#Sorry I had to ask *you* for your own birthday gift XD

[axolotlsupremacyowo]

Find the Word...again!

Hello! Welcome to another installment of Find the Word, except this time...mega! Decided to give this game a little comeback, and this time it's punching back with a vengeance! This time, 10 words! Woah! That's a lot! But it's to make up for being gone for so long XD.

As for who I'll tag? Ofc those are my besties @mikaharuka @udaberriwrites @mrsmungus @bleepbloopbotz @bees-and-sunshine @aislinnstanaka @tsunderesalty @fattybattysblog @lena-hills @oceangirl24 @sliebman10 @0nelittlebirdtoldme @kayedium-writes! And of course, anyone who wants to can join :3

Now, for the words!

Words for me!

hover, divorce, certain, dirty, plan, cold, sting, widen, agency, prefer

Words for YOU!

tile, gown, foundation, fuss, overlook, sniff, infinite, trouble, clay, personality

Now! on to the snippets we go!

Hover (Green Emeralds and High Tides, Chapter 6)

“So…what do we do now?” Wocky asked. “I need someone to hold their hand over mine, while I say the chant.” Apollo explained, hovering one of his hands over the plants. “The Fop can do it.” Ema spoke up. Klavier was surprised. “H-Hä? I can?” Ema gave Klavier an unimpressed look, as she then whispered to him. “You want to get closer to Apollo, don’t you? Now’s your chance, Captain Fop.” “I suppose I can…” Klavier trailed off. “What are you waiting for then? Come here.” Apollo basically commanded Klavier looked to his crew, who were grinning and giving him thumbs-ups, before he went over and kneeled next to Apollo. Apollo grabbed his hands and placed them on his own, and Klavier felt his heart jump at that. He watched as Apollo closed his eyes, and then…he started chanting “Xpooir tpogq afh gjsw, mrdwv omv wsxczjud iyww.” Apollo began to chant To his surprise, the plants that Apollo hovered his hands over started to glow, He almost jumped back, turning to his crew. His crew seemed surprised too, watching fearfully and in awe. He looked back to Apollo, and he noticed that symbols, almost as though they were drawn on his skin, were glowing too. They grew brighter and brighter with every word that Apollo chanted.

Divorce, Sting (Yours Truly Franziska von Karma, Chapter 1)

Maya nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Ohhh, I see. Well, your parents must be proud of you, then!” Franziska felt a sting of pain at that statement. She knew that Maya meant no harm, and she probably didn’t know about her parent’s divorce, but it still hurt nonetheless “My Papa is, but my Mama isn’t.” “Huh? Why?” Maya asked, confused. “Mama and Papa…they disagree on a lot of things.” Franziska said. Maya was still confused. “What do you mean by that?” “My father and mother are divorced.” Franziska clarified. Maya frowned. “Oh…I’m so sorry…” “Do not say sorry, Maya Fey. You are not the cause of the divorce.” Franziska said. “Still, it must suck.” Maya said, then adding much more cautiously. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, my dad died…Not that it will, sorry for making this about myself. I’m so selfish…” She had mumbled out the last part, looking away in shame. (This girl is…comforting me…) Franziska smiled. (Oh, you foolishly foolish fool…)

Certain (To Maya Fey)

Franziska had a problem, and her name was Maya Fey. Now Franziska was the very definition of a workaholic. If the dictionary definition of the word workaholic had pictures then a photo of Franziska would no doubt be on there. She had dedicated her entire life into prosecution, and by entire life it really was her entire life. Franziska was pretty sure she started reading books about law ever since she could read, and she started reading when she was only 3 years old. Every Christmas and every birthday celebration, she would be gifted with law books and whips, gifts that she accepted with enthusiasm. Once she was 13 she had taken the bar exam and passed, and she had been prosecuting ever since. For all intents and purposes, there was not a prosecutor in the world who was more focused on their job than Franziska von Karma. But even the mightiest falter, and lately Franziska seemed to be distracted by a certain someone. That someone was Maya Fey. All she could think about was Maya Fey. Maya Fey this, Maya Fey that, all her mind focused on was Maya Fey. When she should have been thinking about how to properly obliterate the secondhand defense attorney she was supposed to be going against, she instead found herself thinking of the foolish mountain girl that had somehow won her heart. It was infuriating really, how much Maya Fey occupied Franziska’s mind. All Franziska could think about was her dark blue eyes that always seemed shining and lively, her wide toothy grin that brightened up the moods of anyone who saw it, her clear loud melodic voice that Franziska loved to hear, her soft beautiful long black hair that was downright radiant, her happy infectious laugh that always managed to make Franziska’s heart skip a beat- Goddammit, she was doing it again.

Dirty (Yours Truly Franziska von Karma, Chapter 7)

“…Do you miss her?” Franziska asked in a mere whisper. Heidi sighed. “I do, every single day of my life I miss Frieda.” “I just wish…that things turned out differently. That she’d…” Franziska trailed off. “…That she’d still be with us.” Heidi finished for her. “Yes, exactly.” The gravestone was slightly dirty, though it was obvious that attempts to clean it were made. (Mama is just another death in this cemetery, another person who lost their life…) It was odd, how a life with rich history, a life that lit up the lives of others, could be turned into a mere statistic. Another number to add to the thousands of numbers, and nothing more. (But Mama is not just a statistic, she’s more than that. Mama is…she’s a person.) That thought shouldn’t have surprised Franziska as much as it did, but it did. (Is that not also what the victims of my trials are? People? Yet, my whole career I’ve been treating them like statistics…)

Plan (Snowball Fights and Laughter)

Franziska smiled at the sight of it, her aunt’s backyard covered in snow. That was, until she felt a snowball pelted at the back of her head. She turned around to the source of said snowball, smiling when she saw Maya grinning at her. “Gotcha, Franzy!” Franziska smiled, a plan forming in her head. “I really do love you, Maya Fey.” “I love you too Franzy- WOAH!” Maya yelped as a snowball hit her right in the face. Franziska snickered. “NOT FAIR, FRANZY! That’s cheating!” Maya said. “And so is hitting someone distracted with a snowball, Maya Fey.” Franziska replied. “Oh! You’re gonna get it!”

Cold (Things Left Unsaid)

Miles held his breath, waiting for Phoenix to say what they both knew. Things that they both sensed in each other, the things that they never truly told each other, the things that they felt they couldn’t tell each other. But now more than ever, Miles wanted to tell him, wanted to hear it back in Phoenix’s voice, be it soft and gentle or loud and determined. Those words, he wanted to hear those three words. However, it was too late. Phoenix’s eyes fluttered close, and Miles knew that they would never open again, that he’d never hear those three words that he wanted to hear, that he had waited to hear. Miles was openly weeping now, his sobs the only sound in the room and in the dead of night. Nothing mattered in this world, the whole world seeming to fall apart as the man Miles had loved for years laid in his arms, warmth slowly ebbing from the empty vessel that used to be Phoenix. “…I love you, Phoenix.” Miles whispered in between his tears. But Phoenix never heard it. Miles held Phoenix’s cold hand, knowing he would never hear the things left unsaid.

Widen (Complete Breakfasts in Bed)

As soon as Dickon spotted him, his face lit up in a smile as he realizes what was happening. His eyes were wide and excited as he watched Sebastian set the tray on the bed, turning to Sebastian with a grin. “Sebby- this is so- it’s really- for me?!” Dickon stammered excitedly. “Of course, Konnie. It’s for you.” “I didn’t even know you could cook complete breakfasts! I thought you hated them.” “Oh, I do. But you like them, so I cooked them for you.” Sebastian said, then gently pushing the tray towards Dickon, making sure that the milk and food didn’t spill. “C’mon, eat. I spent a lot of time on these.” Dickon needed no further convincing, picking up a fork and immediately dug in. As soon as he had stuffed his face with food, his eyes widened. “Theshe awre dewishoush!” “Ew. Swallow your food, Konnie.” “Own! Oshkay!” Dickon swallowed his food, and then he repeated himself. “These are delicious, Sebby!” “Heh, thanks. I hoped they would be.” Dickon was still grinning. “This is…Yoba, Sebby! This is so thoughtful of you! I didn’t think you’d ever do this for me!” “Hey, I love you to death. I’ll gladly do a lot of stuff to make you happy.” Sebastian said.

Agency (Apollo's Real Totally Not Fictional Boyfriend)

The Wright Anything Agency had become a familiar sight to Klavier at this point, and so had the people who called the agency their second home. Not only Trucy Wright and Apollo Justice, but the original member Phoenix Wright too. Klavier remembered when he still didn’t see Phoenix much, when he only saw him whenever he spent time with Edgeworth. Now though, Klavier saw much more of him, especially with the more time he spent in the Wright Anything Agency. Klavier had no problems with this, he really didn’t. He still felt a little guilty about getting Phoenix disbarred sure, but Apollo had forced the two to discuss that, and Phoenix had told him that there were no hard feelings. Klavier was relieved, and he was forever grateful that he could now call Phoenix a…friendly acquaintance. Not a friend yet, but they were on the path to there. Klavier looked up at the Wright Anything Agency. This place…he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it. A sight for sore eyes. He walked up to the door, knocking on it. Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for someone to answer, and it happened to be Phoenix. Phoenix, in all his dark gray hoodie jacket and stubbled face glory, cyan beanie and a smile on his face.

