#I love the love potion trope too much or something that forces you to feel love. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

part-time-zombie · 3 months

Text

Nobody's Fool But Yours

pairings: romantic prinxiety

summary: virgil doesn't want to admit that he loves roman. if he did then he'd have to come to terms with the fact that roman doesn't love him back. after a prank gone too far ends up with roman head over heels for someone else, virgil can't help but think he's truly lost any chance he had. maybe love can still blossom when it's least expected...

tags/warnings: love potion, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, this is what happens when an aroace loser tries to write a love story, janus and remus are kinda jerks in this one but whatever, subtle background demus if you squint

word count: 8779

a/n: i came up with the idea for this one after seeing the use of love potions as a trope and thinking "has it ever been used on someone they weren't already in love with?". i don't know if this turned out ok.

Virgil knew he was a downer. He killed the vibe constantly, always finding the negative in things until they weren’t interesting or exciting anymore. He was a pessimist, a depressing force that discouraged Thomas and the other sides from trying anything even remotely fun. He knew that.

It didn’t mean he couldn’t still be hopeful.

There have been times where his nervousness turned into anticipation, where he became excited instead of anxious. When that happened he felt almost optimistic, and the daunting scale of things fell away to reveal incredible potential. It was infrequent, but it still happened on occasion.

Especially around Roman.

He didn’t know what it was about Roman, how he carried a confidence so contagious it seemed to sometimes bleed over to Virgil and pierce his fog of fear with light and song. It had been happening a lot more lately, and Virgil was simultaneously concerned and grateful for it. Sure, he appreciated those momentary bouts of enthusiasm that almost made him forget about whatever it was that had been worrying him, but he wanted to understand why and how it was happening.

If he didn’t know any better he’d say it felt like butterflies in his stomach, but that was ridiculous. There was no way he felt like that about Roman of all sides, they were almost complete opposites in every way. Roman was too loud, too boisterous and dramatic and almost obnoxiously optimistic. He was overly confident in a way that bordered on arrogance, and he never thought things through before acting on impulse and putting himself and Thomas at risk.

Then why does Virgil still like spending time with him? Why the hell does he care so much about what Roman says or thinks about him? Why does he react so strongly to something as small as Roman smiling at him? Why does seeing him happy make Virgil feel this way, where he almost feels sure enough in himself to take a chance in the same way that Roman does?

He didn’t have a good answer for that.

It was hard to say when this had all started, he just gradually became aware of that funny feeling being there. Roman would do well on an audition or be celebrating a successful date that Thomas had been on, and as he danced around the living room with that happy glow on his face Virgil would be struck with that weird-but-not-bad feeling that made him want to do something. He didn’t know what, but he felt this almost excited drive to just… he didn’t really know. It was like an enthusiasm he couldn’t place, a buzzing in his veins and a thrumming in his chest that made him feel weightless and restless all at once, and it only happened like that when he was around Roman.

It wasn’t just Roman’s happiness that affected him. If Roman was struggling with something or upset about a lost opportunity he regrets not being able to take, Virgil would feel a heaviness in his chest and a knot in his stomach that would not leave him alone. This feeling was a lot easier for him to identify as dread and grief, but when he felt it towards Roman it was overwhelming. He couldn’t stand seeing him so dejected, so utterly devastated, and he would want to help in any way he could. He usually didn’t do too well with that, though. It was pretty clear that Roman was in need of a type of comfort that Virgil didn’t know how to give him.

Sometimes it felt like they spoke different languages. They were just too different, too unlike each other to like each other. That fact shouldn’t sting as much as it does, but it still made Virgil’s heart ache every time he thought about it. Roman had been so nice to him, he worked to make him feel like he was a part of the family, and Virgil couldn’t even return the favor in a way that mattered.

Despite this, Roman still spent time with him. In fact, Virgil usually wound up hanging out with Roman more than any other side. They would watch movies and play video games together in Roman’s room late into the night, joking back and forth until their sides hurt from laughing so much. Virgil didn’t usually laugh that hard around the others, yet Roman somehow knew just how to tease it out of him every time, spouting quips until Virgil was smiling so hard his face hurt.

It was on one of those days when it happened.

Virgil was with Roman in his room while they watched a movie. Well not so much watch, as they had both already seen it plenty of times by now and were mostly using it as background noise while they talked over it. They usually talked about senseless topics, never wavering any deeper than sharing their feelings on recent events, but this time Virgil felt surprisingly open, almost vulnerable in a way he never let himself be. He doesn’t remember how, but the conversation somehow made its way over to loneliness, an old and familiar ache for Virgil.

“You ever worry about dying alone?” he had asked. It was a more personal fear of his, and one he hadn’t planned on bringing up with Roman, yet it appears he was going to do just that.

Roman was quiet for two moments too long, and Virgil started to worry that he had gone and brought the mood down again. “Probably more than I should, if I’m being honest. But I try not to think about it. After all, with how likeable I am someone is bound to want to stick around,” he said this with a light and easygoing tone, but it sounded hollow in some subtle way. “Besides, it’s not like I’m completely alone. I’ve got Thomas and the others, and I’ve got you.”

Virgil’s stomach did that weird thing again, but he tried to ignore it. Besides, Roman surely didn’t mean it. Virgil was a buzzkill, a downer of the highest degree. To think that anyone, let alone Roman, would actually want to stick around with him that long was laughable.

“You’ll get tired of me eventually. It’s not exactly like I’m fun to be around,” he said.

“I didn’t say that. In fact, I think you can actually be some pretty decent company whenever you let your guard down like this,” Roman responded with a smile.

“You don’t mean that. I know I’m a lot to deal with, and I’ve probably got better luck at catching lightning in a bottle than finding someone who actually likes me.”

Roman didn’t say anything to that, though his eyes shone with an odd determination, like he had been presented with some challenge. He let Virgil change the subject, and the conversation was quickly forgotten in favor of a lighter topic.

It was two days later that Roman had knocked on Virgil’s door late at night. When Virgil finally pulled himself out of bed to answer the door, Roman had shoved something into his arms with a victorious smile before he could even get a word in.

“May the odds be forever in your favor, Katniss Everdoom,” he said with a wide grin.

Virgil looked down at what Roman had given him, only to nearly drop it in shock.

It was an ornate glass bottle, cap tightly secured to hold in the lightning bolt it contained. It writhed and danced around in the bottle like a tesla coil, never dwindling in its light or liveliness.

Virgil looked up at Roman in disbelief. “I, what, how did you… “

“Well, now that you’ve got your lightning in a bottle, maybe next time you’ll believe it when someone tells you they want to spend time with you,” he joked, granting Virgil one last wave before heading to his own room for the night. Virgil held the bottle close, unsure whether or not it was the static electricity from the lightning that made his nerves go all tingly and haywire.

That was around the time that Virgil had first started to consider the idea that he may have feelings for Roman, feelings that he really didn’t want to have to deal with.

Virgil had gotten really good at not dealing with those feelings, as it turns out. He could turn his smiles into smirks, avoid any and all discussions about romance by pretending to be annoyed instead of exposed, and squash down the butterflies like they were never there. It wasn’t easy but he got used to it, not like he had a choice. He couldn’t actually be expected to go and say something about what he was feeling, he’d just run the risk of mockery from the others and rejection from Roman, neither of which he wanted to endure. No, it was safest for him to just keep these stupid feelings to himself until he either stopped having them or died, whichever came first.

It was hard to not pretend to feel them around Roman, though. Especially when it was just the two of them in his room joking about the movie they weren’t watching. On nights like that when he made Roman hunch over and clutch at his sides with laughter, he felt almost tempted to go and say something about how seeing Roman this happy made Virgil feel less afraid. He’d stop himself every time, reminding himself that there was no way it would turn out well. He would just make Roman uncomfortable, overstepping their friendship by trying to make it into something emotional and complicated when it didn’t need to be. Besides, there was no way Roman felt like that about him. Virgil was everything that Roman stood against; fear versus confidence, pessimism versus optimism, doubt versus hope. That Roman tolerated him at all was miraculous enough.

Virgil tried to will the feelings away, spending more time alone and away from Roman and staying up far later than he wanted blasting every breakup song he knew to try and talk him out of it.

It didn’t work, all it did was make him even more miserable and tired.

This was stupid, he was being stupid. This wasn’t some ridiculous middle school crush; he was just surprised and happy to actually be friends with Roman and his idiot brain didn’t know how to handle it. That was all. Just a misunderstanding on his part and nothing more. It isn’t love.

The loud chiming of his alarm woke Virgil with a jerk. He really wanted to just go back to sleep, just sleep until everything went away. He heard the others make their way downstairs for breakfast, and Virgil resisted the urge to just roll over and stay in bed. If he did he would just make Patton worry, who would then get everyone else all freaked out and convinced that he had ducked out again, and he really didn’t want to put up with that whole mess.

Sighing in defeat, Virgil dragged himself out of bed and got dressed before slowly trudging down the hall towards the stairs. As he passed the others rooms, he heard a low but familiar chuckle come from behind one of the doors. He paused, looking at the door to Janus’ room. Why the hell was Remus in there, and what was he laughing about? Not wanting to be on the receiving end of another one of their jokes, he threw the door open with a growl.

Janus and Remus turned in surprise to look at him, mischievous smiles slowly leaving their faces once they realized they had been interrupted.

“What the hell is so goddamn funny this early in the morning?” Virgil asked them. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever this was, and it was best to shut it down before it became anything worse.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Janus said with a smirk. “It’s not funny at all, and I’m definitely looking forward to a peaceful breakfast downstairs with everyone.”

Remus chuckled darkly, far less subtle about his amusement. “Oh yeah, I’m sure you’ll just love what’s for breakfast, Virge. Best go and grab a plate before there’s none left for you.”

Virgil pushed past the worry that had started to creep up on him, turning it into anger. “Look, whatever it is you guys are planning on doing, just don’t even try.”

“Oh, but Virgil, I’m afraid it’s already been done,” Janus cooed. “We’re just staying out of range. You ought to do the same, if you’re smart. Or not. Either way we’ll have a good laugh.”

Now Virgil let himself feel worried. Whatever they were doing it definitely wasn’t good, and he had to go warn the others before anything happened. He ran down the stairs without another word, rushing to the kitchen in a panic. In the time it took him to get downstairs his mind had already supplied him with a surplus of suggestions on the scene he’d walk into: fire, poison, injury, death, humiliation, mutilation, mockery, the very least he’d see is some horrible drama. He turned the corner, barging into the kitchen in a breathless rush, coming face to face with-

The other sides calmly sitting down to start breakfast.

Virgil struggled to get his breath back, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Patton was currently in the middle of flipping the last of the pancakes and Roman and Logan were seated calmly at the table, now looking up at him in surprise at his sudden entry. Everything looked exactly like it was supposed to, not a single thing out of place.

“Virgil, is everything alright?” Logan asked, confusion and concern in his voice.

“Yeah, I just… are you guys okay?” he asked in return, cringing at the shake in his voice.

“We’re all perfectly fine, though you clearly seem troubled. Did something happen?”

Virgil tried to calm himself down. Maybe Janus and Remus were just messing with him, trying to get him all worked up over nothing until he panicked over another false alarm. It definitely wouldn’t be the first time they pulled something like that, anyway.

“No, I just, did any of you see Remus or Janus in here earlier?”

“Oh god, what did they do this time?” Roman said with a groan before grabbing one of the finished pancakes and applying a generous helping of syrup to it.

“I don’t know, they were just acting really weird this morning.”

Patton finished the pancakes and took a seat next to Roman, curious and concerned. Roman looked down to take a large bite of his syrup-soaked breakfast as Logan answered him.

“I don’t recall seeing either of them all morning, in fact I was about to go look for them as they hadn’t shown up to eat yet. I doubt either of them did anything devious, Virgil.”

Roman looked up from his plate to throw a skeptical glance at Logan. He looked like he was about to say something, only for his jaw to fall open as he let his fork drop to the floor with a clatter.

“Roman, you okay?” Patton asked him.

Roman absently nodded his head in response, not taking his eyes off of the logical side. It didn’t take long for Logan to start to squirm under the stare.

“Is there something on my face?” he eventually asked.

Roman blinked and slowly shook his head, the ends of his mouth quirking upwards in a dopey openmouthed grin. “No, nothing. You look fine, Logan. Actually, you look great.”

Virgil’s jaw dropped in sync with everyone else’s. What the hell?

Logan balked for a moment, stunned by the sudden compliment. “I beg your pardon?”

“I just never really noticed how good those glasses look on you until now. You certainly wear them better than Patton does, anyway,” Roman said, smile never leaving his face.

“Roman, while I appreciate the flattery, you do know we have the same face, right? I don’t wear these glasses any differently than Patton does, and you don’t usually compliment me to begin with, so I must say I am surprised by this sudden change in behavior,” Logan slowly responded.

Roman’s face fell for a moment, before it swiftly brightened again. “Well, I’m sorry I never really complimented you before. You certainly deserve more praise, anyway. Maybe I can make up for it starting now. I mean, it’s not just your glasses that make you look so cool. It’s how your eyes shine behind them like stars in the night sky. And you really hold yourself with such composure and focus, it’s kind of mesmerizing to watch. Your hair is always so neatly combed, too, not a single strand out of place. I really must commend you for that, it is no easy feat. I just can’t believe I never noticed how amazing you are until now,” he exclaimed.

Virgil had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation that made sense. Either that or Roman was pulling one of the cruelest jokes of all time, but he wouldn’t do something like this. Why was he saying any of this, especially to Logan of all sides? While they didn’t hate each other, they certainly didn’t get along very well. They were constantly butting heads, and in all the years he’s known them Roman has never gone and flirted with him like this, almost like he was…

“Roman,” Patton slowly asked him, “are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Roman finally turned to look at him, a lovestruck look on his face. “Of course, padre. I feel awesome, actually. I haven’t felt so light and lovely in a long time, it’s like all the love in me has finally found the chance to come singing to the surface, and all for Logan!” he clapped his hands together excitedly, expression shifting to something like a revelation as he looked back at Logan.

“That’s it! Logan, I’m going to compose a ballad in your name, expressing just how lovely you are! It could even be a duet. I know you aren’t too fond of singing, but it would be amazing if you’d sing this with me. You have such a beautiful singing voice, after all. Please, Logan, you’d be great at it, I know you will! You’re always so great at everything, and I would love to hear you sing with me!”

The distant sound of laughter made its way into the room, and Virgil turned to face Remus and Janus as they entered the kitchen.

“Oh, this is so much better than I thought it’d be,” Remus said with a laugh. “I just can’t get over the look on his face right now, he looks so stupid! He’s got no idea what happened!”

“What happened?” Logan asked, impatience evident in his voice.

“Oh, Logan, and here I thought you were clever enough to figure it out on your own,” Janus said with a condescending click of the tongue. “Remus put a love potion in the syrup, you see. While I did tell him that it was a bad idea at first, I must say I’ve since changed my mind.”

Virgil stared at them in shock. Janus had to be lying. Remus wouldn’t actually, he didn’t-

“Okay, this has gone way too far, you guys. I know you like to pull some really nasty stuff, but this is so not funny,” Virgil said, voice low and rumbling with anger.

“Oh, no, you’re right, Virge. It’s not funny, it’s fucking hilarious,” Remus cackled.

“What the hell is he talking about,” Roman said as he stood up from his chair. His expression changed from lovesick to furious, moving protectively in front of Logan with his sword in hand. “You should leave while you can before I cut you down. You don’t get to mess with Logan, not today. Now go while I’m giving you the chance. That goes for you too, snake,” he snarled.

Remus gave him a mockingly patronizing smile and a shrug before turning and strolling away with Janus in tow. Their laughter never quieted even after they had gone back upstairs. Roman sighed in relief once they had left, before looking back at Logan again.

“Are you alright, Logan? You know I wouldn’t let either of them try anything on you, right?”

Logan was unphased by the sudden appearance of the two sides, though he was definitely more focused on Roman. He stood up from his chair to better look Roman in the eye. “Did you not hear what Janus had said,” he started, keeping his voice even to ensure Roman listened. “Remus put a love potion in the syrup. You are currently under the effect of a drug; whatever it is you are feeling isn’t real. Please tell me you understand.”

Roman definitely understood him, going by the confused and conflicted look on his face as the words sunk in. It didn’t look like he accepted it, though.

“But this love is real, Logan,” he asserted. He took Logan’s hands into his own, looking down at them with teary eyes. “I know for a fact what love feels like. I’ve been feeling it for years now and this is that same love, just stronger and directed at you now. It won’t go away and I can’t stop feeling it, I’ve tried. I know that you probably want me to stop this, and I doubt you feel the same way about me, but I still feel love for you, and I can’t change that.”

Logan nodded before gently removing his hands from Roman’s. “I’m going to go talk to Janus and Remus to see if they’ll tell me how to undo the potions effects. Can you please wait here until I get back? I won’t be gone very long.”

Roman looked back at him, skepticism warring with loyalty. “How do you know they won’t try to hurt you? I think I ought to go with you just to make sure you’re safe,” he offered.

“I doubt they’ll do anything else today. Even if they did, they aren’t capable of actually hurting me. I will be fine, I promise. Just wait here for me, alright?”

Roman hesitantly nodded, watching as Logan made his way up the stairs before obediently taking a seat. Patton offered him a fresh pancake to comfort him while Virgil made himself busy tossing the syrup coated ones in the trash before anyone else could eat them.

He tried to ignore the slight shakiness in his hands, forcing himself to take a deep breath to steady himself. So Roman was in love with Logan now. Even if it wasn’t real, it was still real to Roman, and it might even be permanent. He could be like this forever. He tried to be positive about it, tried to feel happy that Roman could be this happy and in love after feeling so down lately, but he couldn’t stop himself from worrying. How far would this “love” go? Does Logan feel the same, and if he doesn’t how would Roman cope with that kind of rejection? Roman could be angry or hurt, he might never be able to recover from the love potion if that happens. It could turn into obsession, he could become hateful towards anyone he thinks is trying to take Logan from him.

Even if the potion could be reversed, how would it effect Roman afterwards? This is basically a roofie; he could do something he’d regret, and if he did would he even remember what happened? Could it wear off at all? It might be permanent, he might be like this forever now, utterly devoted to Logan in a way he had never been before. He didn’t even realize he had been holding his breath until the burning in his lungs forced a gasp from him.

He turned back to the other sides in the kitchen as he finished putting the now empty dish in the sink. Roman looked lost in thought, barely even looking at Patton, who was currently trying to say anything he could think of to make him feel better. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke, his hands fidgeting in his lap. He was worried too, though he was better at dealing with it.

“Now I know you said this love feels real to you, kiddo, but could you explain it to me please?” he asked, neither of them touching their now cooled pancakes.

“I don’t know how to put it into words, Patton,” Roman started, losing himself to the potions effects again as a wistful smile made its way to his face. “It’s like I look at him and everything just feels so much more… vibrant. Everything he does is just so brilliant, and I can’t get myself to look away from him, let alone stop thinking about him. When he looks at me, I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster. It makes me want to do anything to make him happy just so I can keep seeing him smile. Have you ever felt anything like that before?”

“No,” Patton replied.

Yes, Virgil thought.

Logan returned shortly after, looking slightly weary though he did his best not to show it. He adjusted his tie as he descended the stairs, and Roman lit up all over again the second he saw him.

“It appears this potion is not designed to be permanent,” he started, much to Virgil's relief. “However, Remus was decidedly unclear on how or when it would wear off. He seemed to imply that there was some cure, but he did not elaborate on it no matter how much I asked.”

“So, it’s basically permanent, then,” Virgil mumbled. “If there’s a cure, but we don’t know it or have it, then there’s nothing we can do to fix it. He’ll just be stuck like this forever if we can’t figure out the cure. He may never go back to normal.” He could feel the panic building again, he didn’t want Roman to be under these effects forever.

