded like the poetry of a sad, lonely Emo kid who was trying to be metal and ultimately failing.

Unbeknownst to Salem, Date had changed a line slightly to call out to his ‘moon haired muse,’ his dark eyes finding her in the crowd so he could ‘bore into her soul’ as he sang it. At least he imagined he was boring into her soul, in reality he looked constipated. It had Vyxen blushing all over though, so it served its purpose.

Salem tried not to swing his bass around and smack Date in the face, but it was a hard urge to resist. He specifically warned him NOT to sing about his sister in a creepy way and Date did it, anyway. What a jackass. The only thing he could do is to press on and hope no one noticed who the song was referencing. He strummed on his blood-red bass and walked forward to the edge of the stage. A few Khrome fangirls screamed and reached out their hands to touch him. One of them calling out that he was better than Edward Cullen and he flashed her a grin with his plastic fangs. He felt like an undead rock lord and it was amazing.

Xyl was throwing his head back and forth as he played, his curls bouncing around in a way that was more adorable than it was hardcore, but he was trying. Somewhere in the crowd, Rhoe and Imogen both rolled their eyes at him and hoped that no one would remember they were related. Cowan smiled though, thinking Xyl was kind of cute with his ‘rocker’ get-up and wondering how pissed Rhoe would be if he made moves on her brother.

Rhovan was in the background beating on his drums with his glittery sticks. He didn’t know how, when or why Salem had bought him glittering drum sticks but he knew better than to argue with the idiot. At least it made him slightly more visible, he tried to find Rae in the crowd but he couldn’t see through the masses. He hoped she was watching him and even if he knew it wouldn’t happen, he would have loved to see some lacy underwear thrown his way from the crowd. Maybe the exact set she was wearing when he saw her dancing the other day. The thought warmed him and had him smiling stupidly and hitting his drums harder, he would definitely find her after the show, maybe if he was lucky he’d get to see what panties she was wearing today.  

As the final chord from Xyl’s guitar slowly faded out, Date spoke into the microphone again. “Good evening, everyone. We’re Khrome.” He paused for a moment, trying to look cool and intimidating. He wore wings to take up more space on stage. Since he still hadn’t gotten his growth spurt, he needed all the help he could get, especially standing next to Xyl who was as tall and co-ordinated as those balloon people used for advertisements outside car dealerships. “That song was called ‘Carve Out My Jasper Heart,’ and is available on our new EP, which you can get from one of us after the show. This next song is ‘A Masked Man Hidden in the Shadows.’” He looked back at Rhovan and nodded.

Rhovan nodded back and banged his sticks together. “One, two, three, four!”

~*~*~

Raemina, Vyxen and Nyima were reserved through most of the talent show but when Khrome took the stage they let loose entirely. The audience became a mosh pit of people jumping up and down and screaming their heads off and so the nerdettes were free to do the same without risking being picked out or ridiculed for it. They could count the three of them as Khrome fan girls and not just because two of them were sorta-kinda dating members of the band.

Poor Jingyi knew nothing of Khrome but tried to act excited anyway just so he could stay beside Nyima as she danced on her tiptoes and screamed ‘WHOOO’ as loud as she dared. She was super cute, which made it easier for him to stomach the weird Emo lyrics washing over him.

Vyxen was entranced, her eyes were on Date and all she recalled thinking in that moment was that he looked like a beautiful dark angel and his eyes were right on her. She’d never felt sexy in her life but she did right then, she jumped extra high and scream as loud as she could, hoping to keep those slate grey eyes on her and only her.

Date sent a wicked grin in her direction, causing her stomach to twist into knots and her body to grow hot. He could ask her to do anything in that moment and she’d do it happily. By the widening grin on his face, he knew this information and would probably use it to his advantage at the dance tomorrow. 

Raemina normally would have noticed Vyxen mentally throwing herself at Date while he stripped her down with his eyes, but she was otherwise occupied with how the colorful stage lights made Rhovan look like he was glowing. She wasn’t entranced like her poor friend, but she thought he looked awfully attractive as he played the drums. It was quite a feat to be that attractive while holding glittery drum sticks, but he pulled it off. Rhovan looked good when he let loose. If there was a way to push through the crowd to make it to the front, she would have. She saw his eyes scan the crowd now and then and she hoped he was looking for her; he said he would when he dropped her off yesterday. He wouldn’t be able to see her in this mess though, she probably shouldn’t have worn dark colors today because it made her blend in too well. Tossing all her usual reservations aside, she joined Vyxen in jumping as high as she could and screaming loudly. She screamed his name, something she would be mortified by later, but it drew his eyes in her direction. He smiled at her and she knew she was doomed, he looked adorable and very much like the wiggly puppy she’d seen him with at the pet store.

“THEY’RE REALLY GOOD,” Jingyi shouted at Nyima, not so subtly reminding her he was beside her. They had released hands a few minutes ago, which was probably for the best since his palms were sweating, but he was starting to over-think things. What if she let go of his hand because she didn’t like him? She probably thought his clammy hands were gross and was just too nice to say anything.

“WHAT,” Nyima yelled back, drawing her attention away from the boy band before her.

“THEY’RE. GOOD,” he repeated.

She pulled her hair back and pointed to her ear. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU.” 

Jingyi mentally kicked himself. Of course she couldn’t hear him. God, he was such an idiot. He was about to shrug it off when a sudden bout of inspiration hit him. “I THINK YOU’RE––” Khrome’s song ended suddenly, “––BEAUTIFUL.” The final word echoed around them, and a few people nearby turned to stare while Nyima's eyes grew round and she blushed.  

~*~*~

“Coming in second...  Khrome!” Mr. Culvers announced from the stage. 

The four boys shuffled their feet, but nonetheless walked forward to stand by Kyle, whose parkour demonstration had placed him in third. 

“And the winner of tonight’s talent show and a $50 gift card to Kess’s Restaurant & Pizzeria... Seth Idle!” 

Rhovan growled as Seth came up, one hand waving in the air and a cocky grin on his face as if he were about to start signing autographs. After he took the card from Mr. Culvers’s hand he blew a kiss to Scyanatha, who was jumping up and down in excitement.

Imogen, Lerki, and Laura caught up to Scy and Zercey by the judge’s table and waited as Seth and the other participants got their pictures taken for the school newspaper. Now that her boyfriend had won, Scyanatha was in a much better mood. “He’s so talented,” she said dreamily, still staring at the boy on stage and marveling at the way the light glistened off his dark brown skin. 

Zercey and Imogen shared a knowing glance, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. Anyone with half a brain knew Seth couldn’t rap to save his life, but they also understood that not giving him what he wanted rarely ended up well for anyone else. 

“Yeah, he is!” Laura chirped in, smiling enthusiastically at the queen bee. 