Prefer (Ace Attorney: Maya Fey, Chapter 22)

Maya walked through the woods trail carefully, her winter boots crunching through the dirt in the path. Phoenix walked beside her, the two walking in a comfortable silence the entire way there. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the trails, dusty dirt path, leafy foliage on the bushes, and trees that loomed over them becoming practically familiar to them. They had a destination though, a place that they had to go to, the boat rental shop. (We gotta get to the boat rental shop, we gotta! The answers to our questions are probably all in there!) Maya thought to herself, putting her hands in her winter coat’s pockets to warm them up. (Geez, it’s cold! I mean, it’s winter…but still!) Glancing at the trees that surrounded them, Maya noticed that the trees were still bare, even the bushes less vibrant than they probably were in the spring. (I’ll make sure to visit these parks when it’s spring, preferably without a murder case on my hands…) Maya imagined the parks during the spring, vibrant green grass and blooming flowers. Or even autumn, with falling orange leaves and her boots crunching on the fallen brown leaves. Soon, as Phoenix and Maya continued to walk, they made it to the boat rental shop, Maya grinning as she saw the now familiar building. (Aha! Here we are!) “Here we are.” Phoenix remarked. (Hey! That’s what I thought!) “Yep! Here we are!” Maya replied.

[gendervapor14]

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

9. How do you find new fic to read?

10. How do you decide what to write?

(if not answered already), and 37 & 38! Fanfic ask meme❤️

ooh hello!! thank you for these!! i did answer #38, but i'll answer #37 for sure!

8. What song would make a great fic (to either write or read)?

ooooo as a music nerd i love this question and i apologize for how longwinded my answer is XD i don't do many songfics or much song-related writing [*shoves the title of two fights for freedom under the rug*] but i do have a ton of playlists and songs that make me think of specific characters or fics. to answer this question, i'll just pick one called "Fever Dream" by Dirt Poor Robins. specifically the part starting just after the 4:00 minute mark. the lyrics make me go INSANE with this idea for a dark/horror dq bros fic where doflamingo realizes that corazon is just a false identity and he can't do anything to get his brother back and it drives him even more insane. these lyrics make me crazy Now here comes the liar (lion) Clawing at your door Drunk on the blood of your brother And he's back for more (apparently the lyric is actually "lion" rather than "liar", but i hear "liar" so therefore i declare it is "liar" for the sake of my own brainrot) imagine a fic where rosinante is the one psychologically tormenting doflamingo!! unsure if i'll ever get around to writing it, but it'd probably have a similar vibe to blood gone sour.

9. How do you find new fic to read?

i usually do a nightly prowl under the one piece fandom on ao3 and either filter by most recent fics with rosinante or bell-mere. otherwise i read recs that are bumped on discord servers, or stories friends write! i'm actually terrible at reading tho i don't read nearly enough. when i have free time, i usually use it to create.

10. How do you decide what to write?

excellent question. i make a list of priorities. sometimes it's disorganized lists on my phone, sometimes i use calendars. first and foremost are things with due dates, so zine work, or gifts for exchanges, birthdays or holidays. next i prioritize stories that are works in progress, but already posted on ao3. i hate having incomplete works posted on ao3, so i strive to get them wrapped up asap. then it's a rabid thunderdome of all my other wips and ideas all wrestling for victory for who gets to be created XD i'm constantly bursting with ideas i never get to work on, unfortunately.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

i'm gonna go ahead and promote spitfire and ice because i busted my ass on this for the crackpair event and i was actually really happy with the result? i was assigned makino x kuzan, so i threw bell-mere in there too just to shake things up, and then i fell madly in love with bell-mere x makino and their flirty banter. it captured my heart in a way i was NOT expecting. i guess the tags aren't particularly interesting to most, so it's relatively unknown with only 4 kudos and 31 hits. but look at this!! “Hey, I’ve gotta ask you something.” She leaned over the counter once Makino settled herself and refilled the pitcher for the next round. “Would I still be wanted here…after hours?” With a tight smile, Makino rested her hands over the tabletop. “We’re closed for customers after hours. I need some time to tidy up the place.” “Right, right…” Pretty gray eyes wandered. “But in this situation, I wouldn’t be a customer.” With an amused chuckle, Makino folded her arms over her stomach. “What do you want me to say, Miss Bell-mère? Do you want me to welcome you to my private quarters upstairs?” That exposed chest filled with air. “I wouldn’t be against an invitation.” smh. well, at least i'm proud of it!

ahhh sorry i got so rambly XD i had fun answering these! thank you so much for the questions!! here's the list if anyone else has a question, or wants to reblog it for themselves!

[frozenrose105]

Whumptober Day 2

Prompts: Nowhere to run

Characters: Malik, Kieran

For @thewraithrevived (v late birthday gift xD I'm sorry)

======================

There were few men more difficult to kill than the king of Hell. Malik was heavily guarded most of the time, and besides that he was incredibly powerful himself. He had to be, to earn his position in the first place. Indeed, the queen before him was also one of the most powerful demons in Hell- the demon of Envy, in fact- and now she sat rotting in the castle's dungeon at Malik's command.

Malik had confidence in his ability to outmaneuver or kill any threat that came his way, and he paid close attention to determine who was a threat. However, that watch didn't always extend to his loved ones. Perhaps it should have, as some enemies would come to the conclusion that the only way to strike at him was to get close. But Malik trusted them with his life, and he didn't let anyone close who he didn't.

That was why it was such a surprise when one of his advisors came to him with news of betrayal amongst them.

"The one called Kieran," his advisor said after pulling them into a private room within the castle. "I know he's your mate, sire, but I've heard word that his next moves within his own kingdom are contrary to what he's told you."

"And?" Malik asked with a raised eyebrow. "Our goals are very different, but we've come to an agreement and he isn't required to report his every movement to me. He is allowed to rule his kingdom as he sees fit, and I'm sure we will speak in the near future."

"It's more than that." Malik didn't fail to notice the urgency with which he spoke, and it gave him pause. "He intends to march his army against yours. ...And I believe he intends to kill you himself." The advisor had been previously employed by Malik's parents, and although he no longer needed him, Malik had taken him on when they died. As a result he knew the man well and trusted his word- but there had to be some mistake here. A miscommunication, perhaps, because through all of Malik's trust issues he was sure his mates wouldn't kill him for their own benefit.

"What makes you believe such a thing? That is a serious accusation," Malik began, his eyes piercing as he met the others' in warning. His words were slow. Dangerous. "...One that I will not be quick to forgive if it turns to be false."

"...Of course. This comes from one in my own network, though I took the liberty of sending more to confirm and learn more of the issue upon hearing of it. I knew you would want to be sure."

Malik did want to be sure, but even with the assurance he was having a difficult time believing it. Why would Kieran- now, of all times- choose to betray and kill Malik? Had something changed? Had this been inevitable from the beginning, and Malik too blinded by the feelings he'd developed to realize it? ...He didn't think so. Kieran had broken their deal and left Malik for dead when Sammael had marched on him, but that was a long time ago. That was before they had children. They had children, surely- there was a mistake. Because it was then that it dawned on him what he would have to do, if this was true. That regardless of who came out victorious, some of his children would lose a parent.

So yes, Malik- needed to be sure, before he could chose a course of action. He needed to hear Kieran's side. "...I will speak with him." This was said after a long period in which Malik didn't even realize he'd fallen silent, and it was then that he met the advisor's eyes again.

"Perhaps that's not a good idea," the advisor was quick to add. "The glitch is powerful, the element of surprise would give you an advantage." Malik considered it, but only for a moment. He wouldn't harm Kieran if he could help it, certainly not without confirmation of his advisors words.

"Thank you for your input." He nodded to his advisor, who stood watching Malik with a neutral expression, before warping out of the room and directly to Kieran's castle.

He caught the man walking down a hall towards the throne room, but he stopped suddenly upon seeing Malik in his way. Although Malik tried to retain his normal stoicism, Kieran must have been able to sense his worry, because after his initial surprise there was only question and guarded tenseness on Kieran's face.

"...Something the matter?" The accent Kieran donned was something that had become familiar to Malik over the years, and he even took comfort from that which used to be attributed to the enemy.

"...I'm not sure." Malik's words now came careful, himself guarded as he glanced towards the throne room. Just down the hall, he could see movement of what he assumed were guards and the first of the civilians coming to request an audience with their king. He didn't want the conversation to be heard by prying ears, nor did he care to be interrupted. "Perhaps we could speak in private, if you could spare a moment."

Upon Kieran agreeing, they were warped all the way back to Malik's own castle, into his office. Although he had a desk and a chair in there as well as a couch, Malik remained standing and so did Kieran. "One of my advisors came to me with a concern," Malik began, watching Kieran's reactions carefully. He decided that the best way to do this was to simply speak it, and deal with whatever came. "...He seems to believe that you intend to betray me. .....To kill me, ultimately."

At those words, Kieran's eyes narrowed some, darkening as he looked to Malik. "...And you believe him."

Malik hesitated, still watching his mate closely. "....If I did, then I wouldn't simply be telling you." It was a truth they both knew once it was spoken. Malik was a man of action, and a man who would do what he had to do regardless of how it hurt him. His subconscious disbelief was what made him disregard his advisor's input. "I told him that he must be mistaken, but I cannot leave such rumors unaddressed."