Logan gave him a knowing look. “Virgil, I doubt this will be a completely permanent change. It will probably wear off eventually, and if not then I will still be working on crafting an antidote the whole time. Remus said there was a cure, and we will find it. He will be alright.”

“Of course I’m alright,” Roman interjected. “Nothing about me has changed, my love is still just as real as it has always been. I may start feeling it towards Logan now, but these feelings are nothing new to me. I know for a fact that this love is not going anywhere, never has, never will.”

Roman had to be delirious. He didn’t love Logan, right? He’d have said something, done something, to let his feelings slip if he had really been feeling them all this time like he said he did.

Patton seemed to share Virgil's confusion. “Kiddo, what do you mean when you keep saying that you’ve had these feelings for a long time?” he asked.

“I mean that I’ve been in love this whole time, it’s just that now I’m in love with Logan.”

… what?

“Who were you in love with before?” Virgil whispered.

Roman took his eyes off of Logan for a moment, screwing his face in concentration. “I… don’t know. It’s all kind of fuzzy, I just know I’m in love and that Logan is who I feel that love for now.”

He looked back up, taking in the shock and confusion on everyones faces. And the dread that was probably on Virgil's. “I don’t mean to make this all so complicated, I really can’t help feeling this way about him.” He turned back in his chair to face Logan. “I know it’s a long shot, but… do you happen to feel that way about me at all?”

He looked hopeful, but full of doubt at the same time. Virgil didn’t know which would be worse to hear, Logan rejecting him or reciprocating. All eyes were on Logan now, curious on how he would answer this heavy question.

“I’m very sorry but I don’t feel the same way about you, Roman,” he said, voice soft and sympathetic. “I know you feel very strongly towards me right now, but it is a feeling I do not share.”

Roman's face fell. He looked down at his hands in his lap, quiet for a moment. “I kind of figured,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It’s alright, though. You don’t have to pretend to like me back. Just know that I’m still in love with you, Logan. I hope that’s alright.”

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” Logan replied. “It is obvious that you cannot control these feelings, regardless of whether they are real or not. I need to find the cure for the potion. Would you like to take your mind off things and watch a movie downstairs while I work?”

The movie played out with little interruption. Patton kept trying to prompt Roman to talk about the movie, but his attention was elsewhere. He kept checking the stairs to see if Logan had come back yet, despite knowing that he would probably be busy for the rest of the day.

Roman slowly nodded, getting up from his chair and heading to the living room. Patton and Virgil followed while Logan grabbed the syrup and left to his room to run some tests.

Virgil couldn’t help but worry about him. Logan had told him that he would figure out a way to cure him and knowing him he’d find an answer in no time, but seeing Roman so… off, really irked him. He was like a lovesick puppy or a middle school dork dealing with their first real crush, all fidgety and constantly looking for ways to talk about the side he had fallen for.

He wanted to feel supportive of him, he really did. It was probably good for Roman to feel so happy, but there was this nagging voice in the back of Virgil's skull that itched away at him.

Roman had said that he felt this before, that he had been in love this whole time. Roman was already in love with someone else, and the potion probably just redirected his affections. The realization sat heavy on Virgil's chest. He couldn’t love Virgil anyway, not when he already loved someone else. Was it Patton? It’d make sense. The two usually got along pretty well, and they definitely had a lot more in common. He absolutely despised Janus, and since it looks like he didn’t feel this way about Logan until this morning it wasn’t him either. It had to be Patton, then.

Well maybe when this is over, he and Patton could be happy together. They’d have picnics and dance together at one of Roman's fancy balls and do all of the sappy things that people do when they’re in love. If Patton loved Roman back, Virgil would be happy for them.

Oh, who was he kidding? He’d be fucking miserable, and then he’d hate himself for being so selfish that he can’t even be happy for his friends. Why did he have to go and catch these stupid feelings for Roman? He didn’t feel the same, they were just too different. Virgil would never be comfortable dancing in a crowded castle with Roman, but that didn’t stop him from dreaming about enjoying a concert with him. Not like that would ever happen, especially not now.

“What’s on your mind, Virgil?” Patton asked from his spot on the couch.

Virgil looked up in surprise. He hadn’t even realized how quiet he’d become, absently chewing his nails while his mind ran itself in circles over something that couldn’t be helped.

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing. I guess I zoned out,” he said.

“Now I get it that you’re probably worried about Roman, but Logan is figuring it out right now. He’ll be okay, we just gotta hold on for a bit and then everything will be back to normal in no time.”

Roman perked back up at the mention of Logan's name. “Do you think he’ll be joining us for the next movie?” he asked. “We could play one of his favorite shows, and I won’t interrupt or talk over it if he doesn’t want. As long as he’s here with me, that’s all that really matters right now.”

Virgil felt restless. He couldn’t just keep listening to Roman ramble on about someone he thought he loved right next to the person he was actually in love with and the person he could never love back. It hurt too much. He got up from the couch and made his way upstairs.

“I’ll go check in on him,” he said. “He’s probably still pretty busy, though.”

“Can I go with you?” Roman called after him, already getting up to follow. “I want to see him, too. I miss him, and I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Well, we can’t all go,” Virgil replied, stopping and turning to face Roman.

“Then you can stay and watch the movie and I’ll go check on Logan,” he offered.

Virgil wanted to argue, but it was clear that Roman wasn’t going to back down. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Just don’t be gone too long. He still needs to work.”

He moved back to the couch while Roman all but raced upstairs in search of Logan. Virgil sat back down with Patton and tried to keep watching the movie.

“What’s bothering you, kiddo?” Patton asked him, voice gentle and reassuring.

Virgil let out a dry chuckle at being read so easily. “Is it that obvious?”

“Well, while you aren’t usually talkative, you seem a lot quieter today. Is it about Roman?”

Virgil couldn’t do much more than nod, keeping his gaze focused on his hands instead of Patton. “I want him to be okay,” he admitted.

“Oh, sweetie, he’s fine. Everything’s going to be okay, you’ll see.”

Virgil could only hope so, but even if they could cure Roman, there was still the matter of what he would do about the love he felt. And who he felt it to.

“Patton, do you like Roman?” he hesitantly asked, unsure how he wanted him to answer.

“Well, of course I do, kiddo. I like Roman just as much as I like you and Logan and everyone else. He’s a part of this family, and so are you,” he said with a wide, if slightly stressed, smile.

“That’s not what I meant,” Virgil clarified. “I mean, do you like him? Like, the way he says he likes Logan right now? Do you have feelings for him?”

Patton looked like a deer in headlights, to the point that Virgil could practically see the blue-screen flash across his forehead. He blinked rapidly, wrapping his brain around the question.

“Well, no, not really. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of way towards anyone before, but I know I definitely don’t feel that way about Roman. Why are you asking me that?”

Virgil swallowed, processing what Patton had said. “Nothing, I was just curious I guess.”

He didn’t say anything after that, and Patton thankfully didn’t try to ask him about it either. If Patton didn’t like Roman back, then how would that change things? Surely Roman would eventually try to ask him out after he was cured, and when Patton rejected him he could be heartbroken. Virgil almost wanted to tell Roman now, when it wouldn’t hurt him that much, but it probably wasn’t the best time. He may not remember it after anyway. Maybe he’ll tell him later and hope for the best.

The credits finished rolling and Roman still hadn’t returned. It wasn’t too surprising, all things considered, since Roman had been practically vibrating in his seat without Logan around for him to stare at and compliment. He was probably bothering Logan right now and stopping him from getting anything done. It was best to get Roman away before he smothered him.

“I’m gonna go get Roman, you pick the next movie,” Virgil said as he headed back up the stairs. Patton nodded and started rifling through the DVDs, probably picking another cartoon.

Virgil finally reached Logan's door and knocked, not having to wait long before he heard a familiar and monotone “Come in” in response.

He opened the door and almost had to do a double take.

Roman had his back to the door, arms wrapped tightly around Logan in a warm and supporting hug. Logan was looking at Virgil from over his shoulder with a face of sheer exasperation, arms stiffly planted on Roman's back in a half-hearted attempt at a reciprocal embrace.

“Did you need something Virgil, or are you here for Roman?” he nonchalantly asked, as if he weren’t currently being held tightly by the romantic side.

“I, uh... I was coming to see why he was gone so long. I figured he might be distracting you from working,” he stuttered out, struggling to regain his bearings at the odd sight.

“Well, he has certainly occupied my attention for longer than I had hoped, though I doubt it could be helped. He seemed quite upset at being away from me for as long as he was. Another side effect of the potion, I’d gather,” he answered, finally untangling himself from Roman.

Roman let out a desperate whine at the loss of contact, looking back at Logan with a hurt expression. “I’m sorry, specs. I just couldn’t stand to be away from you for so long. Without you everything was just so dull and cold, I simply had to be around you again.”

“That’s very sweet, but I need to work. If you would prefer it, I can try to move some of my things to the living room and work there, but you will need to let me focus. Can you do that?”

Roman nodded eagerly in response.

“Good, then please go and get the common room set up for me downstairs and I will join you there shortly,” Logan said, and Roman practically tripped over his own feet as he headed back down the hall, glancing back at Logan and smiling the whole time.

Logan sighed and sat back down in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. He really looked exhausted, and Virgil wondered whether he should stay or leave him be.

“The answer is no, by the way,” Logan groaned, not looking up at him.

“What?”

“No, I haven’t been able to find any cure or antidote to the potion. Remus may very well be trying to fool me, a figurative ‘wild goose chase’, if you will.”

Virgil tried not to look too worried, though he was sure it was obvious anyway. “Okay, do you think I can go and try to get some answers out of him? I could help out, maybe.”

Logan finally glanced up at him, a tired smile on his face. “I’d appreciate that, Virgil. As long as we can restore Roman to his natural, albeit obnoxious, state of mind.”

Virgil nodded, desperate to make this whole nightmare go away. It looked like Logan was feeling pretty fed up with this whole thing, too. Though it was probably for a different reason.

Logan sighed again, glancing away for a moment as if lost in thought. “I can’t exactly say I’ll enjoy that part of our lives returning to normal, though. As overbearing as he can be right now, it is still somewhat pleasant to hear him say something nice about me for a change. Even if he doesn’t really mean it or know what he’s saying at all.” He smiled to himself, as if he had forgotten that Virgil was still in the room with him. When he finally remembered that he wasn’t alone in the room, he straightened up in his chair and started to gather what he would need downstairs.

“It doesn’t really matter, anyway,” he added in a rush. “Roman is not in his right mind at the moment, it is best not to take anything he is saying seriously. He’s allowed to say or feel whatever he wants about me after we cure him. He’s his own person, with his own opinions on the people he’s around, and this will not change any of that.” He herded Virgil out of his room while he carried an armload of supplies and notes, carefully returning to the living room without dropping his things. “If you get any information out of Janus or Remus, let me know.” He called back at him as he left.

Virgil stayed there in the hall, taking in all that Logan had said. Had Roman really been upsetting him this whole time? Seeing him like this must be unreal to him, finally hearing a compliment from the person who teased him daily, only to know that the flattery was fake? He couldn’t imagine how badly that must hurt for him.

He shivered slightly to himself before going to Janus’ room. What happened between them still hurt years later, but he at least knew how to deal with him. He had dealt with him long enough to recognize the lies from the truth, and he needed answers.

He banged loudly on the door, not letting up until it was finally opened. By Remus, who was in the room with Janus. Great.

“Geez, Virge, the hell is your problem,” he whined. “Did someone swap the stick up your butt with a scorpion or something?”

Janus chuckled from behind him.

“The real question is what the hell is your problem,” he growled. “Why’d you go and do that to Roman, huh? Is this just some sick joke to you?”

“Well, yeah,” he answered, almost proud of himself. “I didn’t plan for it to be Roman that took the potion though, it was all random so whoever had some syrup first would get fucked up.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. It was pretty clear he wouldn’t get a reason out of him. The best he could hope to get would be a cure, or the answer to how to make one.

“Can you just fucking tell me how to get him back to normal?” he pleaded, wincing at the pathetic begging he had reduced himself to. “There’s got to be a cure or antidote or something, and you have to tell me what it is so I can help clean up the mess you started.”

Remus stared right through him, smiling to himself as he kept the answer hidden.

“Alright, Remus, that’s enough,” Janus interrupted, finally joining them and including himself in the standoff. “If he wants the cure so badly, we’ll give it to him.”

Virgil’s shoulders sagged with relief. Maybe now Janus would actually be willing to cooperate and stop playing around with him.

“You see, Virgil, I know the true answer is something you’ll love, so here it is: the solution has been hiding in plain sight all along. It’s been kept secret by the only person who can help him. Show it to him and he’ll remember what the real target of his affection is supposed to be.”

Ok, so maybe not.

“What the hell does that mean?” Virgil groaned in frustration.

“You’ll have to figure it out on your own. After all, I think you already know the answer.”

Janus gave him one last smirk before closing the door on him, the sound of Remus’ laughter echoing from behind it. Well, that didn’t help him at all. What did he mean about it hiding in plain sight? Who was hiding it? And show what to who? Janus said he’d love the truth, but this was just another confusing riddle. It didn’t even make any sense. His best guess was that Remus had hidden an antidote somewhere, but if that was the case then there was no way he’d be able to find it.

God, Roman was screwed.

Virgil stomped back to the couch in a huff, not returning Patton’s friendly wave. He sat down and ran his hands through his hair, desperately trying to make sense of what Janus had said.

“I’m guessing you were unsuccessful,” Logan stated.

Virgil looked over to him and his reply died on his tongue in an instant. Logan was sitting in Roman’s lap, focusing on his findings ever so stoically while Roman held him close with a sappy expression.

“Uhm, not really… sorry, why are you in his lap?” he asked.

Logan looked up at him, no more pleased about the situation than Virgil was. “It was the only way to keep him happy while I focused on my work instead of him,” he explained.

“Hey, that’s not true,” Roman chimed in, squeezing Logan tighter. “I said that you were fine sitting where you were, but when you offered to get all cozy with me I wasn’t gonna complain.”

“Right, because you were complaining before,” Logan replied, “in fact, you were so upset that I wasn’t paying attention to you that you kept trying to sit closer to me until being in your lap like this was inevitable. At least now you’re letting me work uninterrupted.”

Roman looked like he was about to say something in his defense, but he decided against it. He quietly tucked his head into Logan's shoulder instead, humming at the contact.

Logan glanced back at Virgil, avoiding moving his head too much to not disrupt Roman. “Did either of them tell you anything useful?” he asked.

Virgil shook his head. “If he did, I can’t make any sense of it. It was something about the answer hiding in plain sight, and that the only one who’ll help him knows the secret. He said if we show it to him then he’ll remember what he really feels, or something like that.”

Logan sighed. “Well, that was hardly helpful.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Virgil. Roman was practically glued to Logan's side, flirting and cuddling with him every chance he got. Patton tried to pretend everything was normal, and Virgil kept replaying what Janus had told him. The cure is hidden away, and one of the sides knows how to use it to help. The only thing is, who the hell is it? Janus and Remus obviously weren’t helping, and Patton and Logan were just as in the dark about it as Virgil was.

“I thought the same thing,” he replied.

Patton made dinner and as everyone ate it became obvious that unless they did something about Roman he was going to be like this for a while. It took Logan moving to sit on the other end of the table for Roman to stop trying to do some Lady and the Tramp bit with him.

Logan had no solutions or cures yet, and Virgil still couldn’t figure out the answer to the riddle that Janus had told him. Janus and Remus decided to stick around after dinner and joined the others for a movie night, presumably just to laugh at how Roman was acting. Roman chased them off halfway through the movie, accusing them of antagonizing Logan. They were actually laughing at how Roman was behaving, but Virgil still appreciated having them gone for the night.

It was now well past time for Virgil to go to bed, but he couldn’t get himself to move from the couch. Everyone else had gone to bed by now, save for Logan and Roman, as the former had still wanted to find a solution and the latter refused to go to bed until he did. Roman was still pressed to Logan's side, idly playing with his hair while he continued to gaze fondly at him as if he had hung the stars in the night sky. Virgil wondered if he looked at Roman like that. He secretly wished Roman would look at him like that. Sometimes he almost thought he did.

It was probably best for him to go to bed before he thought about that too much. He wished the other two goodnight before heading to his room, where he would at least try to pretend to sleep. He closed the door behind him and prepared to wind down for the night when his eyes fell upon the gift Roman had given him. Lightning in a bottle, proof that Roman enjoyed his company.

Virgil stared at the bottle, memories of his time with Roman flashing back to him. Smiles only he would see, countless hours spent in each other’s company, presents and promises shared in private. Roman had shown him the same kindness and care that he is showing Logan now. The way he smiled at Logan was the same as how he smiled and laughed when he was alone with Virgil. The compliments and encouragement were just like the same sweet words they had shared.

That couldn’t be right, he had to be mistaken. That would mean that Roman actually…

He grabbed the bottle and sprinted back to the living room, back to Roman.

Logan looked up at him in surprise when he made it back downstairs, but Virgil didn’t give him a chance to say anything. He had to take care of this before he could overthink it.

“Logan, can you please give me a minute to talk to Roman? Alone?”

Logan quirked an eyebrow, before extricating himself from Roman and wordlessly making his way to bed for the night. Roman was about to follow him, but Logan motioned for him to stay behind. He obeyed, though he looked pained by doing so.

“Virgil, what’s going on?” he asked after Logan left. “Why’d you tell him to leave like that?”

“This is important, okay?” Virgil started. He had no idea what he was doing, or how to do it, but he had to try. He took a seat on the couch next to Roman and held out the bottle. “Do you remember what this is?” he asked.

Roman eyed it curiously, confusion slowly turning into recognition as his eyes brightened up at the memory. “Yeah, that’s right. You went and said you had better luck catching lightning in a bottle than finding someone who liked you, and I wanted to prove a point.”

“And what point was that?”

Roman blinked for a second as he tried to piece it together. “I remember how I wanted to show you that there are people out there that like being around you.”

“Like who?” he prodded, trying to get Roman to verbalize the answer he couldn’t bring himself to admit. “Roman, are you saying that this was because you like me?”

Roman furrowed his brow, as if struggling with some internal conflict. “I know I think highly of you, but it all feels hazy. I can’t put it to words right without losing what I was thinking about. Then I just start thinking of Logan again,” he said, a smile returning to his face at the name.

Virgil stared at him, pieces falling into place at last. “Roman, was it love? Is that what you felt for me? What you have been feeling for me?” he asked, voice stifled with emotion.

Roman looked lost as countless emotions dancing across his face. After a beat he finally answered, voice low. “I think so. It feels right, even though it’s still foggy. But I do think it was love.”

The butterflies returned to Virgil’s stomach with a vengeance, stealing his breath and choking him. He felt electrified and lightweight and breathless and alive all at once, leaving him little room left for rational thought. Roman loved him. He was in love with him.

“I’m in love with you too,” he managed to whisper, confessing it like it was a prayer.

All at once the potions foggy haze in Roman's eyes lifted, swiftly replaced by a hopeful disbelief. A grin slowly formed on his face, that same lovestruck look that he had given Logan in the kitchen. Only now it was being directed at Virgil.

“Virgil… you love me? You actually love me back?”

Virgil didn’t trust himself to speak, only nodding in confirmation.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear that,” he said with a breathless laugh.

He pulled Virgil into a tight embrace, hugging him fiercely as Virgil felt his heart skip a beat. Roman loved him back, he loved him and the potion had been cured because of it.

For once Virgil felt completely optimistic, and he knew he wouldn’t be alone anymore.