“He didn’t have much competition,” added Imogen. She wasn’t completely lying. There were some downright cringe-worthy performances tonight, though most had been decent. One boy in particular had made her stomach flutter anxiously. Something about seeing Salem in his glitter and makeup, sweating as he strummed his bass had been so hot. What is wrong with you!? she yelled internally. This wasn’t the best place for her to be waging a war against her hormones, Imogen could see Zercey watching her from the corner of her eye. Seeming to put two and two together, she swept her eyes across the boys on the stage, trying to determine which one was causing Imogen to act so jittery. Absolutely none of the guys on stage were a good choice for her to have as a crush and she started to panic. It was unlikely that Zercey would pick out Salem from the rest, but she couldn’t risk it.

“The middle schoolers did a pretty good job closing the show.” Imogen blurted in a blind panic. The younger kids had put on a cute little show that wasn’t amazing, but it also wasn’t horrible.

Zercey smirked, but Laura seemed to perk up at the mention and nodded her head eagerly. “They were so cute! You know, my little brot….”

“Ugh, are you kidding me?” Scyanatha cut Laura off, disgusted. “The middle schoolers were awful. They couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket and did you see that dancing? They all looked like they were having seizures. It was ridiculous, especially that weird kid in the back. He looked like he had no idea what was going on around him, they shouldn’t let kids like him out in public.”

Imogen barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes, too used to Scyanatha’s biting remarks to be offended. In the process, her gaze landed on Laura who looked as though she had just been slapped in the face. She’d never seen her look anything less than infatuated with everything Scyanatha said so the wide-eyed shock and hurt she was displaying was interesting.

“He… he’s just shy. He’s working on it,” Laura mumbled and Imogen immediately figured out that the boy Scyanatha was picking on was her little brother.

Zercey also seemed to have caught on and opened her mouth to say something, but Scy wasn’t having it. “Working on it?” she scoffed. “Please. This is the problem with giving out participation trophies all the time. Losers think they have a chance at being something better.”

Just then, Seth walked up. Without hesitating, Scy turned her back on Laura and focused all of her attention instead on showering her boyfriend with affection.

Tears forming in her eyes, Laura retreated towards the stage where her brother and his friends were being congratulated by the third judge.

“Is she okay?” Lerki asked. For once his brow furrowed in concern and not confusion.

Imogen watched as Laura gathered up her brother into a big hug and sighed, “I don’t think so.”

~*~*~

“Here you go,” Date said, lifting the last of the drum kit and passing it to Rhovan, who was hunched inside the back of his parents’ minivan. 

Gingerly laying down the snare, he replied, “Thanks,” before hopping out of the car and closing the trunk behind him. The pair walked over to Salem and Xyl, who had just finished loading their guitars and amps into Salem’s car. 

“This is such bull--” Salem burst when the four of the reunited beside his car, an exact copy of the one Edward Cullen drove in the Twilight movies. “Seth only won because Scyanatha and her stupid friends gave him a high score.”

“No snap,” was Rhovan’s reply. “There’s no use whining about it though. We’ll get those two back tomorrow.”  

“No snap?” Date asked, amused. 

“I’m trying to cut back on cussing, ok? Bite me.”

“We will get them back, make no mistake about that,” Salem growled, returning the conversation to his bitterness over losing against someone who wouldn’t know good rap lyrics if they bit him on the face.

“Hey Salem, you wanna hang out at my house tonight? I got a new game and I need some help figuring it out.” Xyl attempted to change the subject, figuring that if Salem came with, then he’d have the whole night to sort out his temper and keep him from doing anything especially stupid tomorrow.

“Sure, my house will be boring tonight anyway since my parents are gone and Vyxen is staying with Raemina.” A happy noise came from somewhere to the side at that moment and Salem rolled his eyes. “Speak of the devil.”

The nerdettes came out of the school at that moment and Vyxen let out a weird, happy sound and rushed to give her brother a hug which he returned with only slight exasperation. “You guys did so great!” she claimed, pulling back and smiling shyly when Date opened his arms to get a hug next. She felt her heart race in both excitement and nervousness as she moved closer and felt his arms wrap tightly around her. He smelled like something dark and dangerous and wonderful and she loved it.

It was a shame it didn’t last. Salem all but yanked them apart and put himself between them to prevent any more hugs from happening. “Do you three have a ride?” He ignored the way Date scoffed beside him.

“Yeah, I’m driving them home,” Rhovan supplied, happy to spend time with Rae even if they had two tag-alongs.

“You guys were awesome, I really thought you would win,” Raemina was standing as close to Rhovan as she could while still allowing Nyima to use her as a human shield from the oh-so-scary boys in front of them. “You should have won,” she amended when she saw their moods darken. “We all know you would have if the judges were different, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Salem didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “You guys should get out of here before it gets too late.”  

Agreeing that it was time to get the girls home, Rhovan left with the three of them in tow. Date made to follow and head to his own car but Salem stopped him with an arm across his chest and didn’t remove it until Rhovan was down the road and around the corner.

“Now you can go,” Salem remarked, opening his car door and sliding into the driver’s seat.

“What did you think I was going to kidnap your sister if I left at the same time they did?” Date knew the only reason he was detained was because Salem wanted to make sure he didn’t try to give Vyxen a ride. It was a fair call though, since that was exactly what he had intended to do.

“You can never be too sure,” Salem would sooner die than let Date give Vyxen a ride in or on anything.

Xyl just sighed. Before he could open the passenger side door of Salem’s car, Imogen walked out into the parking lot. She scowled when she caught sight of him. 

“I thought Nayidh was coming to pick us up? Wait, where is Rhoe?” she all but demanded.

Her brother shrugged. “I think Cowan was giving her a ride back, I haven’t seen them since we went on stage. And I haven’t texted her, she probably went to bed.”

“Figures.” She knew she should have taken Zercey up on her offer to get a lift home, this was what she got for trusting her brother would actually remember to do something right for once.

Salem, perking up at the sound of Imogen’s voice, stepped back out from behind the steering wheel. Imogen stilled, not having realized it was his car Xyl had been about to get into. “I’m actually headed over to your place if you need a ride,” he said.

Date smirked. He had been about to head to his own car, but this was too good of a moment to pass up. 

“Uh, sure. I guess.” She walked towards the car and Salem hurried to open the door for her. Flustered, Imogen muttered a “Thanks,” before settling in. His hand brushed hers for a fraction of a second and she looked up to see him smiling at her. 

Xyl missed the tense exchange between his sister and his friend as he said his goodbye to Date. Watching Salem gingerly close the door behind her, Date chuckled. “Have fun tonight, Xyl,” he said as he walked away, feathers blowing gently in the breeze.

~*~*~

Scyanatha and Seth vanished soon after the pictures and interviews for the school newspaper were finished -- no doubt to celebrate his win in the most obscene way they could think of -- and with Imogen getting a ride back with her aunt that left Zercey on her own with Lerki. 

“You can’t ignore me forever,” Lerki’s voice sounded from behind Zercey as she stalked across the parking lot towards her car, very intent on doing just that. When she didn’t say anything he sighed and gently grabbed her arm, tightening his grip a bit when she tried to yank away. “Come on Zerce, give me a chance? I’m sorry I made you mad and I have a surprise for you to make up for it.”