Kieran smiled dangerously at that, the signature smile that most only saw before he killed them, or as he made them his puppet. "I'll tell you what the fucking mistake was." Then the green of Kieran's aura was shooting out- though not towards Malik. No, it was moving through the castle, effortlessly stringing the very advisor that had spoken to Malik of the alleged betrayal, and marching him right into Malik's office. The advisor looked simultaneously terrified and infuriated, his eyes flicking from Kieran to Malik, who he looked to as though for help. Malik only waited. "Your advisor's been sticking his nose into my fucking business, whispering about all these plans. ....He wanted to give you reason to kill me, but I don't think he knew who the fuck he was playing games with." Kieran tilted his head, still smiling that dangerous smile, and Malik saw the metal of his blade flip out and press against his advisor's back. "Been waiting a minute for him to make a move."

Malik's own eyes darkened as he listened to Kieran speak, and he turned his eyes to his advisor. The man was struggling against Kieran's aura despite the knife held against him, but Kieran was stronger than him and Malik wasn't inclined to help. He wanted Malik to kill Kieran? His own mate? There were few things which angered Malik more than deception and people trying to harm those he loved, and the flare of his aura reflected that anger now. And how had Malik not heard word of the man's betrayal? How many within his own network were helping him? Enough that Kieran knew of it, at least. He would have some work to do, once his advisor was dealt with.

"Is that so? And what reason, pray tell, would he have for that?" The question was in response to Kieran's words, but it was directed at his advisor, crimson eyes piercing once again as he stared him down. There was no pretense, no facade in place to convince Malik otherwise. No, Malik only saw growing hatred in the other's expression as Kieran continued to hold him there. He knew whose word Malik would take, and he finally stopped fighting to meet Malik's eyes.

"There was a day when you'd have called this glitch an enemy. Keeping your enemies close I understand, but to romance him? To do anything other than kill him upon learning of potential betrayal?" His lip curled. "The Malik I knew would have done so without a second thought, and he'd have taken his kingdom while he was at it. Your parents raised you as such. ...Oh, but they're dead, and you've changed in the years since then. Softened. Stagnated. Blinded yourself to even my deception." There was a wry laugh then, and he spat on the floor at Malik's feet. "You are no longer worthy of the Vinir name, and I will not serve you."

The heat of Malik's aura could be felt throughout the room, painful to the touch as it lapped at his former advisor's skin like flames. He couldn't be bothered to control it at the moment, nor did he care to. The man had tried to have his mate killed, had deceived and insulted him, and finally had renounced his loyalty. The demon lord's rage was palpable as he stepped forward and gripped his chin harshly, forcing him to continue to look at him.

When Malik spoke, his voice was low and dangerous, a demonic growl slipping through. "You are pathetic." His grip tightened, and he could feel bones crushing. And oh, the satisfaction it brought him to hear the pained cry that came from the other's lips. His own smile fell into place, as dangerous as Kieran's. "....So stuck in the past, so discontent with the present, so unwilling to accept that you are nothing." Then he released the man, straightening and folding his hands behind his back as he looked down at him. "....But you will realize in time, and I will enjoy every moment until you do."

Malik didn't wait for any kind of response- not that the man could give one- before he warped out of his office and down to the very dungeons in which the previous queen of Hell was kept. He paid neither her nor anyone else down there any mind, instead appearing outside of an empty cell, waiting. Malik didn't need to speak, didn't need to beckon. He knew that Kieran would follow, and he would show the advisor just how wrong he was.

[theshatteredrose]

Nugatory: The Secret War (Chapter 26) - Disgaea 5 Fanfiction

AN: Sorry for not updating last week. I was very, very sick. Felt like death warmed up, which was fun. Anyway, updating a day early this week as it’s my birthday XD Anyway, hope you enjoy reading~!

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FFNet

-

Chapter 26:

Staring out at the endless expanse of the Netherverse, Samuel kept the blanket tucked tightly around his shoulders as he leaned his elbows on the railing. A full day had passed and Samuel had been permitted to leave his hospital bed and walk about freely. With a few limitations, of course; absolutely no training.

In all honesty, Samuel did not feel like touching a weapon for a while.

He reached up and grasped his shoulder; not that he needed weapons to be violent.

“Hey, Samuel.”

Samuel dropped his hand from his shoulder and turned around. He idly tugged at the blanket, drawing it closer out of instinct as Zeroken walked toward him, in his arms a few pieces of folded cloth.

“Here,” he said as he lifted the objects toward him. “I got the weapon shop to make you a few of your vests in different materials. I know you feel better when your back is covered.”

“Really?”

He must admit he was surprised. He could not recall receiving such a gift from anyone before in his life. He had received small gifts, like little stones or small flowers from the Halflings, the children, under his care.

The kids…

Samuel forced a smile to his lips and retrieved the clothing. “Wolf Pup, thank you, that’s very considerate of you.”

He set the clothing upon the railing he had been previously leaning against and quickly slipped the blanket from his shoulders. He grabbed at the gift that Zeroken had so generously given him, only to realize that he had actually gifted him three different vests, each made to his measurements, and to his liken.

Zeroken had put quite a bit of consideration into his gift, hadn’t he…?

Taking one of the vests, Samuel flared it over his shoulders and quickly slipped his arms through the sleeves. The material was soft against the skin that was free from the bandages, but felt sturdy, granting him some protecting in battle. Once he returned to the battlefield.

He…would return. Of course, he would. There was still a war to be fought and won.

“How does it feel?” Zeroken asked him, anxious for his answer.

“It’s very comfortable,” Samuel replied with a genuine smile as he did up the buckle at the collar. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He truly did feel better, wearing something resembling his previous vest. No, it felt better than his previous piece of clothing. His first vest was from necessity, to keep his back covered, away from prying eyes. His current vest was vastly different. He could feel the quality and craftmanship in it by simply touching it.

“Samuel?”

“Hm?”

Zeroken fidgeted on his feet. “Um, I just wanted to say; I have trust in you, too.”

Samuel turned to look at him, a little taken aback by his words. They came out of the blue, honestly. “Zeroken?”

Zeroken straightened his posture and tightened his shoulders, attempting to look more confident. “If someone like me can become Overlord to his heart, then you can, too.”

“Oh, Wolf Pup.” Samuel sighed and shook his head. Him, an Overlord? If only. “I wish I was as strong as you.”

“But you are,” Zeroken insisted, almost childishly. “You’re stronger than me.”

That was very sweet. He was wrong, but it was a sweet thing to say. Zeroken was clearly trying to cheer him up. Samuel wondered if Killia had said something to him, and the others, or if they were seeking him out on their own accord.

That was also very sweet. And much appreciated. But his heart was too heavy, in too much pain to truly accept their efforts.

“Zero, can I ask you something?”

Zeroken perked up. “What is it?”

Samuel leaned against the railing behind him. “It’s…” he hesitated, inwardly debating whether or not he should truly ask Zeroken his question. It was selfish of him to ask, but it might help him understand why…why Ronny acted the way he did.

“It’s a difficult question, so you don’t have to answer it. But…when you were looking after Goldion, and they, the Lost were…hurting him, watching from the sidelines must have made you feel so helpless. Is that what spurred you to become his apprentice?”

As he had expected, Zeroken was taken aback by his question. “Y-yeah, that’s right,” he answered automatically. He fell silent immediately after, to take a moment to himself to form a proper response. Or to, perhaps, debate whether he could truly answer.

“I wanted to become stronger,” he began. “Where I might…one day be strong enough to save my master, my idol. Or, at least, save someone else from becoming a victim of the Lost. Save them from having to witness and endure what I did.”

“I see.” Samuel hoped that his smile was both empathetic and sympathetic. “Back in Nugatory, the Wardens treated us badly as well. Punish us for the smallest things. Being the caretaker, I often took the beatings for the others. I felt it was my duty to do so.”

His smile faded from his lips entirely and his gaze fell to the ground at his feet as a nauseous feeling of guilt settled in his stomach. “And yet…was I instilling a sense of helplessness in the others?”

Was that why Ronny acted the way he did? Was his anger, his…hatred of him actually his resentment of him protecting him?

“…It’s not easy, standing on the sidelines and watching the one who admire and care for get hurt,” Zeroken affirmed. “Especially for something you did. That kind of helplessness hurts the heart and soul. Watching, not being able to help.”

So, it was true…

“I’m not saying you did anything wrong or anything,” Zeroken quickly amended. “In your position, anyone would have done the same. That’s what parents and caretakers do. What they will always do, no matter what.”

Yeah, he supposed so. Parents, caretakers…they would do anything for their children. Elders were meant to look after those under their care. Protect them, care for them, love them. Do anything for them. Anything.

That was…just how things were.

Ronny, if only he could have understood that…

“You’re right. Thank you, Zero.” Samuel pushed away from the railing and crossed the short distance between him and Zeroken, and slipped an arm around his neck to rake his knuckles through his hair. “I think I understand Ronny a little bit better, now, thanks to you.”

Zeroken grabbed onto his arm, but did not attempt to detach himself from his grip. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, innocently.

That brought a genuine smile to Samuel’s lips. “Yeah, I’m feeling better.”

… … … … …

Samuel was never normally the one for sitting still. Yet, it was all he could bring himself to do. Sit still and gaze out into the Netherverse beyond the Pocket Netherworld, and wonder which sparkling white dot far off in the distance was the elusive Nugatory. And if the words uttered to him by Ronny and Hellekin were true…

He did not want to believe them. His heart did not want to believe them. His Halfling kin, his kids, couldn’t be…gone, could they?

They could not be gone because of…him.

He did not want to believe it.

“Samuel.”

He was grateful when Usalia’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. He purposely shook himself out of his reverie and sat up straight, turning his in chair in a quiet corner in the communal area to greet Usalia as she made her way over to him.