@britt-ish123 @lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie @keitaisghost @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @nico-the-overlord @rougeside4 @new-zee-land @can-i-take-a-stab

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #my fic #i hope this is good

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sweet-lost-husbands · 1 year

Text

Seek Forgiveness

Prompt from @marchtothefuckingsea: you all like the trope of character being so delirious from their injuries that they don't realize someone on their team trying to help them, so they fight back, but I offer you: Character, delirious, weakly fighting someone trying to help them, but they finally recognize who it is and they fight even harder.

Hurt/Comfort

I absolutely loved writing this! Hopefully you enjoy reading this, please feel free to give any advice as well.

Word count: 3k on the dot 🫠🫠

Summary: Reader gets hurt on a hunt and she is forced to rely on someone who has hurt her in the past, to save her life.

Warnings: Serious injury, blood, broken bones, extreme gore, restraints, potions, accidental torture?? but only to save her. Reader is scared of Castiel.

No usage of y/n.

Italics are the character's thoughts

It was a simple mistake- and yet an unforgivable one. That was the irony to it.

I limp forward, slowly catching my breath as I walk. I hold my cold hand against my abdomen, Warm blood leaking through the gaps in my fingers and the fabric of my clothes, coating my body like a blanket as gravity beckons it down. I know I needed to put more pressure, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

I take another sharp painful step, when something crashes into my side, and I'm thrown to the unforgiving floor. I hear the snaps before I feel the hot pain that explodes in my ribs. My lungs gasp for a single breath of air but it seems to fall short.

I have been in this situation once before; it gives me back memories I try deeply to forget.

Then something is on me, clawing at my flesh. I recognise that smell anywhere, the blood thirst- the unholiness. A vamp.

I fumble with the machete, begging my numb fingers to work. My heart pounds in my chest and ricochets of skull, so loud that I plead for moment of silence.

My fingers grip around the handle and gain just enough leverage to sever its head with one flick of the wrist.

I collapse backwards, coughing and spluttering as the world spins and blurs. An all too familiar metallic taste erodes my mouth. All my limbs ache with exhaustion. My eyelids feel heavy, and my mind begins to drift into unknown places.

I almost reach the blissful darkness when an agonising burst of pain brings me back. I scream, thrashing against the sudden pressure on my abdomen. My muscles tense and I arch upward, whimpering as the force increases.

Take it away take it away takeitaway

Water brims in my eyes; I twist my hands up and latch around the unknown arm, in a weak attempt to pry it off. My vision smudges and I can't see their face. They take the moment to increase the pressure even more, so that now I'm sure they are pushing their whole weight against it. I let out a strangled cry and can’t stop from writhing beneath them.

Stop it, pleaseee

“Shhhh, I know it hurts.”

I barely make out the words because they are clouded by a layer of fog. Briefly, a feeling of warmth floats over my forehead, then disappears again, followed by some faint muttering.

“Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone.” I pant, continuing to push at his arms, anything to get away. When all fails, I start to turn in on myself, but he manages to keep me in place.

Please

“Hey, easy, easy, don’t move!”

I can’t.

One hand continues to put too much pressure on the wound while the other starts skimming over my skin, looking for injuries before coming to rest on my shoulder.

“Oh god, your cold. We have to get you out of here.”

Before I can protest, he pulls me into sitting and drapes my arm over his shoulder to support my weight. I let out a weak sob at the movement, doing what little I can to resist. A moment later, I am hoisted up.

It starts with a few steps, but my side screams at me, and I try to double over and lay back on the ground.

“Crap.” I hear him say, as he repositions my arm to keep me standing.

He reaches under my knees and across my back and pulls me into his chest. I weakly shove at it, squirming from the shift in my ribs.

No no no no

“I know, I know.” He says something more, but I don’t mange to make it out.

The next few minutes go by slowly. Each step moves me, and I can't do anything to stop it. At some point my eyes flutter shut. Yes, darkness. But a sharp pain blossoms as he purposely jolts me awake.

I gasp, once again trying to free myself but he only tightens his grip.

“Stay with me. Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

“No....”

“Yes.” His voice is firm like an order. “Yes, and if you don’t, then I'm going to have to force you back again. And you don’t want that do you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Eventually I feel him ease his arms that secure me and delicately place me down on something soft. Hopefully a bed but I'm too tired to care. Where am I?

Hands glide over my face and cup it. I try to wave them away, but they don’t budge. A blurry figure is pulled into my eyesight and just for a second, I am able to focus enough to recognise the face. Cas.

Damn it, I should have realised earlier. Not him. Anyone but him. He’s going to hurt me again.

Suddenly I pull every tendril of remaining energy from my body to fight his grasp and propel myself away. The cool floor meets my face and I scramble weakly along it. Whimpering and curling up in a ball, tears adding to the already blood-soaked floor as my limbs finally give out. I’m aware that I'm shivering but its only when I look ahead and see a mirror, do I realise how pale I actually am.

A finger taps my shoulder, and I can sense his presence next to me.

Please don’t hurt me

“Go away!” My voice strains.

“You know I can’t do that.” He brushes a stray strand of hair from my face and forces our eyes to meet. It almost catches me off guard; I see something there that I have never seen before. Pleading.

Why?

“Don’t you dare.” I whisper but he ignores me and tries to slide his fingers to the hem of my shirt. I bat his hands away once more.

“Stop fighting me!” His head is tilted in pure concern.

Why does he care, why is he different?

I start to mumble a response, but a coughing fit quickly wracks my torso. Cas acts quickly, bringing my head up to rest on his lap until it subsides. From there, he lifts me onto the bed and lays me out flat, which I instinctively start to curl.

“I can’t heal you but let me help.”

“No, g’t aw’y fr’m me. Anyth’ng b’t your help.” I slur.

“Okay.” His voice is laced with remorse and heartbreak. “Then you leave me no choice.”

First, he grasps my arm and gently tugs it away from me, securing it with rope; the next is my other hand and then both my legs, until I am fully outstretched. I almost can’t stand it; the pain intensifies. I feebly yank on the restraints, trying to get free myself, but they are unyielding.

I only notice that Cas had left the room when he returns, holding a med kit. He sets it down on the bed-side table and starts taking things out and positioning them in a certain way. “I’m sorry but I’ve already caused you enough pain and if you die and I had a chance to save you......” He trails off. “I won't be able to forgive myself.”

He pauses, taking out a wad of gauze and a bottle of alcohol.

In the haze, I almost miss the stray tear making its way down his cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You d’d.” I rasp, narrowing my vision on what he is doing, with an expression of horror on my face. Don’t put me through more pain, just let me go, why can't he let me go? Surely, he can see that I don’t want this. Surely.

I pull at the restraints again.

“I know.” He purposely hides his face so I can’t see the sadness in his eyes, “And yes, while it may have been true that I was under a spell and couldn’t help it; I am sorry. I will do anything to make up to you, but first let me help.”

Nothing manages to leave my throat as he turns back to me. Was that true? Was it not his fault? I feel the blood drain from my face. Last time he had tortured me and left me for dead, I was lucky that Dean made it to me in time. After that I became a hunter to stop things like what happened to me. But maybe Cas wasn’t a monster- not anymore.

“Stay still.” He says and gives me a sad smile; like he hates what he is about to do. I feel his gentle fingers at the hem of my crimson-soaked shirt, and he carefully lifts it up.

He grabs a few things. “This will hurt...... I am truly sorry.”

There is a slap of elastic gloves being put on and then he nears. I feel as he places one hand a couple of inches above the wound, which I realise is to keep me in place.

The moment the alcohol-soaked gauze skims over my tender skin, I screech, lashing out, fighting the rope bound around me. It burns like my whole abdomen is lit aflame.

Can’t get free can’t get free cantgetfree

My body trembles as Castiel begins to push it in further to clean it. I struggle against him, pushing back into the bed as much as I can, but it doesn’t help. Nothing stops him from taking his time to thoroughly sterilise it. I jerk at every movement of the gauze- back and forth, pushing in the skin, not failing to get right into the corner. Each inch forcing it way through my tender flesh. I cry from the pain, still tugging at the restraints and recoiling against Cas’s hands, completely helpless to free myself.

“Easy, easy, almost done.” He says as he wipes the wound one last time and pulls away.

Sweat trickles down my forehead and I visually relax, panting.

“I’m sorry but that had to be done.” He says over his shoulder as he fiddles with something else in the med kit. “Dean and Sam will be here by tomorrow evening, but you’ll bleed out long before they get here; I'm going to have to stitch it.”

“Nooooo pleaseeee.” I whine.

He lays a comforting hand on my shoulder and starts rubbing soothing circles. “Trust me, I don’t want to do this either. I would give anything not to have to hurt you again.” The way his words quiver like there is a lump in his throat, sells the line.

He waits a little longer and then lets my shoulder go and brings the needle and thread to the bed-side table.

“C-cold.” I stutter.

“I’ll get you a blanket once this is done.”

Castiel places the same hand on my chest again but this time, he applies a little more pressure. “Don’t move if you can help it, it could cause me to stitch all wonky. I know this isn’t ideal, but we can’t waste any more time. Please forgive me.”

I flinch the first time the needle pricks my pale skin, then still. I stifle my groan which soon turns into a quiet sob as he continues relentlessly. I am barely aware of him muttering hush apologies to me at every groan, cry and beg.

The pain expands though my side with each new stitch, constantly lingering. I try to focus on the ceiling, but it doesn’t distract much, since there is no way to not feel the movement of the needle. God I hate needles.

"Stop tensing the area I'm trying to stitch." Cas orders and clamps his hand down a little more.

“Yeah, well if you, AAGH.” He hits the spot which is the deepest and it causes me to jump.

“I told you to stop moving!”

I nod and clench my hands until the knuckles are white, to stop myself from wriggling.

“You know,” He starts his next stitch and pinches the skin together, ignoring my wince. “You are quite remarkable; a thousand others would’ve passed out long before this step.” He threads it through and ties it.

My skin is so tight around the wound, and it feels like a white-hot sting that won’t go away.

“Holy Shit!” I swear, as a sudden burning rushes through the wound. He puts the alcohol on the table and gives be an apologetic smile. "You could have warned for that."

He shrugs. "Sam says it’s better without a warning."

I whimper as he places a large bandage over the top and starts clearing everything away.

“It’s done for the time being.” He comforts, and lightly kisses me on the forehead. “You can sleep now.”

I feel my head finally lull to the side and I allow myself to drift off.

When I open my eyes, my head throbs and the world spins. I see Cas and for an instant my mind takes me right back to when he was a monster, and I bolt up.

He rushes to my side and to pushes me down with his angel strength.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me. Slow down.”

I relax in his arms once I realise.

“There.” He soothes, shifting so that I am lying flat, but his voice soon turns serious. “Stunts like that could tear your stitches.” He peels the bandage back and takes a look. “But thankfully it hasn’t.”

He pulls the blanket back over me and carefully holds a glass of water to my lips. “Slow.” He says and tilts it a little.

I hadn’t realised how thirsty I was and start to lap it up. He pulls away and I chase after it, but he continues to hold my clamp down on my shoulder with one hand.

“Slow.” He repeats and brings the cup back. I do what as he says until it's gone.

I wiggle my feet enough to find that he must have taken the restraints off while I was out.

He takes a seat next to the bed and squeezes my hand. It's so warm.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I've been stabbed.”

Cas smiles. “How do you really feel?”

I sigh. “Tired, everything hurts.”

“I’d assume that’s normal considering what you’ve been through.” He tilts his head towards my ribs. “When you're ready, I need to take a look, okay?”

I swallow thickly. “Okay.” I chastise myself at how the words break in my throat, I know he's only trying to help.

A shudder escapes my lips as Cas’s warm fingers skim over my ribs. I hold back a choked cry as he presses into them, testing the bones. By the time he finishes, I am as far away from him as the bed allows.

“A couple are broken; I'll go get you an icepack.”

When he re-enters and positions the icepack over my sides, his face has saddened like he isn’t telling me something.

“What is it?” I ask.

He doesn’t hold back. “There’s been a slight delay with Sam and Dean, they won’t be here for a few more days. We are in a small cabin out in the woods, it's not safe here. The vampire's that did this to you could be back with the rest of the nest.”

“Oh.” I manage to say.

He wipes a finger over my face to stop the tears. “We need to leave but we can’t do that with the condition you're in now. And I can’t heal you because they used a blade warded against angels.”

“So, what do we do?” I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

“You know I don’t want to put you in more pain than I have to.” I can feel him shaking now; he's scared.

“Cas.” My tone is slightly louder than I wanted.

There's a pause. He readjusts his trench coat like its uncomfortable. “There may be a healing spell that could help but I'm told that the procedure will be...... unpleasant, to say the least.”

His whole face screams regret but I surprise him with my answer. “Do it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah..... I trust you.”

“Okay.” Cas says, more to himself than me. He places the neon purple potion on the table and undoes his belt. “Open,” he commands, “It should help with the pain.”

I reluctantly take in the leather and bite down.

“I have to restrain you now. If you mess with the potion even a little, it could prove faulty and there is no way in hell, I'm putting you through this twice.”

I give a slight nod and he starts tying my limbs with rope. I get more scared by the second, I can already hear the rhythmic beat of my heart. This time he also adds some rope over my thighs and chest so I can move even less than before.

Once he’s finished, he fetches the potion and hovers over me.

“If you have somewhere you find soothing, go there in your mind.”

Then he begins, first removing the bandage to expose the wound then pours it in.

A blazing burst of pain explodes through my body, everything feels like it's on fire. Then his hands are on me, rubbing it as deep into the wound as possible while I strain and fight to get away from the hands that are hurting me. He manages to shove it through the gaps in the stitches so it can travel deeper. I scream and cry around the belt, every muscle tensed so much that it cramps. I can feel as every rib welds itself together and every cell in the wound presses until it's all combined.

When all the pain finally simmers, relief washes over me. Cas whispers comforting words and praise as he undoes the restraints and pulls me into a hug. I am too weak to resist the movement, but I don’t want to, its sweet and warm. He saved me.

“You did so well,” He soothes. “I am so proud of you. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I answer simply, “I am now, and I forgive you.”

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sitp-recs · 2 years

Note

Ok based on your post, do you have an “oh. Oh.” rec list???? Absolutely love that trope (if it counts as a trope hahahah)

Hello anon! Gosh, I wish my memory was good enough to remember fics that actually include the italicized oh 🤌🏼 the best I can do is rec fics with feels epiphany/moment of realization, I hope that’s ok? I’m probably forgetting a bunch but these came to mind:

Still Life, orphaned (M, 3k)

Hourglass Heart by @bixgirl1 (E, 5k)

It only happened once — depending on how Harry counted.

Closer by @pennygalleon (M, 5k)

All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.

the keys to your kingdom by thistle_verse (E, 7.5k)

It was nothing so elegant as fucking, the first time they came together. It was teeth just a little too sharp— against a collarbone, on the right-side curve of a jaw, drawing blood from the plushest part of a bottom lip.

Clear As Mud by scoradh (M, 10k)

Set post-war and post-Harry's-conscience...

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k)

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k) - this one actually has the oh!!!

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Friends? Is That What We Are? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 33k)

What the hell is Harry even supposed to do when he finally realises that he loves Draco? He's an idiot and it takes him a while but he gets there. They get there.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (E, 36k)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 (T, 38k)

Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends.

Here's The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (M, 49k)

Harry thinks "Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?" is a much simpler question than, "Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don't, what will you do?"

Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

We Are Young (I'll Carry You Home Tonight) by Femme (E, 68k)

Harry and Draco have been falling into bed on and off again since the last election five years ago, much to the amusement--and financial gain--of their circle of friends.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by nerakrose (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #italicized oh #feelings realization

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galactic-pirates · 6 months

Text

Romance Tropes Bracket

@purlturtle is doing this really cool thing and they said I could ramble about it too! And how could I resist talking story? Do you know me? Hahaha.

Anyway they made this spreadsheet and screenshot and you can check them out on their post (clicky here).

So in the BLUE CORNER

Bodyguard vs Love Triangle

Workplace vs High School

Second Chances vs. Made A Bet (90s style)

Sibling's Best Friend vs Nanny/Governess

Rocking that RED we have

Grumpy/Sunshine vs Someone Else's SO

Accidental Pregnancy vs Just To Get It Out Of Our Systems

Family Feud (Romeo&Juliet style) vs Holiday Romance

Billionaire vs Soulmates

The sun shines down on YELLOW

Mistaken Identity vs Age Gap

Love Potion/Aphrodisiac vs Only One Bed

Amnesia vs Kissing Lessons

Forced Proximity (road trip etc.) vs Secretly a celeb/royal

Aaaaaand finally working that GREEN

Marriage of Convenience vs Fake Dating

Snowed In vs Friends To Lovers

Bad Boy/Girl vs Sworn Off Love

Supernatural (vampires etc.) vs Enemies To Lovers

Under the cut for my picks and rambles!

Bodyguard vs Love Triangle I don't do Love Triangle, either pick one and then let everyone move on or all be together as a trio. My very first real 'ship' had a sort of love triangle (the lady dated one guy, then the other, then back to the first etc.) but I only shipped her with the first guy (it was Jack Malone and Sam Spade from Without a Trace). So the whole 'love triangle' aspect was lost on me as I just did not care.

Bodyguard though... that has serious potential. So much so I have some vague concepts for an original novel trilogy based around it. Bodyguard is sort of what Eve Baird does on the Librarians (Guardian) but also not. I mean it can depend a little bit. I like the whole protective part to a point, but not if it takes the protectees agency away. I'm not fond of 'damsel', I would rather they kick butt together.

WINNER: Bodyguard

Workplace vs High School This one is super easy - has to be Workplace because High School = kids. I have no interest in teenagers. Teachers maybe but that would be a workplace. Even when I was a kid I didn't write about kids. I skipped the whole YA thing completely.

WINNER: Workplace

Second Chances vs. Made a Bet (90's Style) I had to ask what 'Made a Bet' was because I didn't know. @purlturtle suggested it was like a '10 things I hate about you' thing, where they date on a bet and then catch real feelings. Now catching feels - that's cool, but the whole bet thing? I don't know...

I did write a fic prompt once where they were in a bar and two characters were challenging each other to see who could pull the guy they picked out. I suppose that's ok as a concept. I didn't develop it so it clearly didn't grab me that much though.

Second Chances though - this I like. I mean I suppose there's the whole "if it didn't work out before, why would it work now?" question, as in their relationship failed for a reason. But maybe that's because they needed to work on themselves. Sometimes people are just idiots and make assumptions and don't communicate properly. I'm actually writing a serial at the moment with a second chance romance in it (divorced ex-wives have to work together). So this does grab me.

WINNER: Second Chances

Sibling's Best Friend vs Nanny/Governess Got to be honest neither of these jump out at me as being something I'm really drawn to. Although I am sniggering a little bit as I think Nanny/Governess is a favourite of Janeway's (wasn't that her preferred holonovel?). So I'm tempted to vote for Janeway but ehhh. It has a bit of a power dynamic vibe I don't like.

Sibling's Best Friend is very... cute I guess. I don't really have much to say about it to be honest. I'm going to make it win on default but meh.

WINNER: Sibling's Best Friend

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

Mistaken Identity vs Age Gap I have written Age Gap - obviously, as I wrote a hell of a lot of Rumbelle (Rumple and Belle, Once Upon a Time) back in the day. Only... I got to be honest I never really saw it as an age gap thing. It totally was and by a LOT because Rumple was semi-immortal as the dark one. He was a couple of centuries old when they met but... age gap romances usually make me uncomfortable because of the inherent power dynamic. Rumple had so little self-confidence that just wasn't an issue.

Mistaken Identity - "do you let them hate the real you, or love the fake you" - HELL YES! Quote from Sophie Devereaux there and the espionage/heist fan in me is compelled. Also superheroes I guess ala Supercorp. Give me all the stories about masks people wear and just wanting to be loved for who they really are.