Zercey stopped, she could feel her resolve cracking it the same way it always did when he apologized. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew he was worthless and that she should move on but dangit, he had a weird effect on her that she couldn’t seem to shake off.

Sensing his opportunity, Lerki moved closer and pressed himself against her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down to kiss her neck. “Please?” he begged again, only just resisting the urge to punch the air in victory when he heard her sigh in defeat.

“Fine!” she snapped, allowing him to pull her towards his car. “But your surprise better be amazing or I’m gonna punch you.” Zercey had intended the car ride to be tense, wanting to keep him on his toes and make him grovel for her forgiveness, but one of his hands touched her knee and moved upwards and she broke. He was good at what he did and he knew how to get her where he wanted her. It was annoying, but not annoying enough to keep her from enjoying herself. “Don’t stop,” she all but begged, grabbing his hand when he pulled it away.

“Nope!” Lerki pulled his hand away again and hopped out of the car before she could convince him to continue. Seth had paid good money for this surprise and he wasn’t going to waste it. They could always pick up where they left off afterwards.

Repressing a sigh, Zercey followed him out of the car and towards the boardwalk. Just before her feet hit the sand, he turned back to look at her. 

“Close your eyes,” Lerki said with a smile. He took her hand in his and led the way towards the water. 

The sound of the waves crashing into the shore and the feel of the smooth, cool sand beneath her toes added to Zercey’s anticipation. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see.” Finally, they came to a stop and she felt Lerki move beside her. “You can open your eyes now,” he breathed into her ear, sending a shudder down her spine. 

Zercey gasped. Before her sat over a dozen lanterns, each with pretty floral designs on them and laid out in the perfect shape of a heart. In the center, the words ‘will you go to the dance with me?’ were spelled out in red and pink rose petals and before Zercey even got to process that, something slightly heavy was fastened around her neck and she looked down to see Lerki’s class ring hanging from a pretty silver chain.

“I figured it was too big for you to wear normally,” he explained, wrapping his arms around her from behind, “but it still looks good on you and this way, everyone will know we’re together.” She’d been yelling at him to make their relationship official for months and he couldn’t think of anything more official than this.

Zercey turned around to look into Lerki’s indigo eyes and fixed him with the sultriest gaze she could. “Is that it, or does this surprise include something else?”

He brought his mouth to hers hungrily and then moved his lips down her jawline, then her neck and collarbone. She held his shirt tightly in her fists, pawing at his back as he did so. Zercey didn’t remember how long until they finally made it down to the sand or when they decided to do away with modesty altogether. 

Long after Lerki gave her a final kiss goodnight and she was behind her own steering wheel to drive home, she realized she had left her Victoria’s Secret bra back on the beach.

By @guardians-of-las-vyxen & @yogiwithabook

[the-gay-in-the-way]

Loneliness with a Purple Tiara

(I’ve been incapacitated for a bit so I’m feeling out of practice with writing, more so than usual.)

(So I decided to just have some fun and create a completely new AU to play with as a writing exercise.)

(It’s a superhero AU, cus I’ve been listening to Brandy(You’re a Fine Girl) and the Sing! version of I’m Still Standing and, for some reason, those two songs equate to superhero stories for me.)

(Not sure why, but it is what it is.)

(I’ve been discussing all the details of the universe on my discord server(which there is a link to in the Link Bed at the bottom of this post)with my good friend @let-me-be-an-individual-rachet who’s been greatly helping me out in figuring out how everyone’s powers work and suggesting some fun and interesting bits to add to the story at some point.)

(So, yeah, this is a superhero AU I just came up with on a whim.)

(Kind of like all of the other random AU’s I’ve come up with in the past.)

(Anyways, don’t be mad if this a little terrible or something cus, like I said, it’s been a while and I’m rusty.(fite me))

(Thanks for reading this, if you do, and I hope you enjoy the stupid banter.)

(((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))))))

Once, a long time ago, Virgil looked at the stars and asked himself a question.

“Would it be better if I was alone?”

Sometimes, he still asks himself that.

“Damnit, Anxiety! Stop swooping in front of me like that! I’m going to hit you!”

But then he remembers that he doesn’t really have a choice anymore.

“Hero names on the field, Prince.”

“Oh for the love of-We don’t even have secret identities! Everyone already knows who we are! I could just call him Virgil and it wouldn’t even-“

“You talk too much, Princey.”

A small red spike sailed right past his face, just barely skimming his nose, and he snorted as the once commanding voice in his ears let out a long suffering sigh.

“Enough bickering. We are in the middle of a fight. I don’t need you two arguing amongst yourselves when there’s an army of literal Hot Men assaulting the streets.”

The man fighting below Virgil scoffed.

“They’re not even that attractive. There’s been, maybe, one eight I’ve seen so far and that’s with me being generous.”

A giggle rang through the communications device in his ear as he represses his own answering chuckle when he hears the barely there sound of grinding teeth.

“You’re gonna mess up your teeth if you keep grinding them like that, Lo.”

“Yeah, Loco. Listen to your boss.”

More giggles and a huff of laughter filled his ears as he finally gave in and let out a chuckle.

“He’s your boss as well, Roman.”

Virgil glanced down to see the victorious smirk his princely counterpart gained upon hearing the grumbled reply.

“I thought we were supposed to be using hero names, Logos.”

It’s in this moment that Virgil is glad that Logan doesn’t have any powers.

Because, if he did, he probably would have destroyed something right then out of pure frustration.

“Logos, I have eyes on the leader. I think…”

Immediately, everyone quieted.

“Explain.”

“There’s a woman wearing a crown being carried and surrounded by some of the Hot Men. She’s actually cackling. It’s very dramatic.”

Virgil snorted and Roman let out a curious hum of interest.

“Is it a crown or a tiara?”

“It’s small and kind of looks like a headband.”

“A tiara then.”

Patton gasped and an explosion went off further down the street.

“Is it sparkly?!”

“It’s purple and made of plastic, I think.”

Now Roman was cackling and Virgil was pretty sure Logan was one step away from leaving the call and going off to flip whatever piece of furniture he came across first.

“Oh, that’s perfect! What’s your location?”

“Not sure. I think I’m in a bakery or something.”

More explosions down the street and Virgil swooped down to thin out some of the men surrounding the grinning prince, huffing out an irritated breath at the sudden increase of heat around him.

“Ooh! Is it the one with the bunny pastries?! Those are so good and cute! Virgil took me there last weekend! We should go back after the fight! We can all have bunnies together!”

Virgil huffed out a laugh at Patton’s cheerful exclamations, ducking into a roll as a wave of red needles flew out of Roman’s bloody palm.

“Yeah, there are bunny pastries. You’re right, they’re cute. But it’s a little wrecked at the moment so I don’t know if we could really get any right now.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Maybe later when the relief crew is finished?”