“Here,” she said cheerfully as she handed him a bowl of curry. “I made some of my special sweet curry. I want you to have some. It’ll make you feel better, plip.”

Her consideration brought a sincere smile to Samuel’s lips and he readily retrieved the curry from her. “Oh, thank you. That’s very kind of you.”

Truthfully, he was not at all hungry, but he was not about to say no to Usalia. And the smell was starting to whet his appetite. Besides, she appeared to be eagerly waiting for him to take a bite.

“How is it?” Usalia asked after he did just that. “I worked really hard on it.”

“It’s delicious.” Which was, of course, the truth. She had been working diligently since she had asked Killia to teach her how to cook curry after the recovery of her parents’ crafted recipe. “I can tell you really put your heart into it.”

“I made it just for you, plip.”

Specially for him?

They really were trying so hard to cheer him up.

Samuel slowly placed the spoon back into the bowl and set the curry aside. “Usalia, could you help me understand something?”

Usalia tilted her head to the side. “What is it, plip?”

“It’s…Killia told you what happened with Ronny, didn’t he?” He received a nod in response. “Well, he…he said that he hated me. And yet, he said he did all those things because he wanted to protect me. I’m…I’m trying to wrap my head around his motives. Did he hate me?”

“Not at all,” Usalia responded quickly and decisively. “He loved you very much.”

“Then why-?”

“He was angry.” Usalia closed her eyes as she began to speak from the heart. “Angry at himself for being so weak, at his own weakness for putting you in danger. Angry at the Netherverse for always putting you in danger, for always hurting you. Hellekin said the right things to him. Made him believe that he would give him the power. Told him that if he was able to defeat you in battle, then you would concede your role as defender, so he would be the one taking on the danger. He wanted to be you, plip.”

“I…I see.”

Was…was that true? Did Ronny truly care for him like that, and his actions were just that of a child in a helpless situation unsure of what do and only lashed out as it was the only way he knew how?

That…that would explain a lot. Hellekin got to him. Tricked him. Manipulated him. Hellekin himself said that he had to get rid of Samuel. He got in the way. He said that he got in the way of the Seedlings, but…he got in the way of the Halflings, too.

Ronny…he was half right. He did fail him, failed them. But it was not entirely his fault. Hellekin made sure that he failed them.

He wished his knew the exact location of Nugatory. He wished he could go back.

He wished he could have saved them.

“Th-thank you, Usalia,” Samuel said. “You helped me a lot.”

Usalia leaned forward and peered up at him. “Are you ok?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, I’m ok.” He was going to be ok. “I’m sorry. This must be very hard on you, too.”

“…I miss my parents very much, plip.”

“I know you do.”

Samuel pushed away from the back of his seat and leaned forward, holding out his arms toward her. She readily leaned up on her toes and slipped her arms around his neck in a comforting, familial hug.

“Children love their parents as much as their parents love their children.”

… … … … …

The Pocket Netherworld was as bustling and rowdy as ever. It was comforting to see and experience. Yet, in another way, it was disconcerting, seeing everyone continuing with their normal, everyday lives, while Samuel continued to deal with the traumatic aftermath.

He just wanted to be normal again.

In his wanderings, Samuel found his way to the small exercise area. Where Red Magnus was getting in some training, using a punching bag as he went through a series of spear attacks. The last couple of days had been relatively quiet, in spite it all, the next magical spear yet to be discovered. The hardest part of war was always the waiting part.

Samuel himself was not allowed to participate in any kind of strenuous activity, but it would not hurt to speak with ol’ Red Magnus as he went through his drills, would it?

“Red Magnus,” Samuel called out in a form of greeting. “You’ve been doing a lot of training, I hear.”

Red Magnus paused mid attack, glanced over at him before he hefted his weapon upon his shoulder. “Hey, S-Man. Surprised you’re allowed near the training grounds.”

Samuel waved his hand dismissively and sat himself down upon the steps before the training arena. “Oh no, I’m only allowed to pass by. If I so much as look at a weapon, someone is bound to pounce on me.”

Speaking of someone pouncing, he felt as though he had eyes on him. They…didn’t feel like they belonged to Killia. His eyes would be concerned, watching to keep an eye on him, to ensure that he stay safe, protected.

Those eyes…were different.

Odd.

“How’s the injuries?” Red Magnus asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

Samuel glanced over at his right shoulder and winced. “Healing…Taking longer than I’d like. But, healing.”

Still hard to believe that he actually ripped out his own wings. He did not remember doing that, honestly. He was able to recall other key memories, but that? No, he did not recall reaching around and ripping them out.

He must have been buried deep in his own pain to have done such a thing.

“Red Magnus, you’ve dealt with feelings of helplessness before, haven’t you?” Samuel asked before he had the chance to reconsider.

Red Magnus rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, but I’m no good with advice, S-Man.”

Samuel had to smile. “Honestly, I’m terrible at receiving it. I’m also terrible at doing nothing.”

“Yeah, that’s the worse.” Red Magnus removed the spear from his shoulder and oh-so casually tossed it toward the punching bag, piercing it through the middle with little effort. “Hey, S-Man?”

“Hm?”

Red Magnus folded his arms across his chest, and almost appeared hesitant. “I know this will bring up some super bad memories, but this Hellekin guy. He must have been one huge sack of shit for you to react the way you did.”

Samuel felt his breath hitch in his throat. “…He…He was regarded as a warden of Nugatory. Basically, someone who ensured no one left. That no one escaped. And that he thought it was fun to ‘test’ some of the Seedlings out on the weaker Halflings to see what they can do. He was…abusive, to say the least.”

“What?!” Red Magnus bellowed unexpectedly, bristling wildly. “Argh, he was more than a sack of shit! He’s lucky he’s already dead, or I’d hunt him down myself and pummel the absolute tar out of him!”

His angry, violent reaction actually startled Samuel for a moment. A mere second later it dawned upon him that he was not angry at him. No, he was furious at Hellekin. A protective anger.

He…had learnt quite a bit since Scorching Flame, hadn’t he?

Realisation suddenly flickered across Red Magnus’ face. “Oh right, you already did,” he uttered. Equally unexpectedly, he grinned widely. “Did it feel good to finally get revenge on him? Come on, it super totally did, didn’t it?”

“…A-A little,” Samuel admitted.

“How’d ya do it?” Red Magnus asked, perhaps a little too eagerly. “I super want to know!”

Samuel honestly had not put too much thought into what he had done to Hellekin. “W-well…I think I…I kinda grabbed him by the face.”

“Uh huh.”

“Then threw him several feet until he hit wall of stone, where he made a crater.”

“Nice, nice. Then what?”

“I, ah, stomped his head into the ground.”

“Nice! Then what?”

“I pinned him to the ground and started pummelling him with my fists until he dissipated into the ether.”

“Bwahahaha!” The laugh that Red Magnus released was boisterous and loud, filled with genuine amusement. “That’s awesome!”

Thinking back on it, he held such hatred for Hellekin. So much anger. So much pain. For what he did to Ronny. For all the pain and suffering he had inflicted upon all the innocent Halflings over the years. For all the pleasure he found in inflicting that pain.

That man…He deserved every hit, stomp, and punch. Every brutal blow. He deserved it all. He deserved more.

Pity it did not last longer.

“All the Halflings that had suffered because of him can finally rest in peace,” Red Magnus stated, rather sagely at that.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Yet, there were two more wardens out there. If they were also involved…

He may have no choice but to face them in battle. If so, then he should face them without mercy, too. For all the Halflings that had suffered in the past. For the Halflings that still suffered.

And for all those that were suffering in the present.

Samuel could not afford to wallow in pity anymore.

“Red Magnus, thanks.”

Red Magnus looked genuinely confused. “Eh, for what?”

“For cheering me up,” Samuel replied. “I guess what happened, rather what I did to Hellekin wasn’t so bad after all.”

Red Magnus crossed his arms and nodded. “That’s right, S-Man. He super deserved it.”

He did. And he did not regret a single hit.

“Samuel? There you are.”

A smile immediately made its way to Samuel’s lips the moment he heard Killia’s voice. He turned around and watched as Killia made his way down the stairs toward him. “Hey, Killia. Sorry, were you looking for me?”

“Hey Killia,” Red Magnus also greeted, with a cocky half grin. “Now, we weren’t training. I know better than to get on your protective side.”

Hm, protective side?

Samuel turned to Killia and tilted his head to the side questioningly. “Hey, quick question; were you watching over me from the shadows a couple of times? I just felt that someone was watching me.”

Killia furrowed his brow. “Where abouts?”

His protective side had definitely been activated. So, it was not him?

“Nowhere in particular. Just in the distance. Don’t worry, I’m just being paranoid.”

Hopefully.

[anlian-aishang]

This one is a lil wholesome but Can I request a Levi x reader🥺 both Levi and reader share an island in animal crossing: n horizon and Levi has a fit when he see stuff lying around the island🙃

Thank you for the request! I am sorry this took so long. I waited to write this until I could buy and play ACNH a little bit so that I wouldn’t sound completely clueless XD (I’m still kinda clueless teehee) Anyways, I hope you can enjoy <3

Word count: 700 Tags: sfw, fluff, modern AU

The insomniac he is, Levi always stays up later than you and gets up earlier than you. In those extra hours, video games are often what he goes to. Even when he wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, he heads to the living room and boots up the switch.

And always, without fail, when the island loads up, there is shit everywhere.

The first few days that you owned the game weren’t so bad, but once you started planting gardens, inviting new neighbors, building the museum, acquiring all the fruit trees - no amount of hours he put in were enough to keep the island clean.