WINNER: Mistaken Identity

Love Potion/Aphrodisiac vs Only One Bed *cough* show me a person who wasn't read a few sex pollen fics in their time in fandom, and I'll show you a liar. I jest, I jest but also not really. It's not a bad setup for a PWP so long as consent is clearly established and we know before they are under the influence that they are into one another. I suppose there could be a fair bit of plot in terms of consequences but I have no wish personally to write about consent issues.

Only One Bed though - CLASSIC! I mean it's iconic. It's two people pining like idiots, putting up pillow walls between them, the inevitable cuddling in the night and then awkward aroused awakenings. I wrote this in my Conspiracy Afloat fanfic and I'm sure I'll write it again. It's the classic and you can't go wrong with a classic.

WINNER: Only One Bed

Amnesia vs Kissing Lessons Kissing Lessons? This is a new one on me but not hard to figure out. It feels quite juvenile, like maybe a good match for the teenagers in High School?

Amnesia though - oh yes! I don't know if I first loved this trope when I saw the Harrison Ford movie Regarding Henry, or if I saw the trope elsewhere first, but it's very good. The "I'm sorry who are you?" "I'm your wife" and not remembering, having to fall in love again. The agony of the lost shared memories, of not recalling the life they had together, of making new memories. Hell yeah!

WINNER: Amnesia

Forced Proximity (road trip etc.) vs Secretly a celeb/royal Forced Proximity has it's place as a supplement. Like I talked earlier about the Second Chance divorced exes who had to work together. They are getting that Second Chance because of the forced proximity. As a trope on it's own though? Ehhh.

The Secretly a Celeb/Royal... depends if you can expand that. I have long loved the idea of some super rich person being incognito because 'Rich people wear expensive clothes and drive posh cars and go fancy places' and so seeing Joe or Jane Regular, they think 'oh you look like X' rather than thinking they are actually X. I planned out a Rumbelle fic to this premise that I never wrote, but I swear I will write this someway, someday. It partly goes back to the Mistaken Identity and masks, and do they love the real you. With money, meeting someone and them not knowing you are rich is perhaps one of the few ways to be sure about that. But at what point do you tell the truth? The longer it goes on the more feelings of betrayal there are - very similar trope really. Now obviously royal is a whole thing on it's own but put the 'secretly' in front of it and it becomes something else.

WINNER: Secretly a celeb/royal

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

Grumpy/Sunshine vs Someone Else's SO Someone Else's SO sounds like cheating/infidelity and I'm not interested in that. Just pick a side and then be honest about it.

I think Grumpy/Sunshine... I'm trying to think of an example. I suppose perhaps I tend to interpret it more as somebody who is reserved vs. someone who is social. Or possibly someone who is cynical/snarky/sarcastic vs. someone who is optimistic/positive/kind. I have definitely written this and will definitely write more of it. It definitely has it's place but equality works too.

WINNER: Grumpy/Sunshine

Accidental Pregnancy vs Just To Get It Out Of Our Systems Honestly not a fan of either, but definitely not a fan of oops pregnancy. It's just not a conflict I am interested in. It doesn't compel me. To be honest neither does the 'Get it out of our systems' because... well it seems odd. Like if you like one another then why is it a one and done? This wins by default but meh.

WINNER: Just To Get It Out Of Our Systems

Family Feud (Romeo & Juliet style) vs Holiday Romance A feud does have potential, the whole 'forbidden love' aspect. I have written this. I have a daughter of politically powerful parents falling in love with a rebel in my Steampunk AU. That's not a family feud, more of a civil class war thing.

Holiday Romance is pretty cool. The whole 'we really click but there is a time limit on it' thing. I did write this once (a Rushbelle fic). As a standard trope it's not something that interests me that much. Now a romance developing during the holidays as like a mutually pining idiots friends to lovers type thing - that's more what I like. I planned and never wrote 2 Bering and Wells christmas fics. First was a fake dating AU where Myka claims Helena is her girlfriend to shut up her sister only to have to invite Helena for the holidays (I know, it's cliche but fun). The other was canon-divergent off season 3 I guess where Helena rejoined the Warehouse and Myka invited her as a 'friend' for Christmas so she wasn't alone at the B&B. Only there was a mix-up and they went to Myka's parents, who weren't home (at the sisters) and they get snowed in, power cuts (huddling together for warmth), only one bed - basically every trope you can think of and hey - Forced Proximity lol - and it gets them to admit feelings. The holidays can add an intensity but neither of these two were technically holiday romance.

WINNER: Holiday Romance

Billionaire vs Soulmates I wrote Soulmates!! It was a Sanctuary fic (Time Will Tell) and it started off as a thought experiment/self-challenge. I don't like the idea of fate and then everything being happy because you have found your 'one' (or in my OT3 case, two). So I really pushed hard on the 'love is a choice' angle, and that lots of soulmate relationships failed because relationships take work. The 'this could be your future but only if you choose it, only if you work for it'. Made me love it. It was fun to explore how having this ticking timer could affect people's personalities, the development of the relationship (having the certainty could be paradoxically paralysing). What that did to society and prejudices etc.

Now of course Billionaire does sort of go back to what I described earlier with the 'Secret Celeb' trope. Having money is kind of a fantasy and it makes for a fun world. You can have them sail around in a yacht, go skiing and sit by the fire in a wood lodge, private jet travel etc. but I don't know. Apart from the 'do you like me or just my money' conflict, having a ton of money is just like so what? It removes worry about paying bills and buying food and that's awesome, takes those stresses off a relationship, but if you don't have to be a billionaire for that, and that as the sole trope... where's the story?

WINNER: Soulmates

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

Marriage of Convenience vs Fake Dating OH NO YOU DIDN'T?!?! I have to choose? I suppose they are very similar. It's the pretend relationship and then the 'oh no I caught feelings' and that like Only One Bed is a complete classic.

I'm going to go with Fake Dating purely because it's likely to come up more. Although I can think of so many ideas for Marriage of Convenience. They are both so good! They are both winners in my heart.

WINNER: Fake Dating

Snowed In vs Friends To Lovers This is like a situation vs. a dynamic. Snowed In is quite specific. I talked about it earlier with the Bering and Wells christmas fic. It's not something that will happen in a lot of stories because some places don't have snow, or it's not set in winter etc.

Whereas Friends to Lovers is basically everything I write ever. How can people be lovers if they aren't friends? If they don't like one another. Friendship is the foundation. Even when I wrote Enemies to Lovers (Timeless, Flynn and Lucy) there was a loooooong stop off at friends in the middle.

WINNER: Friends to Lovers

Bad Boy/Girl vs Sworn Off Love Ok this feels like an unpopular opinion but if they are actually a 'bad boy/girl' then no, just no. If they are misunderstood, they have a heart of gold etc. then they aren't really 'bad' and so it's just aesthetics or something? Like pretending to be a rebel but not really. I don't get it to be honest.

Sworn Off Love though... so much yes. Think about Helena who didn't want to love, who intended their heart to be frozen, to no longer really beat because it belonged to Christina, their daughter who was gone. But Helena hadn't reckoned on Myka who found a way in anyway, and it was agony, but that love saved the world.

WINNER: Sworn Off Love

Supernatural (vampires etc.) vs Enemies To Lovers Ok my previous mention of Flynn and Lucy aside I really don't go in for Enemies to Lovers. If people are enemies they hate each other - hate is the opposite of love. Yes it's an extreme emotion but I don't get how it works except with a very long stop-off in friends first, and then that feels like not really Enemies to Lovers anymore.

Supernatural though can be fun. I have a long fascination with immortality. One partner living forever and the other one getting older, dying. I hate it, I hate it so much because it hurts, and yet it is compelling. I want to fix it. That's probably it. Carol and Maria from Captain Marvel. Breaks my heart :(

Doesn't just have to be immortality either. I know Harry Potter shouldn't be mentioned today but the Remus and Tonks relationship had potential as a dynamic. Remus as a werewolf saw himself as less than, as not being human - not being WORTHY. It's that kind of self-hate which makes me bond with characters (Rumple had the same thing going on). But the whole I love you, all parts of you, even the monster parts - that acceptance of the flaws. That's good stuff.

WINNER: Supernatural

I will post up the next bracket when @purlturtle does theirs! Though we did pick some different things so their bracket will look different from mine. It's going to be interesting!! :)

#romance tropes bracket #fic tropes #this was seriously fun #also I stayed up an hour past bedtime writing all of this out I was COMPELLED #put a quarter in and I will talk story for hours sorry not sorry

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glowingbadger · 2 years

Note

For the kinks can I request the aphrodisiac one with Lucas and a fem!SO?

This one is especially nice because there's already an in-game aphrodisiac to work with lmao. Thanks, creepy love potions!

Again, the usual CW for the aphrodisiac trope, which tends to get a little dubcon-y

Lucas (RF5) x AFAB Reader

Kink prompt list #44 - Aphrodisiac/sex pollen

NSFW 18+ V

"Are you really sure about this, Lucas?"

He meets you with that dauntless smile, his voice full of easy confidence,

"I should hardly think that some fanciful mortal concoction would prove terribly dangerous to a god's constitution, dearest."

You sigh and shrug. Perhaps you shouldn't have brought him something that would seize his inquisitive mind while he's still technically working. It's been a slow day, hardly a single customer, but you do feel some guilt at presenting such a distraction. You should know your eccentric lover well enough to know he won't be able to let a new experience pass by without investigation and thorough note-taking.

Regardless, he does have a point- his abilities have shocked and impressed you countless times by now. What's the harm, really?

"Alright," you concede, "I'm just saying, I found it in a cave, so..."

You let the sentence drift as Lucas uncorks the purported "love potion." He first gives it a tentative sniff, and raises his eyebrows, his expression one of pleasant surprise. Then, in one long swig, he tilts his head back and swallows the full vial.

He exhales, sets down the bottle on the sales counter beside him, and pauses. Then frowns. No reaction- not yet, anyway.

"Hmm," he raises a hand to his chin, "Nothing... Well, I must say that is a rather disappointing resul-" he stops. His dark eyes grow wide while his brow furrows deeply. Gradually, a pink flush tints his complexion.

"Lucas?" You step forward, placing a concerned hand on his arm. Without a word, he seizes your hand, drawing it from him yet not letting go. Slowly, his gaze scans your body, lingering at a few choice places as he groans your name under his breath. Your face begins to warm, and that warmth rapidly travels down through your center.

"Lucas-" you repeat, stepping closer. He mirrors your step backward, and covers his mouth as he forces his eyes from you.

"Dearest, I..." he grapples with his words, refusing to look at you as he speaks, "I find myself... overcome by some sort of- of... hunger."

The pieces are beginning to fall into place. Lucas had struggled with his own need for food when he first arrived in town, and the more intimate needs between lovers had been even more perplexing to him early on. If this potion has triggered his libido in some way as it would seem, then he's likely feeling hopelessly overwhelmed by the surge of lust.

You near him once more, cradling his face in your hand and allowing him to take in the warmth of your thoughts and feelings, hoping they'll offer him some reassurance. Then, when your lips meet his at last, Lucas shivers. You feel the tremor through his body, and you nearly pull away to check on him- perhaps you had acted too rashly, perhaps this is too much for him? Before you can move however, his hands grab both of your arms, and he kisses you hard, with an untethered passion you've never felt from him before. His tongue thrusts past your lips, he leans against you, his chest rising and falling with heavy, panting breaths.

"Please-" he whispers between kisses, his hands beginning to wander, "I cannot bear it, dearest- I... I need..."

Lucas turns you to face the sales counter, his strong chest pressed to your back. You feel his cock, large and throbbing hard, rutting against the plush swell of your ass. Gloved hands devour every inch of you, cupping your breasts and rolling a hardened nipple between his fingertips until his hunger drives him elsewhere. His caress runs firm down your stomach, trailing along your waist, then finally grabbing at your hips to pull you flush to him.

"Right- right here??" you gasp out in disbelief, and you wonder at first if he even hears you. His lips are hot at the crook of your neck, his breath heavy across your skin. Any thought of "taboo" has clearly abandoned him. Still, he does raise a hand to snap his fingers, and you hear the latch of the shop door click, locking it instantly. Well, that does answer your question anyway.

The unnatural warmth of his body is intoxicating as he reaches around you to undo the front of your pants, then tug them down your hips. You brace your hands on the countertop, and he bends you forward and cups a handful of your ass, spreading you open to take him. Lucas is never this forward with you. Honest, even to a fault, but never this forceful in the pursuit of pleasure, and the new thrill of it has you urgently hot and needy for him. Wordlessly, he presses the tip of his cock to your tight, drooling cunt, already clenching around nothing, longing for him to fill you. Yet with trembling hands, he restrains himself for just a moment.

"Darling, are... are you certain you do not mind-"

"Yes," you breathe out, arching your back and pressing yourself to him, "Do it, Lucas. Let me take care of you."

"Fellow gods have mercy," you hear him whisper, his voice hoarse in his throat. Then, his hips push forward, the thick head of his cock forcing you open around him. You whine his name, willing your legs to keep you upright as his member- somehow even bigger than usual- parts you, grinding into your every tender spot until he's sheathed in you to the hilt. Slowly, he draws out from you, then bucks forward, long and powerful strokes sending shocks of pleasure up your arching spine. Your lips part, hanging open as he pounds into you, his grip at your hips pulling you onto his thrusts. Lucas has never fucked you so hard or so deep before, always so concerned with your comfort, with what a mortal can handle, with taboo. Now, as his massive length stretches you and his tip slams into your core again and again, a single distant thought hovers through the haze of your mind.

You really need to learn the recipe for that love potion.

#lucas rf5 #rune factory #lucas rune factory #lucas x reader #rune factory x reader #rune factory 5 #kink prompts #not sfw #rune factory smut

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samstree · 3 years

Note

For the reverse trope ask: the soft character comforting the tough character after a trauma

Piece Him Back Together

Part of the reverse trope series.

When Geralt gets kidnapped, it's up to Jaskier to rescue him. Some truths about a witcher's worst weakness come to light.

(geraskier, 2.1k, hurt/comfort, geralt whump, mutual pining, competent jaskier, love confession, mild blood)

read on AO3

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Jaskier lets out a string of curses all the while balancing the weight of two fully grown men with stumbling footwork. He desperately tries to keep Geralt up with a hand on the small of his back but fails to stop the injured witcher from drooping with each step, until, at last, both of them wind up in a heap of limbs by the road.

Geralt lets out a pained grunt and Jaskier scrambles with apologies.

“Fuck, sorry.” The bard shifts Geralt’s bulk with all he can muster and finally settles him on a patch of soft moss under the tree. The witcher hisses as his back hits the bark rather heavily. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

“You already said,” Geralt interrupts him but there’s no anger in his tone.

“Still. I am.”

Jaskier retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to dab at the mess of blood at Geralt’s temple, wincing when he finally sees how bad the blow is. Blood oozes from the gash, slower than a moment before. The fabric is soaked through and the skin there is still tender.

It’s all witchers’ weakness.

The temple. A blow to the head.

It messes up all their senses and coordination, leaving them in the most vulnerable state. If Jaskier had reached him any later, this might have done Geralt in.

Jaskier lets out a distressed sound at the thought.

“Stop fussing. We need to go.” The witcher, against all odds, remains level-headed.

“No, it’s all right. I knocked out all the guards and servants, along with the duke and his mage.” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s head for a better angle to press the handkerchief down on the wound. “I may have given the two of them a little more than the recommended dose. The lady at the apothecary warned me about the risk of choking with much sleeping potion, urgh, like I give an ounce of fuck if they die a gruesome death or not. It’d be a favor to the town.”

The venom surprises even Jaskier himself, and Geralt lets out a meaningful hum.

“Rest assured, my dear. No one will be looking for us today.”

Up close, Jaskier can feel Geralt scrutinize him intently as if to burn a hole into his face. He meets the amber gaze, the dark pupils still a little blown wide from the shock, but there’s also something akin to relief flowing in those beautiful eyes.

He revels in the silence, observing Geralt in return for further signs of hurt, but finds none.

The witcher relents first, the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So you drugged an entire castle?”

“Didn’t think I had it in me, huh?” Jaskier teases. “The White Wolf, saved by a humble bard and forever impressed by his wit.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up, oh mighty witcher. I’m sure you only needed the rescue because those villains took advantage of your only weakness.” The bard adds his usual dramatic flair into the last two words.

Geralt blinks. Something shifts in his expression, his breathing picking up and his eyes darting everywhere. If the bard didn’t know better, he’d say the witcher is flustered, which makes it all the more confusing.

“Mocking me, are you?” Geralt drops his gaze and tries to shy away, but the bard holds him in place with the other hand. Under Jaskier’s palm, the frame of the witcher’s ear is heating up.

“How am I mocking you? Geralt, even you must admit witchers aren’t all-powerful beings.” Jaskier frowns. “They messed up your head. I know all your senses get muddled when you’re like this. Seriously, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What are you talking about?” the witcher snaps his gaze back to Jaskier, a puzzled crease deep between his brows, which only makes the bard scoff with amusement.

“The head wound, of course. How did they get you? An ambush and a blow to the head, I’m assuming.” Jaskier explains. “How else did you get yourself into a dungeon and dimeritium cuffs? What, are you telling me you walk into their trap voluntarily?”

He rolls his eyes at the offhanded joke but the silence from the witcher leaves the mood heavier. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a denial of what he just said. Geralt is staring at him with an inexplicable look on his face, and these looks are hard to come by these days. Jaskier prides himself in being the best on the continent at reading his witcher, and he has no inclination to break the streak.

“What happened then? Talk to me, Geralt.”

Jaskier removes the handkerchief a little. The gash has stopped bleeding, so he ties it around Geralt’s head carefully to keep the wound shielded, at least until they can wash it properly. His hands stay with Geralt afterwards, waiting for him to open up.

“I—” Geralt purses his lips before continuing, golden eyes meeting the bard in earnest. “They didn’t ambush me, Jask. I walked into that castle unarmed by choice.”

“What?” Jaskier’s jaw drops.

“It’s because—” the witcher scowls. “Because I thought…that they had you.”

It’s like a lightning strike, where their skin connects tingling all the way from the tips of Jaskier’s fingers to a warm pool of fuzziness in his stomach. The air is suddenly too hot so Jaskier decides to put more space between them.

“Oh.”

Geralt chases him ever so slightly before settling back with resignation, his eyes still bare and vulnerable, as if he just revealed the darkest secret when it is only the sweetest thing in a horrible, horrible way.

“A whisper of you being held hostage and suddenly I couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember to check the truth. Couldn’t waste another second.” Geralt hovers a hand near the bard’s face before retreating to his side. “You were right that they got me because of my one weakness, Jaskier. Just not the one you assumed.”

The pounding in Jaskier’s chest is jumping out of his throat. He’s sure he will die within the next minute if he doesn’t speak to ease this ache in his heart.

“Oh.”

He ends up saying dumbly.

“It was too late when I noticed the absence of you. Your voice, your heartbeat, your scent. Nothing. You weren’t in that castle or the cells. All I could hear was silence and all I could smell was blood.” Geralt draws a shuddering breath. “I hoped, when they kept me in the dark, that they were lying about ever having you. That you were nowhere near that damn place instead of—”

The witcher swallows, unable to finish the sentence.

“Instead of,” Jaskier adds for him, “they’d already killed me.”

The tension hangs between them. The bard sits back on the heels of his feet and finds himself at a loss for words for the very first time in his life.

Geralt might be the only person who can force Jaskier through so many firsts in his life. His first time writing a hit song, first time smashing into someone’s face with a lute, first time saving a witcher’s life, and perhaps, first time murdering two evil overlords obsessed with collecting witchers for experiments.