A slightly slick red staff was suddenly pressed into his hand, Virgil giving a quiet grunt of acknowledgment to its creator as he took it and started swinging at the steaming men around him as hard as he sensibly could without causing serious damage.

“Sure, Patton. Sounds like a good plan.”

“Yay!”

“HERO NAMES IN THE FIELD!”

The man had been so quiet for so long Virgil had almost forgotten he was still there.

Two twin calls of sorry responded to the rage filled voice and Roman snickered quietly as he sent a couple more Hot Men to the ground.

Virgil could hear Deceit snort softly as Logan sighed.

“Alright, enough of this inane chatter. We have work to do.”

There was a scoff behind him.

“Oh c’mon, Logos. You know you want pastry bunnies just as much as we do.”

The momentary silence was telling.

“That is beside the point. Knightmare, I need you to take Prince to Deceit’s location and distract the woman. She seems to prefer attractive men-“

Roman scoffed as Virgil easily picked him up and took to the air.

“Low standards.”

“-so you two should catch her attention easily. Patron-“

Patton let out a betrayed gasp, Virgil dodging a small explosion as he flew past him.

“I’m not attractive?!”

Roman snorted in his arms and Virgil smiled.

“You’re beautiful, Pat. Don’t worry.”

More explosions trailed behind them as Patton followed their route.

“Aw, Knight! You’re so sweet!”

“-I need you to make a field around the woman to prevent her from escaping should she realize what’s happening.”

“On it!”

A streak of light rocketed past him to hover in the air above the woman Virgil could now clearly see in the middle of the wrecked street.

Light started oozing through the air, coalescing into a shimmering bubble that the woman only glanced at briefly before returning her attention to the two flying towards her.

The hunger in her eyes made Virgil shudder unpleasantly and Roman gave him a gentle, consoling, pat on the shoulder before slipping from his arms and crashing into the throng of Hot Men below them with a burst of red.

Virgil silently cursed Logan in his head as he joined Roman in the fight, feeling increasingly uncomfortable as the woman practically drooled while watching them from her pedestal of Hot Men.

“Deceit, I need you to possess one of the Hot Men and use him to approach the woman unhindered. Once you’ve done that, use his body to kiss her on the lips, I believe this should reset her kiss counter and release all of the Hot Men from her control. If that doesn’t work, use the sub-frequency emulator to knock her unconscious. Hopefully that will, at least, relinquish her control.”

“Right.”

Virgil caught a glimpse of something darting out of a nearby building to pull in one of the Hot Men on the fringes of the fight.

“Kiss counter?! She uses kisses to do this?! How did you even figure that out?! None of us have seen her kiss anyone!”

The Hot Man walked calmly out of the building and towards the woman in the street as Logan answered Roman’s incredulous shouts.

“There are tattoo like markings barely visible on the skin of each Hot Man she’s controlling. They appear to be kiss marks and, from what I’ve seen, none of them are located on any of their lips but instead are on their necks, hands, faces, or arms. My hypothesis, given the data, is that she either cannot control them by kissing their lips or being kissed on the lips will reverse the effect.”

Virgil grunted as the Hot Men that had been holding the woman, six heavily muscled men all in various states of undress, gently put her down and started attacking him and Roman with far more strength than the rest.

“Did she find these guys at the gym or something?”

Roman snorted, Patton giving a quiet huff as he tried to stay focused on his task above them.

“At least they’re not from the beach. I don’t think I could handle fighting a man wearing nothing but a speedo.”

Virgil laughed a little at that, a smirk curling his lips and, annoyingly, making the woman’s eyes darken as she watched him.

“Banana hammock.”

Roman outright cackled at his correction, momentarily grabbing his arm to use as a support while he sent one of the Hot Men flying with a kick.

The woman was starting to slowly approach them now that they were surrounded by her strongest.

And Virgil had to resist the urge to simply grab Roman and hide behind the man as her focus remained zeroed in on him.

“Dee, can you please-“

“Got it.”

His almost panicked voice and increasingly erratic movements were halted as one of the Hot Men behind the woman suddenly pulled her close and kissed her right on the mouth.

Her eyes were wide and horrified and Virgil could understand why.

As soon as their lips met, the rest of the Hot Men suddenly went limp.

The barely there kiss marks that Logan had pointed out faded quickly away and the steaming heat radiating off of the men started to cool.

Virgil let out a sigh of relief as the, no longer, Hot Man knocked her out with a small device he pressed against her temple.

Then the man fell as well and Deceit calmly walked out of the nearby bakery and over the fallen men slowly waking up on the ground to join Virgil and Roman in the middle of the road.

The shimmering bubble of light around them dissipated and Virgil quickly flew up to catch Patton as he fell tiredly out of the sky and into his arms with a content sigh.

“This entire street looks like the aftermath of the biggest frat party in existence.”

Roman shook his head at Deceit’s comment, Virgil huffing out a laugh as Patton giggled in his arms.

“Oh no, I’ve seen bigger before.”

Patton’s giggles only increased and Virgil snorted almost violently as Deceit squinted at Roman’s shit-eating grin, Logan letting out one of the most long suffering sighs Virgil had ever heard.

“ETA on the relief crew, Lo?”

“Approximately two minutes, thirty seconds, Knightmare.”

“Cool. Tell ‘em to find us when they get here so we can offer our help.”

“Understood.”

Virgil placed Patton gently onto the ground when he landed, only noticing what Roman was doing when he felt something being placed on top of his head.

He blinked at the three heroes in front of him and raised an unimpressed brow when they all started bursting into laughter.

Even Logan snorted and laughed quietly into his earpiece.

Roman grinned like a loon, tears in his eyes as he struggled to stay upright while supporting both Patton and Deceit’s shaking forms.

Once, a long time ago, Virgil looked at the stars and asked himself a question.

“Would it be better if I was alone?”

Sometimes, he still asks himself that.

But then he remembers that he doesn’t really have a choice anymore.

“I knew it would suit you!”

Because being alone is impossible when he has a family who’s always there to keep him company.

(((((((((((((((((((()))))))))))))))))))))))

(Well, that was fun.)

(I really enjoyed coming up with all that banter.)

(Seriously, writing dialogue is one of my favorite things.)

(Anyways, here’s the gen taglist.)

​ @a-snoway-afternoon @ashrain5 @virgilscat @gumdrop2113@chelama @dragonsight9 @marse-422 @derpiest-unicorn @i-identify-as-a-mango @fearfilledvirgil @blitzgamev @the-life-ofa-troubled-ace @satanblessi @punsterterry

(Please tell me if I missed you or if you’d like to be taken off the list or added to either this general writing taglist or a taglist for this series specifically.)

A Bed of Links:

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Cerillen

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerillen/pseuds/Cerillen

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCPz4p5XdoRESDKZeMDnWXFQ

Discord: https://discord.gg/FsUhc5f

Fiverr: https://www.fiverr.com/cerillen

[compendiumofconstellations]

For the Rest of Our Lives

Diego & Riona get engaged featuring Klaus, because Klaus is apparently prompting all their relationship milestones.