He had his house on the southwest end, yours on the northeast, and with such distance, he could usually keep his own little quadrant free of clutter.

But not today.

Levi squints his eyes, his jaw drops, and he whispers to himself, “What the hell?” There is so much chaos, even he can’t keep track - it spreads beyond his screen. A yule log, candles, an accessories stand, chessboard, cooler box, a mug, there are so many items flat out laying on the lawn outside his house.

Where - When did they even get all this stuff? It had been a couple days since he last played. It is 6 AM now, did you do this while he was at work or has it been like this all week?

As always, he checks his mailbox promptly - which, like his yard, also turns out to be full. 300/300 letters - all from you, it takes multiple scrolling screens to get to the bottom of. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. One thing at a time.

// // //

It is well over an hour of him playing until you come downstairs. You find him on the couch: dark circles under his eyes, a slight frown on his face, his movements look defeated.

“Good morning, honey!”

He flicks you one glance before quickly turning his attention back on the game, “Morning.”

And already, you can tell something’s wrong. You tiptoe over, cup his shoulders in your hands, and press your foreheads together, “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Levi tucks his lip under his teeth. It sounds so stupid to say out loud, extremely childish. At the same time, though, he feels he spends more time cleaning up your mess rather than getting to enjoy the gameplay that he bought the cartridge for in the first place. Sure, he’ll admit it - maybe he likes cleaning up after you sometimes, but not all the time.

He puts his hand on your head and tousles your hair, “You really made a mess of things, huh, brat?”

You take a look at the TV screen. To your dismay, he has picked up most of what you laid outside of his house. A bit of hurry in your voice, “H-Have you gone inside your house, yet?”

Levi snaps his gaze to you - an expression that asks Are you serious? For one, he hasn’t had the time to check it yet, prioritizing the island. But next, you dirtied his house, too? That frown deepens. After all the hard work he put into it too… He sighs, “Oh no…” But better to find out now and get it over with.

You take a seat behind him, hiding your knowing grin. Eyes stable on him as you await his reaction.

All the planning that went into it - uploading the images, earning money, buying gifts, writing the letters, sending all the mail - while he was at work. Then, when he came home, distracting him and thus keeping him from playing Animal Crossing, all without having him know it.

He is relieved to see that the house is as it was - everything has been kept the same, except for the wallpaper which reads: Happy Birthday, Levi!

It takes him a second. He is never the forgetful type except for his own birthday, which he deduces, must be today. And that all that clutter lying around from before and all those letters sitting in his mailbox do not stem from carelessness, but exactly the opposite.

Levi huffs some quiet laughs, rubs your back, and kisses your cheek, “I love you.”

You give him a kiss on the forehead and a head pat to accompany, drawing that smile you love so much - while also making a note to yourself: next year, maybe a clean island instead.

// masterlist //

[lilith-of-rivia]

The Bard’s Sister  Geralt XFeamle!Reader Part 3

Part 1    Part 2 

Masterlist 

Summary: Its finally your birthday. You not only get a lovely gift from mum and dad but also from your brother and his companion who has taken a very big likening to you. 

Trigger Warnings: Drinking, some cursing

Pairing: Geralt XFemale!Reader Jaskier XSister!Reader

Word Count: 8,979 (I know its a long one XD I fit a lot into one part) 

If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!! So sorry this took so long. it was a lot of writing and I knew I wanted to get the party done in one part. the next part will be the beginning of the travels!! Would you guys rather have SMUT in the next part or wait till the part after that? let me know!!! All my love!! -Lilith

Sleep eluded me. After eating the meat pie from the kitchen and a nice hot bath I thought sleep would’ve come much quicker. I was tired, physically and emotionally. I could feel it in my bones but every time I closed my eyes I remembered that my brother would be leaving again in a few days. I had three more days with him but it didn’t feel like enough. Not after all the time we lost. I wanted to ask him to stay with me, but I knew it would be selfish of me. 

Jaskier’s departure also meant Geralt would be leaving too. It was probably for the best… the feeling I have for the witcher shouldn’t exist. They shouldn’t exist, because I was not delusional. I knew the Witcher’s were re-programmed into believing they were not capable of love, that they were loveless monsters, not only incapable of giving love but incapable of receiving love. I didn’t believe any of those tales. I had studied the trails Witcher’s must go through to become what they are. 

It is disturbing. They break young men’s wills. Make them believe the world will never offer them love, all to fuel their agenda. Witcher's never go through anything that makes them incapable of love. It’s very evident in my brother’s relationship with the witcher. Had Geralt not been capable of feeling “human” emotions, he would’ve left Jaskier to die when he was attacked by the Djinn. It was a perfect way for him to get rid of my brother, it wasn’t technically his fault or his doing. My brother could’ve died and he could’ve washed his hands clean of him. 

The way he kissed my hand the first day we met, was like he was attempting to give his best first impression. He tried his best to show respect, maybe so my mother and father would like him more. He showed me kindness, tenderness. Any time he touched me was feather-soft. Maybe he was worried he’d hurt me or scare me away...

The way he kissed Hildi’s hand. The way he smiled at my brother’s stupid jokes. There was so much more to him than anyone realized. 

I stood from my bed walking over to my desk. I sat down and lit the lantern with the candle from my bed. The fire in the corner of my room didn’t provide nearly enough light to reach me. I grabbed my journal and some charcoal. I moved over to the large windows and sat down. The glass was cold under my touch, the moon was nearly full. It lit up the garden below me. It was the most perfect view of the gardens my mother spent so much time tending. The light blue hue cascaded along the hedges. The flowers dimly lit. I scribbled down the date in my journal before I began sketching the view in front of me for what seemed like the 500th time. I always found something new. Tonight was a quick sketch, just of the basics. I was hoping it would make me sleep but nothing seemed to work. 

My body was smothered in quilts, my arm draped lazily over my head as I tried my best to sleep. The thin nightgown I wore was perfect for warm summer nights. It kept me cool and didn't stick to my body when I sweat.   

The night was still, everything in the walls of the castle was silent. I cul hear the crickets and the frogs below me, but nothing else. 

Squeak squeak 

My eyes snapped open, my heart beating rather quick at the sudden sound from the room behind my head. It took me a minute to remember that Geralt was sleeping next door. I had heard him go to bed hours ago and it had been completely silent since. But now I could hear him moving over and over in his bed. 

“Geralt…” My voice was barely above a whisper. No one could hear me, no one but a witcher's ears. If he was awake I knew he could hear me. 

“...if...if you’re awake, tap the wall twice.” I held my breath waiting for a moment. My cheeks turning red in embarrassment. 

Tap Tap

I smiled at the small sound signaling to me he was awake. 

“I can not sleep...care to take a walk?... Tap twice for yes.” I wondered if he could hear the smile through my voice. 

Tap Tap

I smiled wider, getting up from my bed. I grabbed a candle from my nightstand after throwing on my silk robe. It wasn’t the warmest fabric in the world but the summer air wasn’t too cold. 

I quietly tiptoed to the door, opening it slowly to not let it creak. There on the other side was Geralt. His hair was no longer pulled back in a tie out of his face, no it was messily about his head, some small knots in the thicker areas. Small strands stuck up everywhere. His eyes were hooded a little in sleep. He had a small smile on his lips, his hands tucked into his underarms as he waited for me. He reached out, taking the candle from me before offering me his free arm. 

“Princess…” he greeted with a small cheesy bow of his head. I giggled, softly shaking my head. My hand gripped around his bicep, squeezing it softly. It was as hard as a rock, my hand barely made it halfway around it.

“Hello, Geralt,” I whispered and he smiled. We began walking down the corridor, the hall dimly lit by the moonlight and the few candles lit. 

“No sleep?” He asked.

“No...my mind won't stop wondering…” we walked down the stairs, slowly as to not let the guards know anyone was awake. 

“Care to tell me why, dove?” He whispered. His arm moved slightly, making me let go almost immediately. Before my hand reached my side his fingers laced in between my own, squeezing it. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks, the small act making my heart melt. 

“Walk through the garden with me?” I whispered leaning in a little closer to him. He made me feel safe. Not that I didn't feel safe in my home, I knew how safe I was compared to many others but he just made me feel a type of safe I'd never felt. 

“Of course, lead the way.” we continued down the hall, walking towards the gardens. 

As we veered a corner Geralt's arm quickly wrapped around my waist as he silently, and quickly tucked us behind a suit of armor in the corner. His arm squeezed around my waist. I could feel his breath in my ear. It sent shivers down my spine making me twitch slightly. He chuckled lowly, his thumb stroking my stomach. 

“Do I scare you?” his whisper was low, very close to my ear.

“Never,” I said with no hesitation. My head turned towards him, his eyes shining in the dark. He gently put his finger to my lips. 

“Shhh.” I nodded my head, our eye contact not breaking. His fingers softly traced my jawline, moving till he was cupping my cheek. He broke eye contact for a second as his eyes flicked to the hall we just exited. Not a second after he looked me in the eyes again I could hear footsteps. They were walking down the hall towards us. Geralt took a breath in. After a minute the person was gone. Geralt’s hand was still on my cheek and the other hand wrapped around my waist. 

“You are so beautiful.” My throat went dry. My hands started to get clammy. 

Everything in my body urged me to just grab his face and kiss him, but that small voice kept me back. My fear overtaking the decision. I gently grabbed his hand that was on my face, leaning into him. I kissed his wrist softly. His skin was so warm, warmer than the average man for sure. I wanted to hold him. Feel his skin on mine.