Hmm, it’s not like Jaskier regrets any of these.

Geralt reaches out again, tentative and patient like he’s approaching a spooked horse. This time, Jaskier takes pity and meets him halfway, his thumb rubbing small circles at the sword callouses that he adores so much.

“Say something,” Geralt pleads.

Jaskier swallows a lump in his throat and sniffles to ease the congestion in his nose, his vision blurring in desperation.

“It’s the most words you’ve said in one sitting, Geralt. You’ll have to allow me a moment to figure out what you are saying and, most importantly, not saying.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s you, you know? There’s always something you are holding back and that is often the crux of it. I thought I got good at reading between the lines, but this is…overwhelming.”

With the enhanced healing kicking in, Geralt is looking much better by the minute. The blood dries and crusts over and his eyes almost shining in the daylight, or is it just the emotions within them? Jaskier can’t tell.

“Maybe I can help you. With the hidden words.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s fingers reassuringly. He tilts his head in the most endearing way. It happens to be that particular head tilt that Jaskier treasures with his life, the one that manages to always take his breath away.

“I love you, Jask.”

The warm pool of fuzziness in Jaskier’s stomach turns into a bottomless pit, and he’s falling.

And soaring.

“I love you.” Geralt smiles sadly. “In the dark of that cell, it became…ever so clear and so loud that I couldn’t deny it anymore. I love you, in spite of myself. Gods, I’ve loved you for so long.”

Geralt picks up Jaskier’s hand and places the barest touch of a kiss there, his lips chapped but oh so gentle. Jaskier lets out a soft gasp and the tears roll down uncontrollably. The next thing he knows, he’s buried deep in Geralt’s embrace. The sobs choke in his lungs like a dam has been broken.

“I—” Jaskier is amazed to find that their roles have reversed. The witcher has expressed everything but the bard becomes mute. So he takes up Geralt’s role gladly and replies with actions.

Jaskier’s lips are pressed everywhere he can reach: the soft, warm skin of Geralt’s neck, the sharp of his jaw, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He disregards the grime and dirt and kisses Geralt’s uninjured temple, the single most fragile part of a witcher’s body—barring their heart, so it seems. He tucks away a strand of white hair and kisses Geralt’s temple one more time, tasting the salty tang of tears.

When he pulls back, Geralt’s smile is blinding.

He hears Jaskier, even though—

“I still don’t know what to say,” Jaskier croaks, sniffling hard.

The bard rests his hands at the nape of Geralt’s neck and loses himself in the sunlit golden honey, his favorite color in the world and the most beautiful dream that’s ever come true.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Geralt wipes away the wetness on Jaskier’s face with the pad of his thumb. “Master Jaskier, poet, minstrel, professor… Stumped for words and forever impressed by a witcher’s love confession.”

He mimics Jaskier’s phrasing and the bard can’t help but chuckle despite the tears and snout, his hand swatting at Geralt’s shoulder. Jaskier knows he must look so absurd, laughing and crying all at once, but it’s the last thing in the world that matters.

Geralt loves him, and—

“You got hurt because of me.”

The remorse licks up, along with the urge to protect and to care. The sight of Geralt limp and bloody, bound by the wrists in a dark cell is something Jaskier never wants to relive again.

“I don’t care, Jask.”

“I care.”

“Then make it better.”

So he does. Geralt never wavers as Jaskier captures his lips and pours everything he cannot voice into the kiss, drawing a contented moan out of the witcher.

“Does it still hurt?” the bard whispers between one breath and the next.

“A little.”

Jaskier resumes his work and cards deft fingers through silver hair, careful not to nudge the handkerchief. His nails ghost over Geralt’s scalp and scratches gently until a purring sound rumbles deep in the witcher’s chest. The bard giggles proudly.

“Now?”

“Keep going.”

Geralt traps Jaskier between his strong arms devours him with passion, the heat of his body solid and calming.

Jaskier has never thought of himself as a protector, except at this moment with his witcher arching into his every touch and producing those heavenly sounds. The world is too bent on hurting Geralt, too eager to take and take and take from him.

A bard is not a fighter. Jaskier cannot stop monsters from tearing through armors or crossbows fired with ill intent.

But a bard is a lover. What Jaskier can do is heal, is piece Geralt back together with gentle words in the dark and soft lips on the thin skin at his temple.

“How about now?”

They are panting in tandem, the gold of Geralt’s eyes dreamy and out of this world.

“Still dizzy.”

“That’s from all the kissing, you oaf.”

But Geralt begs wordlessly with those wide, puppy-like eyes so openly, and Jaskier’s already non-existent resolve breaks into a million pieces. He kisses Geralt until the witcher melts into a puddle of purring mess, sun-warmed and pliant.

And he kisses Geralt more.

Again and again.

---

Thanks for the prompt. I kind of just rolled with the concept. The twist looks a bit obvious from the beginning, but feel free to tell me what you think. <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @dapandapod @artisanbaguette @birdsflyhome

Please tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #reverse trope #trope subversion #soft geraskier #geralt x jaskier #cw: blood #soft jaskier #hurt geralt #geralt whump #mutual pining #love confession #first kiss #italicized oh #hurt/comfort

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blorbosondeck · 4 years

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fic rec masterlist

canon divergent/finale fix its

Anamnesis

THIS! FIC! this fic lives in my head rent FREE it is so good and it makes so much sense in the narrative that the shitty finale concocted, as to why they wouldn't mention cas or anyone else and its just. so good and they write chuck in the most villainous way that i love!!!

"Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be. Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19."

Sunset Sound: Stairway to Heaven by @adhdeancas

GOD FUCKING CHRIST this is so good and sweet and im such a sucker for team ups and reunions!!! its 3:30 am rn and i just finished it and i love it SO much it made me laugh a lot and the last few chapters i had the stupidest grin just plastered to my face

The Closer the Star, the Greater the Parallax by @rocksalts

repressed bastard dean submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known and receives the rewards of being loved but only after some miscommunication i LOVE this i read it last night and it’s a fast favorite. my interests have overlapped and i am INTO it

“When Dean sits down to watch some bullcrap Discovery Channel episode with Cas, he doesn’t expect to actually learn anything. Except, with Cas explaining, he makes an effort to connect the dots.”

Don't We All Deserve To Be Happy?

VERY sweet and a VERY good pick me up. all around feel good fic!!!

"Post-canon fix-it, divergent from 15x19 where Jack stays and Dean doesn't die and Cas comes back and everyone is happy. Take a shot every time I'm salty about the finale."

Keep Your Love Alive

okay. okay okay okay this may be my favorite finale fix it just because of how well reasoned it is. like this feels what should have happened i love it SO much

"Dean gets to spend eternity sharing beers with Bobby on the Roadhouse porch and riding around in his Baby with Sam. He’s at peace… or he feels like he should be. But a few things nag at him: Where is Cas, and everybody else Dean had been hoping to see in Heaven? Why does he feel like he’s stuck in a loop, reliving the same memories over and over again? And who are the strangers wearing Sam’s and Bobby’s faces?"

The GoldenRod Revisions by @aethylas

this is one of the most well written things ive ever read. the script format DID make it feel more real and honestly? this is better writing than this show deserves. the finale that could have been ♥️

“A rewrite of Supernatural’s final two episodes, expanded into a five episode arc - in which Chuck needs to be defeated, Castiel deserves to be saved, and the characters in this story get a very different ending.“

Ascend by @wanderingcas

THEE finale fix it fic!!! written by the AMAZINGLY skilled and talented @wanderingcas !!! it’s 50k of angst and hurt/comfort and pure bliss

“Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?”

Things Happen (They Do, And They Do, And They Do) by THEE @sobsicles

i KNOW everyone has already recommended this and likely you’ve all already read it. but it has to go here bc REPRESSIOOOOOOOOON i LOVE this so much it is one of the most perfect things i’ve read. are you bisexual? did you have a kind of weird relationship with your best friend and not realize that how you felt about them wasn’t necessarily how other people felt about them and you were maybe a little bit in love with them but were too repressed to realize it? you’ll feel seen. maybe a little too seen

Closer (isn't close enough)

are you a sweet and sappy yet horny bastard? do you like cas exploding light bulbs? you will like this.

“the one where they finally talk about what cas said before the empty took him”

You and Your Husband

it is exTRMELY sweet!!! repression dean strikes again <3

"Five times Dean corrects someone about his relationship with Cas, and one time he realizes he doesn't need to."

Tall Grass

miscommunication and a slowburn! despite being written in 2017 and finished in 2018, it feels like a fix it. ft. plant obsessed cas <3

Invictus

a LOVELY and short (relatively) finale fix it

“They saved the world. They're free. It's done.

Except it's not, and carrying on is the last thing any of them are thinking about.

They still have someone they need to save.”

Unchained Link

post finale- it’s a great case fic and i am compelled i want more!!!

"It's after the end of things. Life continues on while Dean is "livin it up" in heaven. But it's never that simple, is it? A freak occurrence sends Dean into another time stranded back on Earth. And he thought his hunting days were over. But, no worries. His knight in shining armor comes to the rescue. Hijinks, therefore, ensue."

fun and time unspecified

Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Love Potion No. 5

very funny and sweet! miscommunication at its finest ♥️

"Cas gets drenched with a mystery potion from the ‘love spell’ shelf and... Dean has a sneaking suspicion, angel or no— the spell may have taken effect. And Cas might be in love with Sam."

The Way We Were

Y'all. It is so good its a great mix of funny and serious- extremely fun to see dean as like a base bisexual

"Dean and Castiel pose as a couple to gain access to a gated community known as 'The Glen', a pleasant if secretive location that the boys believe might be linked to several dead bodies showing up over the years bearing signs of ritualistic sacrifice. All seems well until Dean's memory is affected from an incident during a solo exploration, leaving Dean convinced that their cover story is true. Castiel is left trying to resolve their case without taking advantage of an increasingly enthusiastic Dean"

While You Were Sleeping

this is basically just the movie but replacing sandra bullock with cas. this is my comfort movie and imo, one of the most perfect rom coms. the fic isn’t finished but i still have the tab open on my phone and i will straight up go back and re read it when i need a pick me up.

aus/rewrites

The Harvelle Gospels: Offscript

i know everyone ever ( @jewishcharliebradbury ) has recommended this fic. and for good reason go fucking read it

“The Apocalypse is averted, the angels are in Heaven, and Jo is free from the threat of possession. Somehow it couldn't be farther from a happy ending.“

absolute riots

An Ineffably Profound Bond

i honestly would have put this in the finale fix it section! look. i know. i know you've been burned by crossover fics before. but this is Thee good omens/spn fic you want. its funny as hell and immensely satisfying. im weak for everyone working together tropes and that is this

"After Chuck sets 'The End' in motion, the remaining members of TFW make a miraculous escape. Not willing to waste any time, Castiel comes up with a plan to travel to one of the other worlds to try and get help from the angels there, but after a fight with Dean, it's the hunter who gets sent into an alternate universe,with seemingly no hope of return.

When a mysterious human with a heavenly weapon shows up in Aziraphale's shop, he and Crowley learn that their world is not the only one. Now it is up to them to decide whether or not they want to join forces with the human and help him save his world or simply find a way to send him home."

Somebody Up There Likes Me by @lafilleredige

cas is hit with a spell that turns his vessel into a woman, hijinks and sexuality crises ensue etc etc sam is a supportive and bitchy little brother and its all SO fucking funny and also. horny as hell i love it i love it i LOVE it

“’Dean doesn’t want to talk about your breasts, it’s making him uncomfortable because he hasn’t acknowledged the complex fluidity of human sexuality.’“

Stray Cat Strut

a long crack fic that IS one of the funniest things i’ve ever read and i can’t explain why. it’s so ooc but its so funny that i don’t care. if you need a laugh you gotta read this

"Sam and Cas are immediately in love with the adorable kitty they find outside the bunker door, and occupy their time planning how to convince Dean--who they believe is off sulking after a botched hunt--to let them keep their cat. Along the way, Dean learns to use a litter box and hears some confessions he maybe wasn’t supposed to hear, all while realizing just how much he loves Castiel.

Now all Dean has to do is convince Cas and Sam their new pet cat is actually him before they do something crazy--like neuter him!"

canon compliant or slight canon divergence

Give

by @doublestuffedimpala post season 7 episode 7, kind of ambiguous ending but truly a cas is happy to bleed for the winchesters fic

Punch Like Bones

short, post 5x04 homoerotic moment that i wish we’d gotten

#lmao please interact with this i spent so much time on it #i had to go onto desktop for this #ill keep adding on to it #my fic recs #fic rec #spn fic rec #deancas fic recs #charlie.txt

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hogwartsfirebolt · 4 years

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Hello everyone! I’m back for my (omg time flies) third yearly drarry rec list, in which I share with you my 30 favorite drarry fics I read in the year, divided in three parts. What a year 2020 was. It was challenging, scary and confusing, and it was also an amazing reading year for me, I read so, so much more than I ever had before, and I’m really excited to share these masterpieces with you! The banner art is by @dragontamerdame who is one of my favorite artists and was kind enough to let me use this beautiful piece, which you can (and totally should) reblog right here. Now, with nothing else to add and in no particular order, here’s my

FAVORITE FICS I READ IN 2020 PART ONE

1. Who we are in the shadows - @quicksilvermaid - 100k - E - What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost. But nothing is exactly as it seems. Not even Harry himself. And as he gets drawn further and further into Malfoy's world of honour and deception he finds himself questioning everything he thought he knew—about his childhood nemesis, the Ministry job he misses so much, and most of all, about himself. What happens when you’re forced to see that you were wrong?

THIS FIC!!! It was the first one I read in 2020, and it immediately became my favorite fic of the entire year, and one of my favorites of all time. I have since read it two more times, the entire 100k of it. There are absolutely no words to describe how amazing it is, how much it floored me to read their characterizations, their jobs and the roads life took them on to end up where they end up, the connection between them in a time when they don’t even know how to relate to anyone, their sorrow and struggles which, despite being so rooted in the magical world, are painfully human, just... wow. It’s a masterpiece. It changed the way I view their characters, forever, and I suspect I will read it many, many more times in the years to come. It’s that kind of story. If for whatever reason you haven’t read it, this is your sign to take that chance and embark on this amazing journey.

2. Every Kingdom - @thistle-verse - 7k - E - Every kingdom needs a prince. Every prince needs a good and useful knight. Draco and Harry play their parts and renegotiate some borders while they’re at it.

So, so lovely. Even though I don’t read them very often, alternate universes fascinate me so much, and I am in awe of the author for being able to pack so, so much story, so neatly into 7k words. This features a princely, lonesome Draco, a charming, golden Harry, and a blossoming love that could change everything. It’s beautiful, and I recommend it deeply.

3. The Bucket List - GallaPlacidia - 32k - Draco will die in six months if he can't get Harry Potter to fall in love with him. Since that's not going to happen, he might as well spend his last days working through his Bucket List. Tap-dancing lessons? Rock climbing? Poetry-writing? Threesomes? Cocaine? Getting to know his adorable cousin, Teddy Lupin? Draco will try them all! Feat. Cheerily pessimistic Draco, devoted bitch queen Pansy Parkinson, and a Harry who can't help but notice that something seems DIFFERENT about Draco, these days.

I’m positive that many, many of us got acquainted with GallaPlacidia’s writing this year, and I, too, fell in love with it. This story aches in the most beautiful of ways, the humor happens to be somehow light in such a difficult circumstance that it ends up hurting when you laugh, it hurts when everything is right because it’s also wrong, it aches when it’s supposed to be a happy moment and feels tender and sweet when it’s not. I can’t even imagine the challenge of writing this kind of story, and they pulled it off beautifully. It’s a lovely story, one you will take with you long after you finish it, and, personally, I think it’s a great introduction to the author’s writing.

4. halcyon days - @the-starryknight - 1.3k - T - Sleepy mornings caught while the sun rises are reserved for silly word games and soft touches and feelings.

Oh my god, the amount of tenderness in such a low wordcount made me weak in the knees. I almost couldn’t take it. Being able to convey such a deep emotional connection in a short story seems like such a daunting task, and the author makes it seem almost effortless. I guarantee that this will make you bring your hands to your chest and sigh with how lovely it is. Reading it will be the best ten minutes of your day.

5. Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon - @drarrytrash - 37k - E - According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot. Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Reading this, I found myself laughing out loud, nodding profusely with how freaking spot on the characterizations are. The dialogue is amazing, so hilarious and real and Harry’s inner monologue is so, so him. I love everything about this story. I have a soft spot for werewolf fic, and this one hit everything I love about it, the case is interesting and engaging, the incidental characters, the OCs, Ron and Hermione, everyone and everything is absolutely perfect and I had an absolute blast reading it. You HAVE to read this and see for yourself what I’m talking about.

6. Sex Ed for Aurors - curiouslyfic - 8k - M - Some things, you need to learn on the job.

Oh my god this is so freaking good. The premise is, basically, that Harry is accidentally doused with a lust potion while in the vicinity of Draco, and suddenly wants him more than anything. I loved this take on that trope, we’re in Harry’s head, and it’s absolutely hilarious and endearing to experience the near childish glee he feels whenever Draco looks his way, when he smiles, when he feels he’s made him happy, meanwhile Draco and Ron are horrified and doing whatever they can to correct it. This is so funny and such a good time, I can’t recommend it enough! While you’re at it, you should definitely read megyal’s remix of this, which is also a blast.

7. plasticine porters with looking-glass ties - @bonesliketambourines - 15K - E - Lately, Harry thinks things don’t seem the same between him and Draco. His head is in the clouds when he thinks about what their relationship is now, and where it might be headed—he’s happy with their friendship, but he wants something else. A potions accident over a lunchtime visit to Draco’s lab (what does he get up to in there, anyway?) changes things, though, and accelerates their relationship faster than either of them had ever expected. How are they going to get through this new development together?

Atmospheric, beautifully-written and delicious. Their relationship is tender, just on the edge of something more, when they’re forced to quarantine together and face the effects of a potion that makes them see and feel things differently, which makes for the most intense, visual, gorgeous sex scene I think I’ve ever read. It’s just absolutely phenomenal.

8. i wake up falling - warmfoothills - 9k - M - Draco’s always leaving, one way or another. Harry’s usually 240 thousand miles too late.

In trying to come up with a way to summarize this story, I’m feeling the overwhelming urge to cry again, just like I did when I read it. It’s just so, so, beautiful, every single word of it aches in the best way, the longing feels deeply authentic and just, the setting and the jobs and everything is so unique and gorgeous. Every single work by this author is beyond beautiful, but especially this one is incredibly close to my heart and I think everyone should read it. It’s a gem.

9. In Every Universe - @skeptiquewrites - 27k - M - They sent Professor Harry Potter to search for Unspeakable Draco Malfoy. Draco has stolen a Firebird, an experimental magical device from the Department of Mysteries that lets you enter parallel universes as yourself. As Harry traverses from universe to universe, he begins to think Draco might be the one searching for him. A story about whether knowing what's possible makes it possible.

Stories where the characters find themselves somehow hopping from one reality to another are always so, so fascinating to me, and this one is incredibly creative and well-written, so entertaining all around. The mystery of it kept me on my toes, and every single reality was a joy to read. 10/10

10. Life goes not backward - @shealwaysreads - 8k - T - Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots. Leaving one life behind isn’t always a sacrifice, and sometimes the greatest good comes from embracing the people you love.

My god, there are not enough words to describe how much this story means to me, how beautiful it is, how every single time I’ve read it, I’ve cried. Bella has undoubtedly become one of my absolute favorite writers in fandom. She has such a way with words, there is not one of her stories that hasn’t touched me, that doesn’t feel like an actual, full-length novel no matter the word count. I read so many of them this year, so many of the masterpieces she’s gifted us, but this one especially is so tender, so dear, that I ended up choosing it as my favorite of hers this year. Harry’s charactertization, the unbelievable warmth of their relationship, absolutely everything about this is gorgeous. Go read it, right now, and then binge all her other works!! You won’t regret it.