           Diego sat on his bed, face in his hands. Every bit of his body was tense, as if somebody had wound him up but stopped him from moving.

           “Okay, you are having some kind of day.” Klaus interrupted his thoughts.

           Diego didn’t look at him. “How’d you get in?” He had called him, but he expected a knock or something to announce his brother.

           “The door. I’m surprised I haven’t been impaled.” Klaus sat beside him. “You called me to talk, so talk, Diego.”

           Diego let out a long sigh. “I…I want to…pro—pro—propose.” He hated the way he couldn’t get the word out. “To Riona.”

           “No, I thought you were going to ask me.” Klaus gave him a push. “Shouldn’t you have a sparkly ring to be fidgeting with?”

           Diego almost smiled. “She has a ring. A Claddagh. It’s an Irish ring that covers all the bases.” And he’d known for years that she wanted to be proposed to with her Claddagh. He remembered when she told him, and then she turned bright red and said she didn’t mean that to be directed at him specifically. Just a general thought. And, here he was, almost ten years later.

           “So, what’s the holdup?” Klaus asked. “She loves you, Diego.”

           “There’s a difference between loving someone and wanting to spend the rest of your life with them.” And the last time he decided to propose, he got dumped three weeks later. “I know she loves me. But…why would she want to spend her life with me?”

           “Because she knows you, Diego. Come on, she chose you years ago.” Klaus pushed him again.

           Diego looked over at his brother. “I live in the boiler room of a gym. I was kicked out of the Police Academy. I put on a mask and listen to a police radio at night and fight bad guys. I didn’t have a real childhood. I don’t even have a real name. Why would she marry me?” He took a deep breath. “She’s smart. She actually made it through the Academy. She is captivating and could be with anyone.”

           “And she’s with you! She chose your dumb ass! She wants to be with you, Diego! Even with all your baggage. Even with your inability to see what’s right in front of you. God, Diego. The way she looks at you makes me believe in soulmates. She adores you. She knows exactly who you are. So, stop letting your insecurities get the best of you!” Klaus pushed himself off the bed and pulled at Diego.

           Diego stood up. He knew Klaus still thought about Dave. Klaus’ great love, the one he lost. And here he was, scared that the woman who’d been on his side, who’d waited until he was in a place where he was ready to date—even when she told him she wasn’t going to wait for him, who had chosen him always, wasn’t going to marry him.

           “Let’s go for a walk,” Klaus suggested. “Get those nerves out. And when we come back, you better be ready to ask that woman to marry you.”

           “Yeah, okay.” Diego nodded and led the way to the door.

           But when he opened the door, Riona stood on the other side. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and he knew that she’d heard quite a bit of the conversation.

           “I can explain,” he said, hoping that the tears weren’t bad tears.

           She rolled up on tip-toes, cupped his face in her hands, and he leaned into her as she kissed him. He heard Klaus aww-ing behind him, but he was too focused on Riona to really pay him much attention. He wrapped his arms around her waist, held her close, and kissed her as if his life depended on it. She pulled back, and he didn’t open his eyes until she began to speak.

           “Your brother’s a smart guy,” she said. “Of course I will marry you, Diego Hargreeves.”

           Diego grinned at her. “You sure? You’re gonna be stuck with me forever.”

           “And I want it that way.” She grinned back. “For the rest of our lives, Diego.”

           “For the rest of our lives, Riona.” He pulled her Claddagh off and put it on her left hand, crown facing in. “I love you.” He kissed her again.

           “Okay, now you two are gross. So gooey,” Klaus whined.

           “Go away,” Diego mumbled against Riona’s lips.

           “Fine.”

           He felt Klaus walk by them, and Diego pulled Riona even closer.

           “You better thank him later,” Riona said between kisses.

           “I will,” Diego replied. “I have better things to do now, though.” He scooped Riona up and shut the door, bringing her into his place to celebrate.

[lucianhuntress]

Mishap in a Café - Part 2

Wordcount: 5111 Pairing: Ardyn Lucis Caelum x Fem!Reader. Warnings: SFW, douchy Ardyn and angry reader. Rating: Mature. Notes: Continuation from the previous part. It took forever to write, apologies for that, but @ardynyesconweek seemed like a good cause to motivate myself. Originally written to torment @glaive-eve with the help of @owldearest. This also slightly escalated! Brainstorming for a possible bonus chapter, depending on how my torment attempt succeeded. This is also the end of this “oneshot.” Day 7 - April 28th - “Contentment”

Part 1

I surely do hope you all like it!

What kind of games did the Astrals play on a person’s fortune? Did they laugh at someone's hardship? Or did they find it savory when a person found love? Maybe they just enjoyed tormenting people — because they were able to do so?

A week passed after Ardyn’s visit at your office. He had requested for you to become the contact between the crown and the company. Doubtlessly, it was a nice change of pace from the usual tasks, but still you couldn’t help but to wonder: how were you supposedly going to work as the contact when there was no communication?

Well, at least you didn’t have to look at his stupid smug face every day — which was the opposite of your expectations.

And luckily he hadn't revealed the mishap in the café to anyone. At least you hadn’t heard about it from anyone at the office.

The phone buzzed cheerily on your desk, making you snap awake from mystified thoughts that had slowly dragged your mind off to somewhere distant.

“Hello there! We should meet! How does lunch at 11am sound like?

-Ardyn Lucis Caelum”

You gritted your teeth as you took in the message. Even his text message was stupid. Gods, you hated him. It was obnoxious enough to have his phone number for the sole purpose of getting the job done.

“Sure thing, where are we eating at?”

It took way too long for you to type a message that short, but you didn’t want to sound too eager. Because no way in hell were you eager to see him.

“And it's for business, right?”

You decided to add after your finger had been hesitantly hovering over the 'send'-button.

“My, my — but of course it is for business. Or would you rather call it something else?”

You could read the dripping amusement through his message and you had already typed a “NO” to swipe the smug smirk off his stupidly gorgeous face. But before you could properly reply, he sent a following message:

“I'll take you to a restaurant I am greatly fond of. They have an exquisite cheesecake recipe and I'd hate to miss the opportunity of having some. I shall pick you up 10:30am at the office.”

Cheesecake? Seriously?

You bit back your gulp of defeat and threw a murderous glare at the clock on a wall. You still had an half an hour before the fateful event. He could have asked earlier...

And with slightly shaking fingers, much thanks to your blood being close to the point of boiling, you answered him with a weak “Okay, business lunch it is.”

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting in the backseat of Ardyn’s black car. He had greeted you with his trademark smile and you had politely given him a curt nod. If he only acted more like a prince, you’d actually greet him properly. Maybe.

But just the sight of him made your skin tingle from irritation. He wore another fine-tailored suit and a fedora, and he sat on the backseat with his hand on the back rest. His amber eyes flickered with mischief towards you, but he didn't strike a conversation.