“So are you,” I whispered. His eyes practically rolled out of his head as he smirked like I just made some lude joke. He grabbed my hand and led me to the hallway and out the door to the garden. The moon was bright. 

Geralt started to walk in front of me, pulling me deeper into the garden. Soon we were surrounded by my mother’s Roses and lavender bushes. The smell was intoxicating. It was the center of the garden. Geralt grabbed my waist again. Pulling me closer to him. I was shivering slightly. The air was cold from the late-night rain we had. Colder than I thought it would be. My hands Gently went to his chest, softly pulling and toying with the strings on his tunic. 

“You are beautiful Geralt. I wouldn't joke about that.” My voice was no longer a whisper, it was still low but he could hear me better. 

“I have been called many things in my day dove, but never beautiful.” His arms were tighter around me, his shoulders were tense. He was more alert outside than he was inside, I understood. His training not wanting him to think anywhere is safe. 

“If you want, I’ll make sure to call you that more often.” He chuckled softly at my words. I couldn't help but feel angry, not at him but at the world. The way they treated him, his kind for things they all don’t deserve. My hands went to each side of his face, as I gently made him look at me. 

“Geralt you are so much more than this world will ever give you credit for...I can never say I understand what it feels like to live in your skin, but I can tell you that you do not deserve that cruelty that is thrown your way. I know not all witchers are like you, I know many of them live up to the expectations my kind has put on you. But you do not. You are far from a monster Geralt of Rivia. You-'' one hand rested on his chest above his slow beating heart “-you have a heart of gold. And I’m so sorry you've never been treated with the love and care you deserve and need.” his hand was now covering my own over his heart. His other arm is still tight around my waist. My face and his had drafted closer as I spoke, he leaned forward, pressing our foreheads together.

“Fuck…. (Y/N)...I’m not good with words. But - I, uh thank you…” his voice was so deep it made it hard to focus. His cheeks were light pink. His eyes flashing from my lips to my eyes. I couldn't help but giggle at how frazzled he got over words he deserved to be told. My heart yearned for his touch. Everything he touched was like a small fire deep inside me. I had courted many men in my life. Many I thought would be my endgame, but none ever made me feel the way he did. His lip inched closer to my own, slowly before they were centimeters apart. He wouldn't kiss me without permission. 

“You may kiss me Ger-” his lips were on mine before I could finish my sentence.

 My arms wrapped around his neck, his own wrapping tighter around me nearly lifting me off my feet. 

Our lips moved together slowly, softly. I could feel every inch of his body pressed to my own. All my thoughts were him only. His intoxicating scent was filling my nose as I breathed slowly. He smelt of sandalwood, maybe a little bit of mint. Nothing I'd ever smelled before. The way his hands held my back, softly running up and down the silk of my robe. Everything he touched felt like a new fire was spreading. His lips were sweet, of honey. They were surprisingly soft. They made me feel like molten hot lava. My hand gently combed through his hair. His teeth softly nipped my bottom lip before his tongue infiltrated my mouth. Our tongues danced together, our hands wondering, touching, feeling every inch. The world around me didn't feel real. My body was in the garden but my head was in the clouds. 

He pulled away from me, barely. The loss of contact made me whine softly. I felt colder without his lips on mine. His hot breath fanned my face as he breathed in and out. I opened my eyes, looking into his. His hands left my back moving to my face, his forehead back on mine. 

“You are intoxicating, princess.” His words were velvet. They made my insides turn in the most delicious way. My body yearned for him. His fingers delicately traced the frame of my face. 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” I leaned into his hand. The warmth of his palm being a decent replacement for his lips. 

“Jaskier will leave soon...Three days from now.” his hand left my cheek, wrapping around my body, gently turning me so my back was to his chest. His arms circled my waist as he held me into him. His chin rested on my shoulder as he listened. 

“When Jaskier leaves, you'll leave too...and I'll be alone again.” The thought of them leaving made my stomach ache. I had been alone most of my life. Yes I had my parents and they were great, but they were not my brother. 

“All of my friends I grew up with are mothers now. They have lives of their own. My mother and father cannot be my friends, they are my parents. It's nothing the same. I never realized how much I missed Jaskier till he came back.” My throat tightened as I spoke, the feeling of my tears burning my eyes becoming more overwhelming. My hands went to his around my waist as I held them closer to me if it was possible.

“I don't want to be alone again…” The tears slipped freely down my face, my head dropping. 

“I sometimes wish he never left. I know that is selfish of me, but I miss him so much. Sometimes it takes months for me to get the letters he sends me. I never know if he is alive or not.” My crying became a little more intense as I spoke. My voice wavering. I Let go of his hands, covering my face with my hands as I rubbed away the tears vigorously. I hated crying in front of people, it showed weakness, made me vulnerable. 

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to put you in this awkward situation,” I whispered. One of his arms left my waist, only to wrap around my shoulders, pulling me tighter into his chest. 

“Do not apologize princess…” His lips met my temple in a soft kiss. His lips lingered there for a minute. 

“Who have you been training with?” He asked. I couldn't tell if he was trying to change the subject because he wanted me to stop crying or if he didn't know how to deal with me crying. 

“You may know him, I'm not sure. He never spoke of anyone from his past. He’s a retired witcher. He stumbled into our kingdom when I was 15. My mother and father were scared of a looming war between my country and Lyria. One of my uncles had knocked up the king's younger daughter. A large threat was over my head for a couple of years. So they asked him when he came into our country if he would train me. So I could take care of myself if I was to leave under a new identity. For the last ten years he came for a couple of months, we started with book training rather dull if I do say-” I chuckled at the memory of how many times I fell asleep reading the dull books he would bring with him. “We gradually moved into combat training. I know he didn't train me nearly as hard as he had trained the witchers in his court. But there were days I felt like my limbs would fall off, but last year he told my parents that he was confident that I would not only be able to live on my own in the world, but he was confident I would thrive. His name is Vesemir. He’s due to show up for our training any day now.” Geralt’s eyes were looking at me when I turned to see him. He was smirking softly. 

“What?” 

“Vesemir was my instructor at Kaer Morhen. I’m the witcher I am today because of his training.” My eyes must have bulged out of my head. He laughed at me making my cheeks flush red. 

“You are telling me, I’ve been trained by the same man who trained you? And he never bothered to tell me? What a jerk.” I turned my body around in Geralt’s arms, my head now laying on his chest, my arms around his waist resting on his back. He was much, much, taller than me. 

“Vesemir has always respected my privacy, don't harp on the old man too much.” His heartbeat was distracting me. It was much slower than mine. It was like a lullaby. My hand covered my mouth as I yawned, his head tilting down as he looked at me. 

“Common, you have to sleep. You've got a big day tomorrow.” He was talking about my party. His hands gently pulled me back from him, his fingers laced with mine as he led me back through the garden into the castle and down to my room. 

We stood outside the door, his hands mindlessly fidgeting with my robe. 

“Stay with me tonight?” My hands pressed softly to his chest. 

“I don't know princess...I don't want your parents to get the wrong idea of me.” I nodded my head, understanding and respecting his wishes. 

“Will you be my date to my party tomorrow?” I asked timidly, my eyes focused on his silver pendant.

“I would be honored, Princess (Y/N).” His fingers hooked under my chin tilting my head up so my eyes met his own. 

“Jaskier has your clothes, the party starts at noon.” He nodded his head. 

“I'll be here waiting for you, little dove.” his lips pressed to mine. It was the softest sweetest kiss I had ever shared. It wasn't long, only a few seconds. His hand reached behind me as he opened my bedroom door for me. I leaned up, kissing his cheek softly. 

“Good night Geralt.” I backed up till I was through the threshold of the door, my eyes not leaving him. My hand went to the door. 

“Goodnight (Y/N).” I smiled and closed the door softly. My forehead gently leaning on it. My heart raced faster than it ever had. I wanted him back with me and he hadn't even been behind the door for a minute. 

I moved to my bed, hanging my robe on the wooden bedpost before climbing under the warm comforters. They were not nearly as warm as he was but they would do. 

Tap Tap 

A smile stretched across my face. My knuckles softly tapping against the wall in goodnight. As I drifted into sleep finally, Geralt was only on my mind.

“Princess (Y/N)...” The sound of someone's voice broke my sleep. My eyes fluttered open, the sun burning them as it shone brightly through my window. 

“Princess…” There was a small knock on the door. I couldn't tell who was at the door. I sat up in bed, the quilt bunched at my hips. I rubbed my eyes messily, moving my hair from my face. 

“Yes yes, please come in,” I called my voice hoarse from the lack of water throughout the night. The door opened and Fesca and Neshe entered. They were women who worked in our court. My father and mother never believed in having unpaid servants. 

No one in my family did. Before my great-great-grandfather founded and rebuilt our kingdom my family lived in incredible poverty. Many of my late family died of famines and illnesses due to not having money or food. When my father took the throne he made sure to keep the rule alive. We had many workers in the castle. But they were all paid and had housing courtesy of my father and mother.

Behind the two women, their daughters followed. They were much younger than me, barely 18.  

“How did you sleep, my dear?” Neshe asked a sweet smile on her lips as she moved to the curtains, drawing them closed. My feet met the hard cold floor as I stood and stretched my muscles. 

“Very well thank you,” I said with a smile. The four women walked around my room, Neshe was getting my dress ready, while Fesca and her daughter were preparing items for a bath. 