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

Each of these fics is incredibly close to my heart and I enjoyed them immensely. In the midst of everything changing, I really found comfort and solace in the amazing works of the people of this fandom. I hope they give you the same amount of warmth and comfort they gave me, and I’m ALWAYS here to gush about any of them ❤️ Happy New Year!

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #2020rec #ficrec #draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry rec list

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carriagelamp · 4 years

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Art of Aardman

I found myself a cheap copy of the Shaun the Sheep movie, so I was rewatching a bunch of Aardman films earlier this month and decided to hunt down some books too. For anyone that doesn’t know, Aardman is a British stop-motion studio that does fantastic work like Wallace and Gromit, Shaun the Sheep, Chicken Run, Early Man… tons of cool stuff. They’re always quirky and funny and warm-hearted. This was just a very nice art book for anyone that’s a fan of Aardman stop motion and wants to see a bit extra; it shows some cool concept art and blows up the neat details in Aardman work, especially in their intricate stuff like The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists!

Asterix and the Picts (Asterix and the Chariot Race, and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion)

I decided to try a couple of the new Asterix comics that were done by the new team, just to see if they stand up to the old ones (that and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion cause I’d never read that one before). They were pretty decent! Asterix and the Picts was my favourite of the two though I wouldn’t say either are going to contest for my favourite Asterix comic... but still! The art looks good and the stories felt like what I would expect, they made for a pleasant couple evenings of reading especially since it’s been so long since I’ve read a new Asterix comic. If you’ve never read Asterix it’s one of the biggest name French comic series in North America, as far as I know and very worth the read. It’s about a single Gaulish village that’s holding out against the invading Romans through sheer force of will, slapstick hijinks, and a magical super-strength potion brewed by their druid. Lots of fantastic visuals and cute wordplay, even in the English translations.

Bear

I found out about this bastion of Canadian literature via tumblr post that was losing its collective mind over the fact that some bizarre bear-based erotica novella somehow won the most prestigious literary prize available in Canada. Since I too found this hilarious and unspeakably bizarre I had to give it a read, obviously. And yes, the flat surface level summary is... a librarian moves out into rural Ontario and falls in love with a literal for-real not-supernatural-not-a-joke bear. And I have to say… it is actually worthy of an award, which I was not expecting given that I was there for a laugh. It has beautiful writing, and the subtextual story is pretty interesting… it kind of makes me think of The Haunting of Hill House actually in terms of themes. (Womanhood, personhood, independence, autonomy partially achieved through escaping the male gaze by claiming non-human lovers... listen if I were still in university I would right a paper comparing the two novels).

I dunno man, it’s fucking weird. Actually a well-written book, but sure is about a woman falling in love with a literal bear. Give it a read if you want something bonkers but like… high-brow bonkers.

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites

Best book I have read in like… a while. A long while. I am not a fast reader, and I consumed 90% of this book over a weekend. It’s not at all like Terry Pratchett, but at the same time it scratched an itch for me that I haven’t had satisfied since Pratchett’s death. A very clever, hilariously funny poly romance between a disabled werewolf, an anxious vampire lord, and an incredibly powerful woman, with heaps of social satire, political commentary, and sinister undertones. The whole thing reads a bit like fanfiction and I say that in the most flattering way possible -- it is so easy to jump right in and be immediately taken over by the characters and the world and the plot, you never feel like you’re fighting to engage even though the world-building is fascinating and expansive. It welcomes you in right away, it was the book equivalent of a quilt and a hug which is something I sorely needed with all this pandemic bullshit. If you read any of the books on this list, go read that one while I sit here in pain waiting for the sequel.

Kid Paddle

I watched the cartoon of Kid Paddle as a kid and was thinking about it recently, so I decided to hunt down some of the original comics online. They’re fun and weird, with a cute art style and fantastic monsters designs. (My favourites are always about Kid either daydreaming or playing games that involve Midam’s weird warty troll creatures. It’s like a cross between Calvin and Hobbes and Foxtrot with the fun sort of quirks that I love in Belgian comics. Unfortunately, unlike Asterix, I’ve only come across these ones in French, but if you can read French it’s totally worth popping over to The Internet Archive and reading the ones they have available.

The Last Firehawk: The Golden Temple

The lastest Firehawk book. Despite being written for quite young readers, I did enjoy the early books in this series quite a bit. They’re about a young owl and squirrel who found an egg for a magical species that was believed to be extinct. With the newly hatched firehawk, the three of them head off on a mission to find an ancient firehawk magic that could save the entire forest. Very basic adventure story but a good intro to the tropes for children. Unfortunately the quality really feels like it drops with each subsequent book; this will probably be the last one I bother reading.

Lumberjanes: The Moon Is Up

I honestly think I enjoy these Lumberjanes novels even more than the comics just because it really gives time to delve into each story and examine how the camper are really thinking and feeling about everything. (Also I’m always weak for novelizations of anything.) The Moon Is Up is a book that focuses more on Jo, and takes place during the camp’s much anticipated Galaxy Wars, a competition between cabins that goes over several days. While the campers prepare for these challenges though, they also run into a strange little creature with a penchant for cheese and theft. Roanoke cabin needs to keep ahead in Galaxy Wars and somehow deal with the fearsome Moon Pirates that a closing in...

Lumberjanes v4 (Out Of Time)

One of the Lumberjanes comics, a cool, girl-focused, queer comic series. Honestly, this is just a fun series that I never got as into as I should have. My advice is honestly to skip book one because it gets better as it continues, and I’ve really been enjoying the later books now that I’ve given it another go. It follows five campers at Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hardcore Lady Types (Jo, April, Molly, Mal, and Ripley) as they handle all sorts of challenges, from friendship to crushes, camp activities to supernatural horrors, getting badges to not being brutally killed. Great if you liked the vibe of Gravity Falls but want it to be queer-er.

Mooncakes

Another queer graphic novel, but unfortunately not a very good one. It really looked appealing and I had high hopes, but the book itself really didn’t hold up… I actually couldn’t even finish it, the plot was just too… non-existent. The art is fairly mediocre once you actually look at it, especially backgrounds, and it feels very… placid. Not much conflict or excitement or even a very compelling reason to keep reading. If you just want a soft queer supernatural you may get more mileage out of it than me, but it didn’t really do it for me. There’s better queer graphic novels out there.

New Boy In Town

One of the worst books I have ever read. My girlfriend had ordered a very different book online but through a frankly stupendous error was sent this 1980s pulp romance instead. Absolutely nauseating on levels I couldn’t even begin to enumerate here. Naturally we read the whole thing out loud. Probably took us 10 times longer to finish than it warranted because I had to stop every two sentences to lose my mind. If you like bad decisions, baffling hetero courting rituals, built-in cultural Christianity without actually calling it that, and gold panning then boy howdy is this the book for you.

(seriously, you better have patience for gold-panning if you attempt this one, because I sure learn that I don’t)

Piggies

This was a picture book I enjoyed as a kid and had a reason to reread recently. Honestly it’s just very cute and simple, and the art is completely mesmerizing. Wonderful if you know a young child that would enjoy a simple goofy boardbook.

Shaun the Sheep: Tales From Mossy Bottom

Related to my Aardman fascination earlier this month. I tried reading a varieties of Shaun the Sheep books — most of which are mediocre at best — but the Tales From Mossy Bottom Farm series is genuinely good. Just chapter books, of course, but the illustrations match the series’ concept art and each story feels like it could have jumped directly out of an episode. They’re just cute and feel-good! Kinda like Footrot Flats but more for kids, and from the sheep’s perspective moreso than the dog’s.

#aardman animation #shaun the sheep #lumberjanes #kid paddle #asterix #the last firehawk #hunger pangs: true love bites #marian engel #bear #canadian literature #canlit #queer lit #book review #book reviews #chatter

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

pretending is a gateway drug // george weasley

Summary: George bribes the reader into being his fake girlfriend for forty-two days, you can imagine how that plays out.

Request: hey lovey! absolutely in love with your writing; it’s so beautiful and i just cannot get enough of it! if your requests are open (and you like the idea) could i ask for our beloved george x reader—i’ve recently been obsessed with fake dating tropes where they end up together in the end.. i don’t have anything specific in mind for the plot, i know whatever you come up with will be fabulous :D thanks a ton darling.. keep on writing, you have a gift, x

A/N: I love this trope so much and this was the sweetest compliment and I was beyond excited to start this – also I usually try to keep it gender neutral but it was a struggle with this so sorry about that :( also this is so long oh my god

Reader: female

Warnings: female reader, making out

You hadn’t heard George sneak up behind you, but being friends with the twins for as long as you had, you weren’t surprised easily.

“Y/N, I need a favour,” he said, leaning on the bookshelf you were rifling through. You didn’t turn to face him; you already knew it was George by his voice.

“No.”

You dragged your fingers across the spines of a few books before finding the book on Potions you were after, a disproportionately happy smile lifting your cheeks at the prospect.

“You don’t even know what it is!”

You huffed, running your tongue over your teeth before turning to him, tilting your head.

“Fine. What is it?”

You raised your eyebrow, leaning the book on your hip. He smiled slightly.

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

You blinked at him, staring at his hopeful expression.

“No.”

And with that, you walked over to Madam Pince to sign out the book. George stayed a few feet behind you, not wanting to incur Madam Pince’s wrath as he had done countless times before. Fred and George were notorious in the library; once they’d made Pince so mad she banned them for a month before McGonagall convinced her they needed to use the library for their studies. A laughable idea.

“Thank you,” you said to the librarian. She shot George a deathly glare over your shoulder and you couldn’t help but enjoy his discomfort. She then directed it at you and you found yourself walking toward the exit very quickly.

“Come on, Y/N, please!” George begged, walking next to you back to the Gryffindor common room.

“No.”

“Please…”

“Nope.”

“What if I split the money with you?”

You stopped in your tracks, frowning and turning your head towards him.

“What money?”

You wanted to punch him for the cheerful grin that erupted on his face.

“I am so very glad you asked. Ron said that I couldn’t get a girlfriend if I tried, which is a bit rich, really, don’t you think?”

Something about your expression told him he should get to the point.

“Anyway, so, Ron made a bet with Fred that I couldn’t get a girlfriend before the Yule Ball.”

“So why not just get one of the Beauxbatons girls to date you? It’s like two months away.”

“Forty-two days, actually. And, I don’t actually want a girlfriend.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“I don’t believe you.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around to face the window, the whole of Hogwarts in the view.

“There is a whole world of girls to make out with out there, Y/N. Now, why would I limit myself?”

You turned your head to face him, his face very close to yours from where he stood with his palms still sat on your shoulders. Your face felt warm all of a sudden.

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he smiled, letting you go so you could turn around. “But will you help me?”

“Why me? Why not Angelina? Or Katie?”

“Fred’s got his eye on Angelina and I think Katie actually fancies me…” his expression turned from pensive to cocky in almost a second. “Can’t blame her really.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms, your book perched in your hand.

“How much?”

“The bet’s four galleons.”

“Four?” you echoed, frowning. “Bloody hell, Ron must really think you’re undesirable.”

You smirked, tilted your head to the side. “Can’t blame him really.”

“Oi!” George huffed, pushing you to the side. You shoved him back, starting to walk again.

“I’ll do it for two galleons.”

“Two galleons! That’s bloody half!”

“Nice to see your years of Arithmancy has paid off.”

“That only leaves a galleon each for me and Fred.”

“Without me, it leaves nothing for you and Fred, because without me, you won’t win the bet.”

He stared at you for a moment, the only sound: your in-sync footsteps down the corridor.

“Fine.”

“When do we start then, boyfriend?” you asked, stopping directly outside the Fat Lady’s portrait and swivelling to face George with a smug grin, enjoying his annoyed reluctance far too much.

“Right now, girlfriend.”

And so, that’s how became George Weasley’s girlfriend in four minutes – no doubt a new record for him. When you walked inside, you rushed to sit down first, as you always did, and ended up on the opposite side of the sofa to Fred, your feet stretched out towards him and your back against the arm. As he always did, George lifted your feet with an eye roll and sat underneath them, resting them on his lap. The others all greeted you but nobody batted an eyelid.

But then George placed his hand on your leg, just above your knee and you felt your breath hitch at the contact. He seemed to notice your unease and turned to you, a silent question in his eyes as he began to rub his thumb up and down. You shot him a small smile, mainly for any audience you may have had, you told yourself, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt, though and that both scared and delighted you.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said, his voice loud as he looked at you. No one had really heard him yet, but you knew it wouldn’t stop him, he was relentless. His eyes were full of amusement and you could only imagine how much he’d enjoy this whole arrangement. “What is happening here?”

He pointed at George’s hand on your knee and for some reason, George had the good sense to look almost bashful at the attention. Some part of you didn’t want him to make it a big deal or obvious but you couldn’t figure out why exactly.

“Bit saucy for you two, isn’t it?”

With a scowl, you lifted up the leg George’s hand wasn’t rested on and kicked Fred in the side, earning a grunt in response.

“Shut up, Fred,” you whispered, trying not to draw attention to yourself. George laughed at his twin’s pained expression.

“Brilliant, love.” He said so easily it was almost natural. You froze at the pet-name but thankfully you could blame it on Ron’s outburst that had cut through the room.

“Is something going on with you two?” he asked suspiciously, looking between you and George accusingly.

“Get a grip,” Ginny insisted, “Y/N would never stoop that low.”

You smiled at her comment but you knew you’d have to do something pretty convincing to earn your two galleons.

“Oh, shut up, Ron,” you said half-heartedly, drawing every eye listening to you. George’s hand squeezed your leg comfortingly, or maybe warningly. Hermione frowned, leaning forward.

“Are you dating George?”

You pursed your lips and leant into the back of the sofa, automatically towards George, a force of habit you weren’t aware of.

“Wow,” Harry said, rather observantly for him. You rolled your eyes before standing up and walking away from them. You knew all eyes were on you and so, you stopped and turned, eyebrows drawn down.

“You coming?”

George’s face lit up at your words and he stood up, grinning as he raced over to you. As you both walked towards the boys’ dorms, you could feel their stares on your back. George could too, it seemed, and as you started up the stairs, he rested a hand on your hip. You knew, at that point, that you were definitely getting paid after this.

You were two weeks in when you started slipping. You hadn’t forgotten that you were supposed to be dating, in fact, it seemed like you’d forgotten that you weren’t really. Something about George just felt so right and easy. He’d put his arm around your waist when you sat next to him or around your shoulder in the corridor and he’d kiss your hairline before he left and your cheek when you’d done something to be proud of. You spent more time with him to keep up appearances and whilst you knew you liked George - he was one of your best friends for a reason - you didn’t realise how much you liked his company. He made you laugh until you thought you’d throw up and smile so much your cheeks would ache. You had to remind yourself it wasn’t real but you didn’t suspect anything untoward about your feelings really – you were just close with your best friend, is all.

Ron, however, was immensely suspicious. After three weeks of the pretence, he stormed in to find you lying on the sofa with George, your head on his shoulder with his arm wrapped around you as you played with each other’s hands, talking about nothing. It wouldn’t have been an uncommon sight before your business deal but now everybody thought you were dating, there was something strangely intimate about it.

“I know you’re faking it,” Ron said, frowning and pointing his finger at you both. You snorted and George frowned, neither of you moving.

“Okay?” you said, not at all fazed. Maybe you’d gotten a little too used to it.

“I’ve never seen you kiss.”

You shot Ron a strange look before you felt George’s lips briefly pressed against the side of your head. Ron rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face.

“I meant properly. I’ve never seen you kiss properly.”

Fred, who’d only just arrived, sat down on a chair opposite you with an amused smile.

“You’re a right little pervert. Aren’t you, Ronniekins?”

“Oh, piss off, Fred. You know I’m right!”

“Fine,” George said, shuffling a little bit and sitting you both up. He stood on the sofa, dragging you up with him. He ignored your confused expression, looking around the busy common room with a grin. “Ladies, gentlemen and Ron, this is my very real girlfriend and we are very really dating and I love her very much.”

You knew it wasn’t real and you were fine with that, you thought. You couldn’t ignore, though, the unsettling feeling in your stomach. You didn’t have time to think on it though because within seconds, George had grabbed your face in his large, warm hands and kissed you. You were understandably startled at first, completely unprepared and very much not convinced about how fake the whole thing was – it certainly didn’t feel fake when he bit softly at your bottom lip. There were multiple wolf whistles and hoots from the people around, mostly Fred, you suspected. You couldn’t focus on them as your hands shot to George’s chest in surprise, his jumper soft under your fingertips. He leant you back a little bit, one of his hands holding you close to him by the small of your back. It wasn’t until you felt lightheaded that he pulled away.

Slightly dazed, you looked up at him and he sent you a dazzling smile before he turned to Ron, who was as red as a tomato and swallowing gruffly.

“Fine,” he muttered, shaking his head. He all but slumped away, cursing under his breath.

George turned to you, a smile on his face, as everyone decided they had better things to do than stare at you and George making out. You felt a lump in your throat as you stared at him and for a moment, it all felt way too real; one hand on your back and the other cupping your jaw, you felt like he was still kissing you and suddenly you couldn’t breathe again. George opened his mouth to speak but Fred beat him to it. His face was a lot lower than yours were from his place on the floor, a ridiculously smug smile on his lips.

“Brilliant work, you two,” he said cheerily, staring at you for a fraction too long. “Truly dedicated to the cause.”

You felt sick at his words, but you nodded anyway.

“Thanks for going with me there, Y/N. We definitely sold that kiss.”

You nodded again, feeling empty. Nothing made you feel more hollow, though than when George’s hands left you.

“Ready to go give Filch a lunchtime he won’t regret?”

“Always,” George replied, beyond excited. He shot you a wink before disappearing with his brother through the portrait hole. You sat down on the sofa with a huff, your eyes sad and your heart tied to an anchor.

You avoided George the fourth week. Not enough to make anyone suspicious, but enough to make you feel less horrible about the whole situation. You weren’t ready to think about why it had been bothering you so much; you knew it was fake when you signed up for it and it wasn’t like you liked George or anything. Fortunately, a voice calling your name interrupted you before you could go down that rabbit hole. Unfortunately, the voice belonged to George and he was chasing after you, rushing past shorter students. You knew full well you couldn’t avoid him, no matter how much you wanted to, so you plastered a big smile on your face and turned to him, fully aware that noise carried on the moving staircases.

“Georgie,” you said happily, ignoring the gnawing feeling inside. “How’re you?”

You expected an equally fake response from him, but, as always, he surprised you. He grabbed the top of your arm lightly and pulled you into a deserted classroom, shutting the door behind you and dropping his hand.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together and eyes full of, what looked like, hurt. He was a better actor than you gave him credit for.

“What do you mean?” Your voice was the same light and airy tone you’d used in the corridor and it clearly wasn’t sitting well with George.

“No, no,” he shook his head, his long red hair swishing with the movement. He did look very handsome- “None of that crap, I’m serious. Why’re you avoiding me?”

“Why?” you frowned. “Does someone suspect something?”

“What?” he looked visibly taken aback. “No, forget that. I want to know why my best friend is ignoring me.”

You swallowed, not really looking at him, but through him.

“It’s nothing, George.”

“It’s clearly not nothing-“

“George, give it a rest, please.”

He paused, noticing how upset you seemed. He went to brush away a stray lock of hair from your cheek when you pulled away, avoiding his eyes.

“I’ll make sure nobody questions anything, don’t worry,” you said before rushing around him, leaving the door open behind you.