You tried not to spare another glance at his direction as you sat next to him with your lips pursed and legs crossed.

The driver kept his eyes strictly on the road and Ardyn hummed a cheery tune almost the whole way down to the restaurant, which suited you well; you didn't have to get worked up any more than you already were.

The actual restaurant was stunning and you secretly gave the prince a little credit for choosing a place with calm atmosphere. Floors were covered with white, shining tiles and most of the walls were painted in brown and lit up with dim lights.

And a painting of Accordo —or so you presumed— hanged on a single brick wall.

It seemed only natural that a prince of Lucis kingdom would have lunch in an Altissian restaurant.

You scoffed at the imagine of him sipping fine Altissian wine from a glass. Ardyn gave you a questioning side eye, while he spoke to the staff. He didn’t want anyone to disturb this business meeting and he requested a peaceful table for two.

The lunch itself was simple; paella made from Accordian seafood, cockatrice pasta, Altissian fruit salad and spiced seaweed soup. It was all new and interesting to you and as much as you hated to admit; Ardyn was kind enough to order everything.

You tasted all the dishes, savoring every detail and flavor — completely forgetting about the original intent of having a lunch with Ardyn. He was seemingly amused at your dreamy expression after every spoonful.

“And here I thought the number one pet of a major corporation would have tasted Altissian cuisine before.”

“Shut up. I’m eating,” you sighed after another bite.

“I do hope we are not wasting time here, this is a — ah, a business lunch after all,” Ardyn said with a smug smile before he took a sip of water from his sparkly clean glass.

“Right,” you groaned, reluctantly leaving the spoon at the side of your plate. “Business it is.”

Ardyn hummed cheerily in approval and for a moment you caught yourself staring at his knowing smile. Your heart skipped a beat and your skin prickled again. You squeezed your hand to remind yourself of who he was and how vexing his behavior tended to be.

He calmly waited for you to pick up your notes, fingers gently drumming the glass in his hand. You already began to wonder if his stupid grin was glued permanently to his face.

Talking about business with Ardyn was a whole new level. He was well informed and skilled, but he also knew how things should be handled. Despite his surprising talent, you had to question some of his ideas, which made him to come up with better ones.

Your hand flied over the paper as you took down notes.

He paused from time to time to take a bite or two, and you followed suit.

“The campaign should start from there; it'll make the citizens more interested if it's all still fresh.”

“I will talk to the right department,” you huffed as you finished writing. Your wrist ached from the sudden burst with the pen, but you felt greatly satisfied.

“I want the drafts by Thursday,” Ardyn spoke thoughtfully, brows slightly furrowed and cheek resting on his knuckles.

You flashed an exhausted smile as you scribbled down: Thursday. “Is this all?”

He squinted his eyes and gracefully took a fork into his hand. You tried not to follow his actions, but you froze in awe to stare at his long fingers.

“Yes, unless you had something in mind,” he mused, taking the knife into his other hand.

You felt how your pulse increased almost rapidly and you ripped your gaze off his fingers. Warmth coiled in the pit of your stomach and it made you feel uneasy.

“N-no I'm fine,” you answered, shakily putting away your notes.

After the lunch had vanished from the plates into your stomachs, Ardyn got the cheesecake he so craved for. He had decided to order a slice for you as well, so you'd get the idea of a heavenly taste.

Sadly, he was right: the cake was extraordinary, divine and it melted right into your mouth.

The business lunch was concluded finally and Ardyn drove you back to the office. Well, technically he didn't drive. He only chuckled at the memory of your dreamy expression after you had had the first bite of the cake as the car drove past the coffee shop you used to go.

“Would you like to grab a cup of coffee?” Ardyn asked after studying your expression. He sounded so sincere that even the most reluctant company would have fallen abashed and complied.

But you knew Ardyn’s ulterior motive was just to tease you. How foolish you were back then.

“Maybe, but not with you.”

His smile faded, if only a bit. It made you feel victorious and you both remained quiet for the rest of the ride.

A few days later you had skillfully managed to trade your thoughts into something more important: work.

And there was no room to be caught in a web of love, hate, frustration, desire… which you were obviously miles away from.

Ardyn had left no messages or calls after that lunch, which was to be quite expected. He was a busy person after all. And the less time he spent with you, the happier you would be.

You had no need to inquire anything from him anyway; he had given you so much material to work with that you'd be busy for another week or so.

In fact, you were so busy that you barely had time to taste a bite of your lunch. A whole group had fallen ill due to a virus plaguing the office building and you were simply ordered to do their jobs as an addition to your own work.

You arrived home late every day. So late, that you could see the stars illuminating the sky above and too exhausted to continue that series you much loved on Chocoflix. You went straight to bed and got up early in the morning for work.

Coffee from your second favorite café was the only thing that kept your engine rolling.

One day, you felt so exhausted and drained that you decided to leave early and continue from home. And as you were on your way home, you walked past that coffee shop you used to visit. You halted almost immediately and gazed through the window longingly.

“Missed me?” You heard a familiar chuckle that sent a cool shiver down your spine. Ardyn looked like he was casually on a stroll, but he was obviously heading for the coffee shop. And he had caught you drooling at your favorite place rather dreamily.

“Uh, no.”

“Then why are you out here at this time of the day?” He was seemingly amused at the turn of events, like he had just learned a juicy secret.

“I’m on my way home,” you sighed and gave him a better eyeful. He was back to his ridiculous coffee-filter-attire. You were unsure if that was his outfit for blending in with commoners, but it seemed to be the very opposite.

He was about to speak, but you paused him and groaned in frustration. “Just, please. I am not in the mood for this shit today.”

Ardyn tilted his head and pondered for a moment.

“Then what is wrong?” he asked softly, making you grit your teeth. He caught you off-guard by sounding so sincere.

You really didn’t feel like opening up to him, not about work. Or anything. He probably knew nothing about long days in the office. “It's none of your business.”

He took a step closer and you steeled your mind. It was not the time to show any kind of weakness, not to him. You shot him a challenging glare, but he just furrowed his brows in concern.

“It is only my concern if the company working for the King himself burns out their best,” he narrowed his eyes and smiled, “Come on now, you should grab a coffee from here at least.”

Your heart skipped a beat. How many times you had told yourself to stay away from that café and that man?

“I promise to leave you be if that's what bothers you.”

“Fine.”

“Ah, and she's back in business.”

“But just this time,” you sighed, “and you are buying.”

It turned out to be something quite unexpected. The owner was too excited to get his regular customer back that he kept chatting you up for ten minutes. He would have continued even longer, if Ardyn hadn’t seen your distress across the room.

He came to the rescue, using work as an excuse for your attention and led you to the table he usually sat at.

If that was the master plan he had plotted, to get to spend time with you, he had succeeded. You sipped the coffee and watched Ardyn sipping his.

“Oh dear, you look exhausted,” Ardyn sighed and leaned in closer to observe your face. It made your heart flutter unexpectedly and you felt how your cheeks grew warmer under his observant gaze.