“Here you go, miss.” Ari, Fesca’s daughter said with a smile as she put down a tray of food at my vanity. 

“What time is it?” I asked as I moved to the vanity, examining the plate full of fruits and a muffin. 

“Nearly ten, miss,” Ari said as she made my bed. 

“You don't have to do that,” I said looking back at her, smiling. 

“I know.” She said back with a smile. 

“Your mother instructed us to tell you that you are not allowed to leave your room until the party this afternoon,” Neshe said as she started to boil water over the fire for the bath. 

“Knock knock!” My head turned to the door, it was Jaskier’s voice. 

“Come in,” I called and the door burst open. Jaskier was standing in the doorway with a huge grin across his face. He was carrying a large bundle of flowers. All types from roses to tulips. 

He walked over to me, setting the flowers on my bed before hugging me tightly. My arms wrapped around his waist, my head resting on his lower chest. 

“Happy birthday baby sister,” he whispered into my ear. I smiled and squeezed him tighter. 

“Thank you, Jaskier. Thank you for being here.” He stepped back from me, looking back to the door. 

“Geralt common!” He called, my cheeks heated a little as he entered. He was wearing what he was last night. Part of me felt like it was all a dream, everything from his hand on mine to his kiss. Our eyes met and he smiled at me, winking softly. He too was carrying a large bundle of flowers. 

“Oh gods Jaskier you didn’t have to get so many,” I said with a laugh as Geralt placed them on my bed next to the ones from Jaskier. 

“Oh but I do, little sister. There are enough flowers in each bouquet for every birthday I’ve missed.” I smiled up at him, my heart swelling. 

“Thank you, Jax”  

“Eat.” Neshe nudged me as she began pulling hairpins and brooches out of my vanity. I grabbed the muffin and took a bite, Jaskier pulling my desk chair over so he was sitting in front of me. Geralt sitting on my bed. Neshe started detangling my bed head, separating and pinning sections back as she started on the intricate style she had thought of for the day. 

“You washed your hair recently, correct?” She asked as she handed me a glass of orange juice. 

“Yes ma’am,” I said with a smile before drinking the juice and setting the empty glass down. 

“You are such a compliant princess.” Jaskier snickered. 

“Much more than you were as a young child Jaskier. You gave me hell every single day.” Neshe said behind me. 

“I respect them, Jaskier. They look out for me.” I said with a roll of my eyes finishing the muffin and grabbing the bowl of fruit and the fork. Jaskier reached overtaking a strawberry and plopping it into his mouth. 

“Rude,” I mumbled under my breath as I ate the fruit. Neshe continued working on my hair as I finished eating, the other three women walking around my room, tightening up and getting the bathroom ready, the tub is filled with boiling water. Many different oils and flowers added, the room soon smelling fresh and fragrant. 

“Knock knock.” My eyes flew to the door that had opened slightly.

There stood a man, not as tall as Geralt but very close. His hair was a white silver, but much shorter, straight too. It was pinned further back. His face was much older than Geralt’s, not only with wrinkles but scars. His build was large, he was a very intimidating man. But what Witcher isn’t. 

“Vesemir!” I quickly moved from Nashe’s hands, walking over to where he was standing a bright grin on his face. He quickly engulfed me in a hug.

“How are you kid?” He asked, pulling back from me, eyes searching my face. 

“I’m wonderful, I’m so happy you're back,” I said smiling brightly. I looked at him but his eyes were over on the other witcher in the room, who was now standing. 

“Well well, look what the cat dragged in,” Vesemir said with a deep laugh. He gently let go of my shoulders walking over to Geralt who was smiling back. 

“Could say the same for you old man.” They shook hands, before hugging each other very quickly. My brother stood up and looked from me to Vesemir.

“Jaskier! So good to see you again.” Vesemir said. 

“How do you know my baby sister?” Jaskier said, looking confused. 

“He’s the one I’ve been training with, Jaskier. Father and mother love him.” Jaskier let out a frustrated breath pacing slightly.

“So you mean to tell me you've been seeing my baby sister for years and never once thought it was important information to share with me??” Jaskier’s voice was getting louder and shrill.

I walked over to him gently putting my hand on his arm. 

“Jaskier he was doing it to protect me and you. He wasn't allowed to tell anyone outside of these walls what we did when he came here. Father and mother made those rules. Don’t be mad at him for following the rules. Just as he did with you and Geralt. I had no idea-” Nashe’s hands were on my shoulders leading me back over so I was seated, her fingers working gracefully in my hair. “I had no idea he had trained Geralt until last night. He never told me because he respected Geralt and his privacy.” Jaskier sighed, nodding his head. His calm demeanor only lasted a minute before he looked at me and his eyebrows furrowed together.

“Wait, last night? When last night? When were you alone with him??” Jaskier turned his attention to Geralt, his hands on his hips like a tutting mother. I bit my lip gently looking away from him. Fesca came over clapping her hands together with a smile on her face. 

“Okay gentleman, I'm going to ask you all to leave. We need to get her ready for the party. You can continue this reunion later.” Jaskier huffed frustrated before walking out of the room, leaving Geralt and Vesemir. They both looked at each other then at me, Vesemir smirking at me. 

“Here you go, the first part of ya gift.” He handed me a book. 

‘A Mage’s Guide to Healing’ 

“What is this? I'm no mage.” Vesemir smirked. 

“You do not know everything Miss (Y/N). You may find it useful. ” With that, he turned and walked out of the room. 

Geralt turned to me and smiled. He knelt in front of me so his eyes were level with mine, his hands grabbing mine. He gently kissed my knuckles. My stomach erupted in butterflies.

“You might need to talk to Jaskier before I do,” I said. He chuckled softly, our eyes meeting. 

“What shall I tell him?” His thumbs stroked the back of my hands. 

I shook my head forgetting Fesca was still working on my hair causing her to grunt in frustration, her hands holding the sides of my head so I sat still. 

“My dear, if you want me to finish this so you can enjoy the company of the Wolf this evening, you need to sit still.” I smiled bashfully, glancing down at my hands with my eyes. 

“Sorry, Fes…” I mumbled. 

“I'm not sure what to tell him. Maybe you should decide.” Geralt nodded in agreement. He stood up slightly, leaning over and kissing my forehead softly. I could hear the women behind me ooing quietly. 

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours, dove.” I smiled up at him, squeezing his hands gently. 

“Okay, Geralt. Maybe tell him outside.” He laughed softly walking to the door, his hand on the doorknob. 

“Okay, dove.”

Once the door was shut Neshe appeared in front of me, she had a smirk on her face. 

“You and the witcher my dear?” She sat in the chair Jaskier was in. Ari and Yennaa were behind me helping Fesca with my hair.

“There isn't anything other than what you saw. He cares for me, but we all know he can't care for me in the way I wish he could.” I said looking over the book in my lap. 

“I don't know (Y/N)… the way he looked at you is how my pa looks at mum,” Yennaa commented. Her mother and father had been together longer than my mum and dad. The connection between how Geralt looked at me to how her father looked at her mum made my heart sore. 

“I...I hope so...He makes me feel things no other man has.” 

Fresca gently squeezed my shoulders, sliding a silk bonnet over my hair, tying it behind my head. 

“Alright dear get in the bath, wash yourself up and we'll be back to help with your dress and makeup.” I nodded and thanked them as they left the room. I undressed quickly, before sinking into the hot bubbly water. 

____________________________________________________________________________

“You look beautiful my dear. You wait here to get your mother and father.” I smiled brightly at Neshe and the other women.

“Thank you. And thank you so much for your help. "They smiled and left me alone in front of the mirror 

The dress was so beautiful. 

Hildi had completely outdone herself this year. The dress was dazzling baby pink, with hundreds of stars stitched into a beautiful mesh fabric. It had sleeves but they did not come up my arms. Instead, the sleeves came right above my elbows. My décolleté and shoulders bare, showing off my breasts a bit more than I normally did but I had never felt more beautiful. Fesca had outdone herself on my hair, every pin was perfectly placed, every curl held beautifully. My crown was dazzling in the noon sun, sending rainbows around my room as it sat gracefully on my head. My attention was turned to the small knock on the door. In stepped my mum and dad. My mum's hand went over her mouth with a small gasp. 

“Oh my goodness. My baby girl is a grown woman. You look absolutely beautiful my love.” She came to me, hugging me into her tightly. My arms wrapped around her shoulders tightly. Her fingers stroked my back softly. I inhaled her scent, snuggling my face into her maroon dress. Her hugs were like none I'd ever had. They were everything I needed some nights... 

“I love you, mum…” She pulled me back from her and looked me in the eye, her fingers stroking my face. 

“I love you more than you will ever know.  Now, your father has a gift for you.” My eyes went to him. He was dressed in a solid green velvet suit, a white button-down under his fest. He looked dashing. I smiled at him as he walked over to us, a small box in his hand. 

“This is something I had made for you when you were born. We both wanted to wait till you were older to give it to you. I think now is a perfect time.” He handed me the box with a smile. I gently took the box and opened it. 

“Dad….” It took my breath away. A beautiful ring was in the center of the box, gleaming in the sun. 

There was an opal stone in the center, two little gold moons on each side of the opal, that symbolize a full moon. There were six diamonds embedded into the ring. Three on the top, three on the bottom. Everything had been placed on a gold band. I looked at my father, his eyes were welling with tears. 

“You've always been my little girl, and no matter where you go or where I go, I never want you to forget how much I love you.” My arms wrapped tightly around him as I practically threw myself on him, tears slipping down my face. I felt my mother’s hand on my back as she hugged us. 