George officially didn’t know what he was doing. It seemed like a great idea, at first. He needed a fake girlfriend, his best friend was a girl and Fred had agreed, he’d pushed him to ask you and it was going great, it was very convincing. Truth be told, he loved it. He loved making you laugh and he loved the casual touches and the affection. But then he kissed you, and something changed and now you wouldn’t even talk to him.

“Fred?” he asked, sitting on the floor of his dorm opposite his brother. “Do you think I’ve messed it all up with Y/N?”

“What?”

Fred, who rarely worried about anything in life, was concerned. As soon as Ron had teased George about getting a girlfriend, he’d orchestrated the whole thing to try and get the two of you together. He’d been right, as well; those few weeks you spent pretending only further convinced him that you were both perfect for each other. But now, sitting there, playing around with random inventions, he felt slightly guilty.

“She won’t talk to me,” he paused, “I think it’s this stupid bet.”

Fred had never seen George look so sad.

“After I kissed her, she’s just been acting so weird. I just-“ he paused again, sighing. “I just want my best friend back.”

Whilst Fred was, of course, very sympathetic to his brother’s plight, he’d stopped listening. George’s words only further solidified his belief – if you freaked out after kissing George, there was only one reason why and he would get it out of you, kicking and screaming.

“You fancy George,” he said the next day, following you into an empty corridor on your way to the library to return a book.

“Firstly, stop following me, you creepy sod. Secondly, of course, I do,” your voice grew an edge, “he’s my boyfriend.”

“Now we both know, dear Y/N, that that is not what I meant.”

You stopped walking and frowned at him; his smile only grew.

“See, I thought about why kissing him would freak you out so much and it just became so blindingly obvious. I mean you picked the less good-looking twin, but I can understand it-“

“Does he know?” you asked, and Fred’s amusement faded when he saw your panic.

“No, but I suggest you talk to him about it. It’s definitely in your best interest.”

With that, he strolled in the opposite direction, whislting with his hands shoved in his pockets, leaving you with a big decision and also, probably, a library fine.

You didn’t decide to talk to George until dinner. You sat next to him the whole time, your arms touching, but never really interacting with each other and that only created a black hole in your chest. You couldn’t cope without George, as your best friend or the something more you knew you wanted him to be. After you’d both finished eating, you reached over and grabbed his hand, his head jolting towards you at the contact.

“Can we talk?” you asked quietly, everyone else too concentrated on their food to hear you. He nodded and with a carefully calculated routine, you walked out of the Great Hall hand in hand. Your hands dropped as soon as you turned the corner and that alone made you feel sick.

“George-“

“Y/N-“

You both stopped, nervous, breathy laughter filling the corridor over the soft hum of people talking from the hall next door.

“You go first,” you insisted, desperate to avoid what you knew you had to do.

“Well,” he scratched the back of his neck with his hand before sighing. “This whole thing started off really nice, like really nice,” your eyebrows drew downwards at the soft pink flush of his cheeks.

“But now it’s weird and we’re weird and I- Y/N, I don’t want us to be weird. I don’t care about four stupid galleons; I care about my best friend-“

“George, I like you. Like, like like you ”

You had to curse yourself for your timing, but you just couldn’t hold it in, looking at his sweet expression as his mouth said such nice things.

“What?”

You screwed your eyes shut and let out a shaky exhale.

“I didn’t know I did until we were pretending and then there was all the touching and the talking and it just felt so right and then you kissed me and I didn’t know what to do because it wasn’t real and all I wanted it to be was real and I didn’t know-“

His lips were on yours and his hands, cupping your jaw gently, pulled you into him. You barely registered it before he pulled away, a large smile on his face that only grew larger with your bewildered expression.

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, wetting his lips as his thumb lightly brushed your cheekbone. You blinked at him, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

“For real?”

He laughed.

“For real.”

You couldn’t help the slow smile that lifted your cheeks, unable to contain the happiness that flodded through you. Your whole body felt light and George’s smitten expression made your heart soar. His eyes twinkled and you knew that yours would be just as ecstatic.

“I thought you didn’t want to limit yourself to just one-“

Before you could finish your teasing remark, he was kissing you again and this time, it was even better; this time it was for real.

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator

@loveisblindness

@decadentwastelandtrash - I’m having trouble tagging you I’m sorry!!

@xinyourdreamsx

@brainlesspasta

#george weasley #writing #imagine #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader

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geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde · 4 years

Text

My Wildest Dreams

Howdy Howdy! This is my fourth (of five) prompts for my 500 follower raffle (and it’s taken me so long to write it I’m at 600, sorry)

This is for the oh so talented @julek for the pairing Geraskifer and the trope truth potions! I hope you like it!!

Shout out to @selectivegeekwithstandards who was my sounding board and helped me fix what was a verifiable disaster of a first draft <3 <3

Jaskier wouldn’t go so far as to say that he was annoyed at the way Geralt and Yennefer were behaving but it certainly was exhausting.

The sorceress had met up with him and Geralt two towns back and had been travelling with them since. It wasn’t uncommon for the three of them to travel together, Yennefer popping in and out of their lives as she saw fit. But this time was different for some reason. Normally she would arrive and her and Geralt would disappear to fuck like bunnies for a while while Jaskier yearned from afar. This time, however, they’d had a hushed conversation and then… that was it.

And they had kept having those conversations, sending furtive looks toward Jaskier each time. The bard decided to pretend like he didn’t notice but honestly it was getting a bit too weird. Normally when Yennefer was travelling with them, Jaskier spent the entire time pining, wishing they were paying him attention… inviting him into Yennefer’s impressive tent for… whatever it was they did.

Jaskier sighed as he noticed the look Geralt sent him from the other side of the room. Geralt didn’t normally sneak looks at him or, if he did, he was normally sneakier about it. They were in an herbalist’s shop, Geralt and Yennefer having both needed ingredients, so Jaskier was just wandering around and looking at the various things and keeping his hands to himself.

Jaskier suddenly noticed something strange on the highest shelf of jars in the shop.

The jar was smaller than all the others and it wasn’t labelled either. It was filled with a brilliant purple powder that shimmered in the low candlelight.

“It’s not for sale.”

Jaskier jumped, not having heard the old herbalist walk up behind him. He cleared his throat, “What is it?”

The herbalist ignored his question. “Are you with them?” the man gestured to where Geralt and Yennefer had their heads close together and were muttering to each other.

“Yes.”

The man hummed thoughtfully, eyeing Jaskier, “You can have it.”

“What?” The man had pointed at the small jar when he said it but he had also just said it wasn’t for sale.

The man grabbed the jar off the shelf and held it out to Jaskier, “It’ll solve your problem.”

“What problem?” Jaskier asked as he reached out and took the jar, staring curiously at the contents.

The man nodded toward Geralt and Yennefer, “With those two. Just add a spoonful with their wine, they won’t taste a thing.”

Right, yes. Just mix a strange substance in their drinks. That’ll work brilliantly. “And what exactly is it supposed to do.”

“It will make them tell the truth.”

Well… that would certainly be a nice change. But still...

“I can’t pay for this.”

The man waved a hand, “I told you, it isn’t for sale. And trust me, it will help.”

Jaskier pocketed the powder hesitantly and watched the herbalist cross the shop to where Yennefer was inspecting a bundle of herbs.

How strange. But the truth would be nice. He needed to know what was going on, why the two were being so secretive.

No. He couldn’t.

It took another week travelling with Geralt and Yennefer’s weird behavior before Jaskier put any actual consideration into using the powder. The pair had just kept on with their whispers and their staring, making Jaskier uncomfortable at every turn. Honestly, he had listed after the couple for years but now he was getting rather put off just looking at them.

Desperate times and that...

Jaskier waltzed through the door to the inn room they were all sharing, three mugs of wine in hand.

“I need you two to tell me the truth,” Jaskier declared, standing just inside the doorway of their room. It was time for him to put his foot down and get the answers he needed.

“What are you talking about?” Yennefer asked sharply. She was frozen, loose herbs held in one hand, lingering over where she had been bundling them over the table.

“You two,” Jaskier gestured at them, sloshing wine in the mugs he was still carrying, “have been keeping something from me for weeks and I am sick of it.”

Geralt opened his mouth but Jaskier shushed him, “No, listen. I need the truth. Either you tell me now or, if that’s too difficult, you drink these.”

Geralt grunted, “What would drinking wine have to do with anything?” The witcher had set down the dagger he had been examining in favor of staring at Jaskier, directing his full attention at the bard.

“The drinks are drugged,” Jaskier responded matter-of-factly. “A truth potion. So, if you don’t think you can be honest with me without help, you can drink this. Otherwise, I’m leaving, and I don’t want to see either of you again.”

The silence in the room was stifling and suddenly Jaskier was horrified. What if he was being too forceful? What if they just… left?

Yennefer and Geralt shared a meaningful look before finally Geralt stood up and walked over to Jaskier, taking the mugs of wine from him. He handed one to Yennefer silently before taking a drink from his own.

Geralt looked back to Jaskier, “You’re right, you deserve the truth.”

Yennefer stared at the wine in her hand for a moment and Jaskier suddenly felt incredibly nervous. What if this was something he didn’t want to know after all?

Finally, Yennefer took a long drink and hummed slightly, “You are right, Jaskier.”

“Do you feel any different?” He asked hesitantly.

Yennefer shook her head, “No, we’ll need to finish the drinks for it to work properly. And I think I would like to wait until then to have this conversation. It won’t be easy for me.”

“Okay,” Jaskier responded quietly, sitting on one of the beds in the room as he worked on his own wine, waiting for… something to happen.

Geralt and Yennefer had both returned to their previous tasks, both absentmindedly sipping at the wine.

There was a knock at the door.

Jaskier hurried to open it and accept the three plates of food, “I hope everyone’s hungry” he said brightly.

“Always am. Never get enough to eat.” Geralt said, reaching out to take a plate from Jaskier.

Geralt’s brow furrowed suddenly as Jaskier looked at him curiously. He had long suspected that the witcher needed more food, but he had never said so. Jaskier set the second plate across the table where Yennefer was sitting, “and for the lady”.

She simply nodded in thanks, a small smile on her face.

Jaskier sat upon the bed again, digging into his plate. “So,” he started in between bites, “do either of you have anything you would like to tell me?”

“I enjoy your company.” Yennefer said suddenly, her face reddening.

Jaskier was taken aback, “You… what?”

“Enjoy your company.” The sorceress was staring at Jaskier with emotion shining in her eyes that Jaskier never thought he would see. Not directed at him.

Jaskier looked at Geralt, unsure of how to respond. Geralt’s lips were pressed together tightly, his brow furrowed, “Is… something wrong, Geralt?”

“I…” Geralt hesitated, “am sorry if we made you uncomfortable.” The witcher didn’t apologize easily, always saying rubbish about not having feelings, so the statement meant a lot, particularly under the circumstances.

Jaskier nodded, feeling bad he’d given the two the ultimatum, but glad he would get answers now, “I just couldn’t handle the weird tension and the whispering and the looks anymore.”

Yennefer sighed, “We were talking about you.”

“Why were you talking about me?” Jaskier suspected as much with the looks but he couldn’t think of a reason they would be talking about him.

“Because we’re both in love with you.” Geralt responded quietly, his eyes downcast.

Jaskier was certain his heart stopped, “Ahhh… that doesn’t sound right.” They couldn’t possibly have feelings for him, not more than a fond friendship. It didn’t make sense.

“Well, we can’t lie thanks to you.” Yennefer said, staring Jaskier dead in the eye. The earnest look on her face left Jaskier breathless.

He nodded, breaking the eye contact, “Right. Sorry about that. I was just at my wits end.”

“We really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Yennefer said, her voice softer this time, drawing Jaskier’s gaze back to hers.

“Do you… mean it, though? That you both love me?” Jaskier couldn’t remember ever feeling more vulnerable.

“Yes.” Geralt said simply.

Yennefer nodded, “Yes. We do. We just weren’t sure what to do about it.”

“Well… telling me would have been preferable. Not acting like… you were plotting against me would have also been a good alternative.”

Geralt stood and walked to where Jaskier was sitting, kneeling on the ground in front of him, “We… were worried you didn’t feel the same.”

Jaskier set his plate aside and rested a hand on Geralt’s face. He took a deep breath, tears pooling in his eyes, “Geralt, I’ve been in love with you for a decade. And Yennefer, I care about you. I do. And I’m not opposed to… trying for more. With both of you. If you’ll have me?”

Yennefer stood slowly, walking across the room to sit beside Jaskier, setting a gentle hand on Jaskier’s shoulder and reaching out to hold one of Geralt’s hands with her other. “We would be honored to call you ours,” she said, placing a gentle kiss on Jaskier’s cheek.

Jaskier beamed, tears finally spilling over. Geralt reached up and wiped them away with a tender caress.

Jaskier stood quickly and cleared his throat, “I’ll be right back.”

Geralt frowned from his position on the floor, “Where are you going?”

Jaskier laughed lightly and smiled back at the witcher, his heart fluttering madly with how happy he was, “I’m going to get you another plate of food.”

Yennefer chuckled, “That’s a good idea. We’ll be waiting for you.” She leaned back on the bed and smirked at Jaskier.

Jaskier knew in that moment he was living out his wildest dreams and he couldn’t be more thrilled.

Check out my masterlist!

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#500 follower raffle #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #fanfiction #geraskifer #geraskefer #geralt of rivia #jaskier #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #ot3 #love declarations #truth potions

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feather-dancer · 3 years

Text

Tales of Arcadia Fanfic Recommendations - Part 6

I do admittedly have things left to read in my tabs I’d normally prefer to clear out before posting one of these but when you sail past the 30 mark I think it’s about time to get it out my drafts, yeah? Most importantly means this will be out before Rise of the Titans comes and emotionally destroys us all.

Needless to say soon as this is posted I give it 24 hours before 7 starts, we’ve got some amazing writers in this fandom and there’s a couple I juuust want one more chapter before I feel I can recommend it. Hope you find something you enjoy :)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here!

General Trollhunters

Romeo, Question Mark - Jim is figuring himself out and has a question for Toby though nervous of how he might react. Honestly the support Aromantic’s need when they’re either questioning or coming out, Toby is a gem.

By The Book - After his dad left changing his world Jim had moments in his life where he needed to wrangle things in a way he could understand them with some moral support along the way that wasn’t there to do it for him, just give a light nudge the right direction. Comes with light Jilaire fluff.

That I Could Fear a Door - Jim was pulled from the Darklands whole but you cannot escape the trauma of your experiences quite so easily. It will take a little time, a lot of patience and perhaps the right ear to listen but with it can come hope.

Lest Back the Awful Door Should Spring - Sequel to the above, Jim’s capture to be sentenced by the tribunal echoes his experiences in the Darklands a little too closely sending all his careful progress hurtling back in one fell swoop. Is it any wonder he chose a false freedom that Unkar offered?

Façade - The confirmation that Mr. Strickler is not the man you thought he was probably was not going to be an easy one, Jim’s thoughts sit ill after that dinner.

Fashion - All changelings take root somewhere in a human life before their changeling one succeeds it and Nomura is no different. She felt love she could not understand and the ache of loss will follow for as she meanders through this world by the Whisper Man’s orders and her own volition of needing to belong somewhere. She will try her hand with the humans and the trolls, paint the road with blood as much as indulging herself with the arts and even risking her heart until everything leads her to Arcadia’s doorstep.

In Deep Trouble - What happened in the Deep during Season 2?

Aftermath - Just after the finale of Season 2 the Market trolls are forced to run leaving their homes behind and follow the Trollhunter they had dismissed so many times into the great unknown before them.

Don’t think - Jim weighs up his options and attempts to settle his thoughts before making the final decision whether or not to go through with using Merlin’s potion.

Nocturne for a Trollhunter - Jim learns a new hobby that gives him another way to relax that doesn’t involve cooking, one that follows him beyond Arcadia.

The Asteroid - A rare 3Below fic for my lists if centered on a certain hedge witch and Wizard. The end of the world is coming but not by Morgana’s hand and Merlin certainly never warned Douxie about it so if this truly is the end then it’s the best time to bring your loved ones close so you won’t be going out alone. Yes it’s Zouxie.

A bright future so it seemed (but that light grew a little less bright) - Claire’s parents (Or more specifically Ophelia) set her on the perfectionist’s path early, even a little slip can feel like the end of the world

Rest, Master Jim - You might be able to escape the Darklands but you cannot escape the consequences of being trapped there for so long as easily.

General Wizards

Not Found - So why did neither Douxie or Archie find the two remaining changelings in Arcadia or bring back the sole Akiridion when Merlin asked?

Place of Power - A lovely bit of shameless Zouxie fluff in that brief period the gang was at Hex Tech before the plot came to get them.

Bitter Water - Only two of the old team remain in Arcadia and those were Jim and Krel, the rest having left to pursue educational pursuits and in one particular case kept away for Nari’s safety. For the Akiridion he is still here with reminders of his heritage and what it took to have this life on earth chasing him all the way. It’s always good to have friends with a listening ear and hot chocolate.

Together, Dearest - The very act of resting is a potential invitation for nightmares and Nari is no different but when once more in the waking world you will find you’re not alone, there are hugs available.

The Night Belongs To Us - Lovingly described Skraelroc fluff during their long hunt for Merlin and the strangeness that can be observed on clearer nights.

Nineteen Plus Nine Hundred, Give Or Take - 900 years is a long time by anyone’s standards but perhaps during that Douxie can figure out how to truly live.

Twelfth Century Wizard, Twenty-First Century Witch - The follow up to the above, when you’ve lived a long and interesting life things can still pop up in odd ways... Even if you haven’t quite mastered the sacred art of texting yet.

ERAS TÚ (It was you). | Tales of Arcadia One-Shot - Would you want to live forever if it meant leaving everyone behind? Jilaire.

the only way for us to go - From his rescue from the streets of Camelot to the eventual guardian of this realm, Douxie has come a very, very long way. Through the frustrations of trying to learn magic, the belittling of others, the faith of Morgana and the power of music his experiences throughout 900 years truly make him what he is.

lay down your head - Even the mightiest can be plagued with the not so humble migraine. Skraelroc fluff.

Stricklake

Merry Christmas, Doctor Lake - Some Christmas gifts are worth going all out for and getting your friends and family to help out to make it extra special.

Grocery Run - After the incident where Merlin dismissed Strickler for being a changeling it is time for an excuse to get out the house for a bit and have a frank discussion about their relationship, the future beyond the incoming battle and lingering insecurities of two worlds colliding.

Alternate Universe

Fashionista, How Do You Look? - An AU that very much takes the term very literally here where everyone is human, Skrael, Bellroc and Nari are fashion designers plus many other ToA characters we know and love are either in the industry in some way themselves or on the fringes because of their jobs/who they know. Sometimes you work with catty bitches and want to kick back and watch the fireworks you know? Contains friends to almost to enemies to friends to maybe we’ll get our shit together this time but the odds aren’t great Skraelroc. There’s also a Zouxie oneshot in this collection that was a gift for meee because of the corner I dug in the AU.

Atlas, Fallen - When a star falls from the sky it is a punishment so when Atlas suddenly finds himself amongst the humans he had observed from above for countless ages in a flesh body like theirs he fears his Mother is punishing him and unable understand what he did wrong. While trying to find his way back home he gets a crash course in what it’s like to be human making friends along the way. Slow burn Jilaire.

she once was a true love of mine - I put this under the AU section even though it wavers between that and not, a mixture of classical Arthurian mythos and the glimpses of the Camelot in Tales of Arcadia where one kingdom collapses from war another strengthens by taking their princess as queen. While Arthur might have turned her head once it is the sibling that seems to be catching Gwen’s eye of late as much as her thoughts. Morgwen but in the department of pining.