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled and averted your gaze from his piercing amber eyes. It was really nothing; before Ardyn had swooped into the picture of your work life, your boss had really kept you working. A lot.

“Oh, but it is.” You couldn’t avoid his scolding tone and you jumped slightly when he placed his coffee cup on the table a bit louder than normal. “If you are being driven to the point of a burn out at work, it should be a concern for me, since you work for the King.”

His words paused you, or more like, paused your brain. He was right, if you were specifically appointed to work as the contact, then you should be at your best. No one just casually ended up working for the King himself — unless you were hired to work in the Citadel.

“Take the day off,” he ordered. You wanted to protest but he smiled and whisked his hand. “I shall contact your bosses and let them know how things are.”

You felt bad; if they would ease your workload, others would suffer. Ardyn must have seen the horror in your eyes when he shook his head again, but this time, he smiled.

“My, aren’t you something…”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

He chuckled and took another sip of his coffee. “You keep surprising me, that is all. You may leave now if you truly don’t wish to spend time with me.”

After that day, Ardyn started visiting your office at least twice a week. At first, you felt surprised at the turn of events. Your coworkers squealed every time he swung by your office to bring you the coffee you loved. He told you that his reasons for visiting were to check upon how your work progressed and if you were being burned down again.

But after he left your office, your coworkers stormed in, asking if he was still a bachelor or what was his favorite dessert. Did he spend time in Galdin like the tabloids stated? Or who was the actress he spoke to last week?

You didn’t know the answers and you were unsure if you wanted to know.

Or so you claimed.

Ardyn took you to different restaurants to have lunch and you got to experience a whole new culinary side of life with him. The time you spent together became something you looked forward to, since working with him was pleasant. You both brainstormed new ideas, laughed and ate.

Surprisingly, you started to enjoy your time with him and you always looked forward to these business lunches.

It had been raining the whole week when the mood in the office shifted all the sudden. You heard the usual excited murmuring coming over from your female coworkers’ offices, yet you couldn’t help but to feel curious about the cause for this commotion, even when you knew the answer in the back of your mind.

Your questions were answered sooner than you could stand up and take a peek to the corridor. Prince Ardyn strolled into your office almost like he owned the place, completely unannounced and carrying two cups of take away coffee in his hands.

He wore just another suit that had cost more than your monthly salary, topmost button of his shirt undone and hair ruffled. He leaned against the door frame, looking quite seductive with his knowing smile. Had you been just one of the office ladies, you would have swooned right at his feet — but instead you forced a stern expression even when you felt the warmth creeping up your neck.

Still, you felt less anxious about him being in your office; the past weeks had been sure lively with all the wild gossip, but somehow that didn’t bother you that much as it had in the beginning. In fact, you felt rather happy to see him checking up on your progress once again.

The excited murmuring turned into slightly jealous one and you could have sworn that you’d be able to mine a mountain of salt from your coworkers if you had the interest to do so.

You just calmly reminded yourself that you had no romantic interest in the scoundrel prince. It was just business.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, quirking a brow. He had visited your office just the day before, so it was unexpected to see him so soon again.

“I missed you, so I decided to stop by,” Ardyn jested with a theatrical undertone and walked over to your desk. He placed the other cup on it. It even had your name written on it.

“Aren’t you funny,” you snorted and crossed your arms over your chest.

“You know, I was surprised that I haven’t seen you at the coffee shop after all this time, so I brought the coffee shop to you,” he sighed like it was the most obvious solution. You burst into a fit of giggles, completely uncontrollably. He quirked a brow at you and his smile widened, but it was softer than the normal teasing one. “Though it would have been rude to bring everything from the café here, so this is just a free sample.”

“Sure,” you groaned and took the cup he had brought for you. There was no harm in drinking the warm, hot caffeine you had so long missed? “You don’t need to come here and bring me coffee, you know.”

“Oh, I know— but I needed to see you.”

The heat crept even further. Your cheeks glowed and you avoided his intense look.

“And why is that?” you asked, somewhat rasply.

“Business?” Ardyn said and tilted his head to a side. Of course it was business, you felt silly and you didn’t really need to feel anymore bothered than you already were. “Or did you have something else in mind?”

“Just… never mind,” you said and lifted your gaze to meet his amber eyes. You weren’t going to give up, even when you felt so abashed in his company. Ardyn just tilted his head to side and grinned.

“How about a dinner?”

Your heart probably missed a few beats. A dinner. With a prince. Even when you knew it was for business, it didn't ease the tiny bit of fluttering inside of you.

“Let’s see… I can do Thursday.” You regained your resolve. It was hard to pull your thoughts back into work when he waited so calmly across your desk.

“Thursday sounds absolutely wonderful.” Ardyn had placed a hand on your desk, making you feel so small under his towering shade. “Lavender Wine?”

Did he ever consider eating in a slightly cheaper restaurant?

“Sure.”

He smiled and turned on his heels to leave your office.

“You know— you could have just called or texted…” you muttered before he was gone through your doorway.

“But then again, who would have brought you the coffee?” he asked, looking at you over his shoulder. You opened your mouth in an attempt for another protest, but Ardyn shook his head and left.

The business dinner went smoothly, so smoothly, that you felt like you were out on a date. With your notes in your bag. It had been a while since Ardyn had had lunch with you, but clearly something had changed.

Ardyn acted more like a prince should, well, until you said something silly. Then he would say something to make your cheeks burn, since he really enjoyed to see your flustered expressions or fiery outbursts the sweet teasing caused.

You didn't even know why would you have feelings for someone like him, but there they were. Growing stronger every time he flashed a seductive, searching gaze at your direction.

It was a gaze you wished to avoid, but yet you caught yourself looking at his features way too many times.

“Lunch today?”

It took forever to write that message and your heart kept throbbing. It was a simple question, yet it made you feel like the bottom of your stomach has fallen off.

“I am terribly sorry, but there is something I need to do. I can’t make it today.”

Your eyes widened from surprise and you could have sworn that your heart stopped beating. He had never declined your suggestions for lunch.

“He’s just busy,” you mumbled to yourself. After all, the project was important to Ardyn.

A few days passed. You worked with the materials you had in your hands, even when you were running out of them.

Then, your phone rang.

Ardyn Lucis Caelum flashed on the phone screen and you quickly answered it.

“Hello! It is I, Ardyn Lucis—”

“Yeah, I get it. What’s up?” you answered the phone, beaming from ear to ear. That was the complete opposite of how you had behaved months ago and you wanted to punch yourself, but you felt a wave of relief washing over you when you heard his voice.

“How rude,” Ardyn said, but you could hear the joy in his tone. “You asked me for lunch the other day, but I couldn't brighten your lovely day with my presence.”

“Uhh…”

He chuckled. “Now now, what are you thinking? So when should we have lunch? I will be back tomorrow.”

“How about Monday?” you shook off the abashment his mischievous tone had caused.

“Aaahhh… Monday won't work,” Ardyn gasped with a theatrical tone. You rolled your eyes to the ceiling. “How about… Wednesday? There’s a gala downtown and I am sure you have been invited…”

You furrowed your brows. Gala? No one had talked anything about a gala. Your plans for the day seemed oddly empty for a Wednesday anyway. Ardyn noticed your sudden silence and he let out a soft, thoughtful hum.

“That is strange, I indeed thought you were the number one pet of this company,” he sighed in slight disappointment. You felt the urge to slap him; you weren’t anyone’s pet. “I guess you could come with— actually that might be a bad idea… the press will be all over the place.”

“You know what, I’ll just talk to my superiors and they’ll get me in,” you answered with a slight annoyed tone, which was odd to your new behavior.

“Dress up nicely then!” Ardyn said after a brief moment spent in mental recovery. “The party will be full of fancy high class people and they have high standards.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” you growled, “I would be more worried about you.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” he said and wished a goodbye.

Completely drowning in your fury, you took a sip of the coffee you had on your desk.

The gala evening. The cream of the Insomnia strolled into a high tech building in the centrum of the crown city. Press was everywhere and flashlights blinded the more… unpopular guests. An actor after another, a politician, a comedian…

The list went on and on. And then, there was you. A commoner with barely a tie to the higher class. Even some of your executives were there and those were the ones who had helped you in. It was easy after dropping the prince’s name.

After that —well… You had spent quite some time shopping both online and in boutiques. Finally all that shopping bore fruit and you found a dress that wasn’t too expensive, but still went well with the top cream.

You walked in, dazzled by the celebrities around you. But no one else truly made you feel like the prince did.

Ardyn was casually ordering a drink, wearing a dark suit and hair still disheveled in a rather sexy way. You wanted to pinch yourself, but too many guests were around you. It would have looked odd.

“You look lovely,” Ardyn purred with a glass of champagne in his hand as you walked to greet him.

You answered him with a roll of eyes and ordered yourself a drink from the bartender. You just couldn’t stop the happy fluttering of butterflies in your stomach.

“So, why did we have to talk business in here?” you inquired,trying to ignore his compliment.

He leaned against the bar counter with his elbow and took a sip before answering: “This is a good chance to socialize with important people.”

You quirked a brow in disbelief. Why would he help you?

Ardyn saw the doubt in your eyes and let out a soft chuckle. “After our project is concluded, you will have quite the resume and finding a better job should be easier if you know the right people.”

“And why would I want to change jobs?” you questioned and narrowed your eyes at him to stop the heat from creeping up your neck. Why it was so hard?

“Because…” he took a step closer to you. You lifted your gaze to meet his amber eyes and you felt how the liquid sultriness poured down inside of you. “You deserve so much better—”

He was so close that you could smell his cologne and that scent alone was enough to jam your train of thought. “—and…”

“I…” Ardyn spoke while he placed his glass on the counter. Then he moved his hand to softly caress your jawline. Your heart raced from anticipation, your palms tingled and you had lost your ability to breathe.

His thumb swept softly over your lower lip. Your heart skipped a beat.

He murmured a confession, but it was completely incoherent, or maybe you couldn't understand his sentence, because your mind had slipped from your grasp minutes ago.

Ardyn leaned in closer after his gaze had dropped onto your lips. He had hesitated a moment before, with the sweetest smile on his lips.

You should have hated him, but that hatred was long gone. You wanted to taste his lips just as badly as he wanted yours.

That one thought made your brain all woozy and giddy, but the kiss you expected — never happened.

“Your drink—”

Ardyn pulled away, clearly vexed by the interruption caused by the bartender who had mixed your drink and now expected to be paid.

“I-I am sorry, Your Highness, I can—”

The bartender clearly realized what was going on and his face had turned red, all the way up to the tips of his ears.

The prince sighed clearly in disappointment and turned to face the bartender. You could see how he was gritting his teeth, but your heart still pounded in your ears.

He had almost kissed you.

Ardyn didn't say anything. He just gave the bartender a tense nod. You paid your drink and quickly poured it down into your suddenly-dry-throat.

“Aha! Found you!”

You and Ardyn both turned around only to find a woman in somewhat posh outfit. Her hair was long and silvery and on a neat ponytail. Her eyes glimmered like a storm and her lips had curled into a small smile.

“Aranea! Isn’t this unexpected!” Ardyn gasped dramatically, but you heard the same joking undertone he used with you. “Never thought I’d see you here.”

Somehow hearing him speak to a beautiful woman in a way you thought was reserved only for you hurt more than it should have.

Of course she would have been a high-born lady; even her expensive designer dress screamed so. You wouldn't stand a chance against someone like her. You felt a tear dwelling in the corner of your eye.

“Well, I thought you asked me to—” her eyes shifted to study you from head to toe. Her smile wavered and you felt an uncomfortable sting in your guts. “Who is this? Why is she here?”

“This is—”

“You know, I'm actually just gonna go if you have some unfinished business,” you said, hurt screaming through your words while avoiding their piercing gazes. You wanted to get out of there. Your heart ached and head spun, and it made you nauseous.

There was no chance that you, a commoner, could ever…

You bit your lower lip as you dashed away from the mingling guests, right into the pouring rain. Flashlights still lighting up the entrance to the building.

You ran, having no idea where to head. You ran, clothes heavy and sticky from being wet.

The memories of him, looking at you and leaning slowly closer slashed your chest painfully. What if you had kissed?

“Y/N!”

Would things be different if you had answered his kiss?

“Y/N!”

Everything went blurry thanks to the tears and the rain hazing your vision, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to care. You wanted to…

Someone grabbed your arm and pulled you back. He embraced you and you rested your cheek against his chest. He was warm. And familiar.

“Ardyn…”

You didn’t want to cry against his chest, but the remaining tears you had been holding back rolled down your cheeks.

“Why did you run away? You’re getting soaked,” he murmured and stroked your cheek. His clothes were soaked too, but he didn’t seem to care.

“You…” It pained to think about it. “And that woman…”

“Aranea?” Ardyn seemed surprised to hear your hurt. “She’s my subordinate. I never thought you would be jealous. She was on an important mission and she came to report...”

Subordinate.

Your heart fluttered happily. “I…”

Ardyn quirked a brow, but the wide smile on his face told more than a thousand words. “But why have you been so mean to me?”

“Because I didn't know how to… behave around you. You drive me crazy, in a rather good way.”

You squeezed the fabric of his suit, feeling speechless.

“Now, if you excuse me, I'd like to finish what we were about to begin back there.”

He closed the gap between you and him and pressed his lips on yours. Your heart raced madly and you didn't want to pull away. You smiled against his warm lips.

“Would you like to be mine?” he murmured in between the gentle kisses.

A smile was drawn upon your lips. You wanted to answer, to tell him that it was what you wanted, but he kept interrupting you with a kiss after another.

You wanted to be there with him, soaked in the rain.

And so, you found something you hadn’t been seeking before.