Pulled From The Ocean - AU doesn’t quite fit this one but it feels a bit more fitting than general. A little oneshot snapshot of Jim living with deafness and the contrast of one world that falls easily into supporting that whereas the other tries their best but it makes the slip ups sting even more.

you are a stranger here, why have you come? - Fate is a funny old thing, something happens a little bit differently such as a father not leaving alone and everything can change so drastically. Nari’s fondness for children strikes again and this time it involves a 5-year old Jim Lake Jr. ending in the Order’s care and their foray into found family. Somehow Jim is even more of a disaster and as likely surmised from the fact I write this trope myself I am very weak for it.

go into your local forest and you will find a friend and a boy - Toby was unlucky in the friend department and by the time he is ten he still feels miserable and lonely having to endure Steve’s increasing bullying all the while. This is of course until he finds a blue half-troll hiding out the daylight hours munching cans in the local woods...

#trollhunters #3below #Wizards #ToAWizards #Tales of Arcadia

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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years

Text

Funny Little Ups and Downs

Summary: Loki is having a bad day. The love of his life is being sent away to marry some ridiculous Vanir prince, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Then her little sister shows up to give him a pep talk.

Word Count: 3,824

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn

A/N: Sound the alarms! Alert the media! Cozy wrote something happy! I actually wrote the majority of this over three months ago, then got stuck on the ending and forgot all about it until a few days ago. It’s inspired by “I Love Melvin,” a silly little musical from 1953 starring Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor that employs my favorite trope of all time: the main character’s little sibling bonding with the romantic interest. It’s fun, it’s cute, and I just had to write it. Consider it an apology for all the angst I’ve been throwing your way XD

Warnings: None

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Spring in Asgard was truly something to behold. The last dredges of winter melted into memory, leaving behind a crispness in the air and a radiance in the land as vibrant life bloomed across the planet. It was a kind of brilliance that one could hardly resist, and so it was no surprise that the palace gardens were alive with activity— novice warriors sparring in the field, strolling couples engaged in lively conversation, giggling children chasing each other through the labyrinth of brick and shrubbery.

It seemed the very universe was mocking him.

Loki held his head in his hands, huddled in a despondent heap at the edge of the garden bench. It was truly amazing how quickly the sweet spring air turned foul. The day had started with such promise, and now …

“Hi your Highness!” Loki jumped when the little girl plopped down next to him without a warning, crumbs spilling into her braids as she munched on a cookie.

He sighed. “Oh, hello Milla.” He couldn’t say he particularly cared for company at the moment, but he couldn’t find the energy to shoo her off.

Milla studied him, chewing intently. “Are you crying?” she asked.

“Of course not!” Loki bristled. Was he now so pathetic that he was garnering the pity of a child? He huffed in indignation.

She patted his arm as if in consolation. “It’s okay to cry, Prince Loki. I cry all the time.”

Norns.

He swallowed the temptation to shove her away and abandon the bench, electing instead to change the subject. “Did Sigyn send you?”

It wouldn’t have been the first time she delegated her little sister to the position of messenger. Perhaps Milla was here with some kind of news, that the whole thing was a misunderstanding and Sigyn wasn’t getting married after all. But deep down, Loki knew that was nothing but wishful thinking. If that were the case, Sigyn would have come herself.

“No,” Milla said, dashing what little hope he had against the brick walkway. “I saw you leaving from my window. You looked sad.” She paused, cocking her head to the side. “Was Sigyn mean to you?”

It was such a childish question that Loki laughed, although there was no humor in the sound. Sigyn didn’t have a mean bone in her body. It was something of which he was in perpetual awe. It didn’t matter how badly her day had gone, how grievously she had been wronged—she always had a kind word or a sweet gesture and an eagerness to help. There was a grace about her, a grace that Loki had never seen from anyone else in court.

The way she had broke the news to him, pushing him into the hallway outside her apartment before he even had the chance to knock … it was cruel, but it wasn’t a cruelty she had chosen. He understood that at least.

Loki heaved another sigh. “It wasn’t her fault.”

For a moment, Milla was quiet. He turned away from her. It seemed he really was that pathetic.

“Sigyn got all upset after you left,” she finally said. “She went running upstairs and hid in her room. Now Daddy’s mad because Prince Sverrir is coming over and she’s not ready.” Sverrir. Loki dug his fingernails into his palms. Milla didn’t seem to notice his tension.

“Do you know Prince Sverrir?” she asked.

Loki grit his teeth. “I’ve met him.” It was astonishing how his opinion of the Vanir Crown Prince had changed from aloof indifference to outright hatred within a matter of words. Loki had known Sverrir since they were both children, when Vanaheim’s royal family had come to Asgard for a few weeks to celebrate the millennial anniversary of the end of the Aesir-Vanir War. He had found him to be tiresome as a boy, a trait that did not improve upon adulthood. Loki had avoided him when he could.

Sverrir had only become relevant to him within the last few years, when after one royal visit he began to express an interest in Sigyn Yngvarrdóttir. At this point, Sigyn and Loki had been seeing each other in secret for quite some time, and while a public courtship was still out of the question, Loki had no intention of allowing the foreign prince to pursue what he already called his own.

The court was appalled when it discovered that Sverrir had been hiring harlots and bringing them into his chambers—his guest chambers, the very rooms in which the Asgardian royal family had so kindly allowed him to stay! His insistence that he had never even interacted with the ladies of the night, let alone allowed one on to palace grounds, fell upon deaf ears and Sverrir was forced to return home to avoid further scandal. Loki remembered watching him cross the Bifrost, with his unnatural posture and his idiotic attempt at regality, certain that they’d seen the last of him.

But now here he was again, back with a few years distance and an ailing father, and suddenly every woman in Asgard was ready to fall at his feet. Which would’ve been fine, except for the fact that he decided upon the only woman who didn’t want him in return.

Loki groaned, rubbing his temples. Besides him, Milla prattled on.

“He’s very dull, isn’t he?” she was saying, brushing the cookie crumbs off the front of her dress. “The last time he came over he just sat in the parlor and talked about how much Sigyn would like Vanaheim. I don’t think she was all that interested. And he kept calling me Mina!” She scowled at the ground, as if Sverrir was there, sitting at her feet, before turning back to Loki. “I like you better. You’re nice to me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“Yeah!” she grinned, tapping his shoulder enthusiastically. “You know my name, at least. And you gave me my good-luck charm!”

She pulled the charm out from under her top, fastened to her neck by thin strip of leather. It was nothing special, just a simple wooden carving of a cat’s head that he had whittled himself during his time serving as diplomat in Alfheim. He didn’t have near the talent for woodworking of the Elven carvers, but he was patient in his practice. By the end of the trip, he had spent hours upon hours working on the carving of a wolf’s head, Sigyn’s favorite animal, to give to her upon his return. Milla’s cat had been something of an afterthought. Still, he hadn’t been able to hide his smile at the way she squealed in delight when he presented it to her, and Sigyn had seemed more touched by the fact that he thought of her sister than at her own gift.

“Has it worked for you?” he asked.

“I think so,” Milla said, running her finger across the cat’s ear. “Good things happen when I wear it.”

Loki laughed bitterly. He could use a bit of that now. “Have good things happened today?”

She didn’t look up. “I’m still waiting to find out.”

A silence fell over the two of them, heavy and stiff. He wondered what Sigyn was doing, if she was still hiding in her room as her sister claimed. She had been waiting for him that morning, ready to push him out into the hall with shaking hands the moment he arrived at her doorstep. He knew immediately that she had been crying—if her swollen eyes weren’t enough of a giveaway, then the little hiccupping gasps that peppered her words certainly were.

“You can’t be here right now,” she had hissed. “If Father sees you, he’ll lose his mind!”

“What happened?”

“Sverrir made an offer for my hand. My father—Loki, he accepted.”

It had taken a moment for those words to sink in. When they had, he had demanded to speak with her father.

“Loki—”

“He can’t do this! He can’t sell you off like cattle—”

Only he could, and they both knew it.

“Prince Loki?” He turned away from his thoughts and back to Milla. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, her voice suddenly very small. “Is Sigyn going to marry Sverrir?”

Loki found he couldn’t answer. There was a threatening lump in the back of his throat, making him unwilling to trust his voice. Sigyn … she was always supposed to marry him. He had been sure of it from the moment he met her, back when they were taking their lessons together. He had pretended to trip when walking by her desk and spilled his potion all over the floor just to have an excuse to talk to her. Thor had rolled his eyes when he heard of it (“could you not just speak to her like a normal person?”), but Sigyn had laughed and offered to help him clean it up, just like the angel she was. And when class ended, he offered to walk her back to her apartment.

Sigyn had smiled, that shy little smile she seemed to reserve for only him. “I’d be honored, my prince.”

Loki was smitten.

And now he was heartbroken.

“You know she doesn’t want to marry him, right?” Milla asked, tugging at his sleeve. “She doesn’t even like him.”

Loki inhaled. “Marriage isn’t just about who you like.” Sigyn had explained this to him just now in the hallway. Her family may have been prestigious in her great-grandfather’s heyday, but a series of poor investments and bad choices had set them on a steady decline. Her marriage to Sverrir would secure their position permanently. Her father would condemn her to a life of loneliness to maintain their status. And Sigyn would accept it, because she was far too good a person to refuse. “You have to think about your future, and your family, and Sverrir is a prince—”

“But you’re a prince too!”

“I don’t have a throne.” Loki sighed. He had never been jealous of Thor’s position as Crown Prince, not really—kingship came with hundreds of little hinderances and headaches that Loki was perfectly content to live without. But if he could stand before Sigyn’s father, not as Odin’s forgotten son but as Asgard’s future ruler … well, he wouldn’t be having to stomach discussion about some Vanir prince, that was for sure.

Milla yanked on his sleeve even harder. “But Sigyn loves you.”

Loki’s eyes widened. “She told you that?”

“No.” She said. “But I know she does. She reads your poems every night before she goes to bed.”

He flushed crimson. “Does she?” Oh, those poems. He had never considered himself to be much of a poet, but there was a soft sense of familiarity in words that he had never found anywhere else. And Sigyn … how could one not write about Sigyn?

He never had the courage to read them to her in person, silly, romantic things that they were. Instead he kept to leaving them hidden in spots where only she would find them—wrapped up in her napkin at dinner, buried in her bag at the healing ward, slipped into her dress pocket as they danced. She never said anything about them to him, but he lived for the way she’d squeeze his hand after he passed one to her.

Milla nodded, grinning. “She has them all in a little book, and she keeps it under her pillow.” Loki smiled too at the image, just for a moment, but then reality came crashing back down. She could hold on to as many poems as he could write—it still wouldn’t change anything. He buried his face in his hands once more.

He felt another tug at his sleeve, and he turned to find himself face-to-face with a creased brow. “You love her too, don’t you?” Milla asked. “That’s why you’re so upset.”

Loki huffed. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does! It has too!” she insisted, shaking his arm. “You can make it matter.”

“Make it matter?” Suddenly, looking at her there, with her braids and her “good luck” charms and her childish hope was too much to bear. “What would you have me do?” he snapped. “Kidnap your sister?”

Milla flinched. “No … But—”

“There isn’t any ‘but.’ Your father will never allow her to settle for me when there’s a superior option. My father will never care enough to intervene on my behalf.” Norns knew he had tried. But Odin had nothing to gain from a marriage between Loki and Sigyn, and if Odin had nothing to gain, he saw no reason to act. “It’s useless to pretend otherwise. Now are you just going to sit here and bother me all day or do you have somewhere else to be?”

She gulped, abandoning her place besides him on the bench. “I’m sorry, your Highness. I’ll go.” Loki watched her slink off back towards the palace, head down like a whipped pup. Somehow, he felt even worse.

…

Dinner was miserable.

Loki picked at his food out of a sense of courtesy, with no real appetite to be found. How could he eat, when four seats to his right Sverrir was regaling his audience with descriptions of his perfect bride-to-be? The prince hadn’t yet mentioned Sigyn by name, but he didn’t have to. Loki could see the way his gaze lingered on her table as he described her “perfect form.”

It made him sick.

He had still barely touched his meal by the time many of the merrymakers had moved to the dance floor. Sverrir had gone, too—Loki watched him practically slither across the room to Sigyn’s side to ask her for a dance, watched Sigyn’s nearly imperceptible nod in assent. Now, they commanded the whole of the floor, gliding through the steps as flawlessly as a couple could, Sverrir grinning ear to ear and Sigyn the epitome of quiet repose.

Loki wished he could return to his rooms. He didn’t want to sit there, watching his heart spin and twirl in the hands of another man. But he couldn’t seem to rip his gaze away from her. Her sea-blue skirt matched Sverrir’s cape as it twisted about her, giving her the appearance of some sort of oceanic goddess. He wanted to hate the color, but of course it was beautiful on her. Everything was beautiful on her.

“Prince Loki!”

He was startled out of his despondent silence by the child shrieking his name. Loki barely had the chance to turn around before Milla was upon him, grabbing at his arm and trying to pull him to his feet.

He frowned. “What are you doing up here?”

“Come on!” She yanked at his cape. “You have to dance with Sigyn.”

Wary of making a scene, and too flustered to push her away, Loki stood. “Milla, I—”

“You have to,” she insisted, giving him a push towards the dance floor. “Go! Dance with her!”

He stumbled forward, but the little girl kept corralling him down the podium stairs, towards Sigyn and her aggravating prince.

“Milla!” he hissed. “Can’t you see she’s already dancing with someone?”

“Who cares?” she hissed back, shoving him again. “Dance with her!”

And so Loki made his way down to the dance floor, cheeks burning, holding himself with as much dignity as one could after a literal child herded them like a sheep away from their meal. Luckily, few in the the ballroom seemed to be paying him any mind.

One of the positives of being the forgotten son, he supposed.

Sverrir and Sigyn were in the middle of the floor, still wrapped up in the music. At least, Sverrir was. Sigyn was holding herself as if someone had strapped a wooden board down her back. He couldn’t remember a time where he had seen her so tense. The sight made Loki stiffen.

With a sudden burst of confidence, he tapped on the Vanir prince’s shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said, not bothering to hide the tightness in his voice. “Would you mind if I cut in?”

Sverrir started. “Oh. Uh—” he glanced back at Sigyn. “Do you mind, darling?”

She shook her head, features still perfectly neutral. Only then did Loki notice that, while she was wearing blue, the ribbons weaved through her braids were emerald green.

“Oh!” Sverrir seemed surprised, but quickly shook it off. “Well, then, of course not!” He stepped aside, making a grand gesture towards Sigyn as Loki took his place in her arms with a rigid nod.

For a moment, they only stared at each other, slowly swaying to the notes of the waltz in silence. Sigyn looked away first, turning to watch her feet on floor as if she were a girl in pigtails still learning to dance.

Loki swallowed the desert on his tongue. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Well enough, I suppose,” she murmured. When she looked up again, her eyes were glossy, her features twisted in an attempt to hold back the tears. “Loki—I’m sorry.”

There was a lump in the back of his throat. He wished he could hold her to his chest, cup her cheek and promise her that everything was fine. Instead, he only shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I just …” She inhaled. “I wish things were different.”

Don’t we both?

“Is he kind to you at least?” he asked. He would at least be able to rest easier knowing that Sigyn was well cared for, and as irritating as Sverrir was, Loki had never seen anything to suggest that he was cruel. Although … he almost wished Sverrir was a beast of a man—horrible, vicious, barbarous— just so he could have another reason to despise him.

Sigyn shrugged. “He talks a lot.”

“Oh? About what?”

“Absolutely nothing!” she cried. “I’ve never heard of a man who could go on so long without a single thing to say. It makes my head ache.” Sigyn sighed. “But Father finds him interesting.”

Loki scoffed. “Your father would be fascinated by grass growing.”

She laughed. “Probably.”

They danced in silence for a while longer. He liked the silence—the soft, soothing movement was almost enough to make him forget why this night was different from every other he had spent dancing with her. But soon enough, the song came to an end, and he made ready to bid her farewell.

A familiar voice cleared his throat, rasping across the hall. The hum of conversation stopped as everyone turned to face the royal podium, where Prince Sverrir stood, smiling over the masses.

“Ladies and gentleman, if I may have your attention!” he called. “I would like to make an announcement.”

“Here we go,” whispered Sigyn. She reached out to grasp Loki’s hand.

When the crowd thronged around the podium had appeared to reach a size to his liking, Sverrir continued.

“As many of you know,” he said. “My father’s health has been failing for the past several months, and he has voiced that it is his greatest wish to see me married before he passes. Therefore, I am overjoyed to announce my engagement to one of your very own Asgardian ladies—” He stretched his hand out towards Sigyn, grinning widely as the rest of the nobles whipped around to follow his gaze. “The lovely Lady Sigyn Yngvarrdóttir!”

The ballroom erupted into applause. Sigyn sighed, but quickly masked it with a gracious smile, letting go of Loki’s hand in order to make her way to the podium.

To her fiancé.

Loki didn’t even think. When he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to his side, he was acting off pure instinct.

“That’s impossible!” he cried to the crowd, to Sverrir. “Completely impossible, your Highness. She can’t marry you.”

The applause fizzled out as quickly as it begun. Confused whispers began skating through the onlookers.

“Loki!” Sigyn hissed. “What are you doing?”

Above them all, Sverrir frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Prince Loki,” he said. “Lord Yngvarr had given me his permission, and Lady Sigyn has accepted. Why can I not marry her?”

Loki didn’t blink. “Because she’s already married to me.”

The crowd exploded into outraged gasps.

Besides him, a wicked grin was blooming across Sigyn’s face.

Sverrir seemed to have been rendered incapable of response. He stood stuttering on the podium, any words he did manage drowned out by the commotion of the entire court processing what was turning out to be even more of a scandal than the last time the Vanir prince came to visit.

Until finally one voice cut through the chaos.

“Liar!” yelled Yngvarr, pushing his way through the crowd. “My daughter would not betray her family in such a manner.” He turned back to Sverrir, fuming. “Your Highness, I’m afraid Prince Loki seems to be playing a prank, and a decidedly unfunny one at that, at the expense of my daughter’s reputation.”

Loki opened his mouth to protest his offense, but before he could find the words, yet another voice joined the foray of madness.

“It’s not a prank, Daddy!” Milla grinned, materializing seemingly out of thin air to pull at her father’s sleeve. “It’s real! I heard them talking about it a week ago.”

Yngvarr whipped around so quickly that one of his whiskers caught on his shoulder plate. “What?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded. “Prince Loki came through the window! They were talking about how they were going to get married as soon as possible, because they love each other so much and they’re soulmates and … and …” she trailed off, seeming to only just be realizing that every pair of eyes in the ballroom was on her.

“And what?” snapped Yngvarr.

Sigyn stepped forward. “And I’m pregnant!”

The roar was deafening.

She turned back towards Loki with a smirk. He could only gape at her.

“What?” she asked. “Did you think I was going to let you have all the fun?”

Loki didn’t bother trying to find words. He just planted his lips on to hers. “I love you,” he whispered when he pulled away. He had never meant anything more in his life.

She laughed. “What now?”

“Well,” he said, grinning as he offered her his arm. “It seems we have to get married. After that—” he stopped abruptly. There was something in his pocket, something that he knew hadn’t been there before, bulky and solid. Frowning, he pulled it out to find the rough carving of a cat’s head tied to a loop of worn leather.

He looked up again in confusion. His eyes landed on Milla, beaming at him from across the room. She winked.

Good things happen when I wear it.

Loki smiled, slipping the charm back into his pocket. Next to him, Sigyn tugged at his arm.

“After that?” she repeated.

“After that?” he shrugged, smirking. “We improvise.”

#loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki x sigyn #funny little ups and downs #cozy writes

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