“Jaskier you can come in now.” My mother called out. I could hear the door open, then soon my brother's arms were wrapped around my mother and me. All four of us were back together again. 

“Happy birthday Little Pea.” My dad whispered with a small chuckle. Jaskier laughed in my ear, making me laugh softly. The nickname my brother called me for many years had been forgotten after he left. No one else is using it. 

“I love you all.” My dad pulled me from his chest, whipping my face before grabbing the ring and putting it on my right ring finger. 

“Okay we’ll leave you with your brother to go great with your guests. Don't be too long.” My mother said, booping my nose. I laughed softly nodding. 

The two of them left the room, leaving just Jaskier and me. He turned to me, looking me up and down before bringing me into another bone-crushing hug. 

“I'm so happy you're home Jax…” I whispered into his black velvet tunic. He too looked quite dashing. His shirt was tucked into some dark blue trousers a black leather belt holding them up, and some very nicely polished black boots up his legs. His hair was curly and his smile was bright. 

“I missed you so much, Little Pea.” He pulled back and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“So Geralt spoke to me earlier today.” I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks and ears. 

“About…?” 

“He told me about the kiss last night, told me he didn't want to hurt you. I told him he had to talk to mum and dad, not me.” I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. 

“Jaskier, it's not that serious. Why would you tell him that it's not-”

“He already did it love. They gave their blessing.” 

“I...they did? For what?” 

“To court you of course!” He said with a laugh. 

“But you'll both leave soon-”

“Don't overthink it, common he's waiting outside.” He walked to the door opening it. Sure enough, there was Geralt. He was breathtakingly beautiful. He was dressed head to toe in black velvet, his hair clean and combed, pinned back, his face freshly shaved, a small rose pinned into his shirt. The first three buttons of the shirt were undone, revealing his deliciously hairy chest and his silver pendant. 

Breath.

I took a deep breath, my eyes looking him up and down taking him in. It wasn't until we met eyes I realized he was doing the same to me. 

“You look beautiful.” He breathed out, walking towards me. I reached my hands out to him, he gently took them pulling me into him, his left arm looping around my waist. Our faces inches apart. 

“You look so handsome Geralt. You clean up quite well. Black velvet is your style.” I said with a smile, my hand on his shoulder, the other still in his hand. He leaned down and softly kissed me. It was short and sweet. Yet it filled my body with warmth and butterflies. I was sure he felt the temperature of my skin change. 

“Common people are waiting for you, princess.” He whispered as he pulled away, my hand wrapping around his bicep. I looked at him as we walk down the hall towards the grand hall. 

“You are a breathtaking creature (Y/N). I do not think I have seen anyone so beautiful in my 87 years.” My heart raced in my chest as he spoke, my hand gripping his arm a little tighter. 

“No one told me I was falling for an old man.” I joked as we approached the door to the great hall. One of my father’s soldiers was waiting for us. 

“Princess.” He said with a soft bow of his head. I smiled softly at him, curtsying to him softly. 

“Derlor, it’s good to see you again.” I let go of Geralt’s arm, stepping towards Derlor hugging him gently. He was my father’s right-hand man, everything my father needed he went to Derlor. He had been working in my father’s court for nearly 30 years. 

“This will be the first birthday that I don’t get to escort you. I’m not sure what to do with myself.” I smiled and shook my head. 

“Relax, enjoy yourself. Maybe ask Hildi for a dance. You know she has a soft spot for you.” I said stepping back to Geralt’s side, my hand on his arm again. Derlor looked at the witcher next to me, eyed him up and down before stepping in front of him. 

“I know her parents like you, and I trust their judgment but understand one thing Witcher; if you hurt her in any way I will kill you. You may be a feared monster slayer but you do not scare me.” I rolled my eyes softly, everyone was going to threaten the witcher on my behalf. Flattering but annoying nonetheless. 

“If I hurt her. I will gladly lay down my blade and let you do your worst, sir.” Derlor smiled. 

“Good. Now time for your entrance princess.” He walked to the door pushing it open. I could hear the people quiet down. Geralt leaned down and kissed my cheek quickly, leaving the spot hot in his wake. Derlor stood at the end of the red rug in the center of the room. He cleared his throat. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the lady of the hour, Princess (Y/N)!” Geralt and I started walking down the center of the carpet. On either side were people from all over our kingdom. Many nobles I had known for years. I smiled at the familiar faces, as we continued walking to where my mother, father, and Jaskier. 

“As many of you know, we have been preparing our daughter to take over for us one day-“ My father said, stepping forward, taking my hand from Geralt and smiling at me. 

“But seeing as myself and my wife are in great health and nowhere near the end of our reign. And as you can all see our son has returned from his many great travels.” Vesimer walked forwards, a smile on his face and a pack in his hands. 

“Your mother and I both think you are ready my dear,” Father said looking me in the eyes. 

“Ready for what dad…?” I whispered, my voice wavering slightly, my stomach flipping and swelling. His eyes drifted behind me, looking at who I guessed was Geralt. 

“You will be leaving the kingdom for a while.” My mouth ran dry, my eyes going to Jaskier who was beaming. 

“We know that you will be in good hands, not that you need it. You will be leaving with Jaskier and Geralt and traveling the Continent to your heart’s content.” My hands squeezed into his harder as he spoke, my eyes burning with tears, my eyes bouncing between him, Jaskier, and my mother who was also near tears. 

“You need to see the world, see what you can help improve on when you take over. Meet people, taste danger a little.” My arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him tightly, my eyes closed the tears of joy slipping down my face. 

“Thank you, dad…” I whispered and he chucked. He pulled me back and Jaskier came and stood in front of me. 

“I've missed so much of your life, and I regret it so much. You have turned into such a wonderful young woman and it would be an honor if you joined us in our travels.” I could feel Geralt’s hand on my back as he stood next to me as I looked at Jaskier. My eyes gleaned at him, searching his facial features for any hesitation in the offer. 

“You’re both serious?” I asked. 

“Vesemir is very admin that you would be beneficial to me, in more ways then.” Geralt said with a small wink. 

“So what do you say, do you want to come with us?” Jaskier asked, his hands holding mine. 

“What a stupid question Jaskier! Of course, I want to!” The smile on my face nearly hurt, I had never been so happy in my life. I didn't have to say goodbye to Jaskier or Geralt, not for a while anyway. Jaskier grabbed me, pulling me into a bone-crushing hug which I gladly returned. 

“Everyone please, enjoy yourself! Food will be brought out soon!! Ale. wine and mead are already out! We thank you all so much for coming to celebrate our daughter’s birthday!” My father said to the room full of people who all clapped and cheered. 

I turned away from Jaskier to Geralt who was still standing next to me. I put my hands on his chest gently leaning into him, his hands going to my waist. 

“Are you sure you're okay with me coming along? I would hate to be a burden on you.” Geralt shook his head, smiling softly, his fingers stroking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“From what Vesemir told me today, you will only be an asset to me and my travels. Unlike your brother who just annoys me.” I laughed softly, rolling my eyes. 

“You love him,” I said with a smile. He huffed, taking my hand in his leading me to our spot at the table. 

“If you didn’t you would have never followed him for weeks to an unknown country to meet a sister you had no idea existed. Face it witcher, my brother has weaseled his way into that heart of yours.” He was filling his plate with food and a smile on the corner of his lips as he listened to me. 

He handed me the plate of food I thought he was preparing for himself. 

“Thank you, love,” I said as I took the plate from him, watching as he got some for himself. The people around us talking, laughing, and beginning the party that would surely last into the night. He leaned over, kissing my cheek softly then he started to eat. 

The party had been going for hours. Everyone was a bit drunk including me. The wine in my cup had been the fourth do far, and I'm a lightweight. My body was warm, the sweet taste of the cherry wine lingering on my lips as I listened to my brother sing and play his lute. As the song ended I put the cup down, nearly knocking it over in the process, clapping for Jaskier. 

“Jaskier come here!” I yelled with a slight giggle. He came over to me, his face red as he breathed hard, he too was drunk. 

“Any song requests my lady?” He said with a cheesy bow of his head making me laugh maybe a little too loud. 

“Sing me the song you first wrote for Geralt?” His face lit up as he looked behind me to Geralt who was sitting at the table next to Vesemir. 

“He hates that song (Y/N),” Jaskier said making me laugh more. 

“Oh but he’s never had it sang to him here! Jaskier we love him here. Common the people will sing, children will dance. Maybe hell get some coins tossed at him!” Jaskier laughed with me.

“Okay okay fine, only for you.” Jaskier walked over to the stage with the other bards whispering something to them before yelling over the crowd of people. 

“This song is for my baby sister. I haven’t sung this one in a couple of years, but I think you lot will like it more than anyone I’ve ever sung for!!!” The crowd clapped for him as they all looked at him. I glanced behind me looking at Geralt who knew what song was coming. Our eyes met. I giggles and winked at him. 

“When a humble bard

Graced a ride-along

With Geralt of Rivia

Along came this song” 

The crowd erupted into cheers, the smiles on their faces only growing, including my own. Many children ran into the middle of the room staring up at Jaskier as he sang, eyes gleaming. 

“From when the White Wolf fought

A silver-tongued devil

His army of elves

At his hooves did they revel

They came after me

With masterful deceit

Brokedown my lute

And they kicked in my teeth”

People started singing along to the second verse. The room is filled with slurred, off-tune singing of my people. The warmth spread through my chest as I saw Jaskier’s face light up in a way I had never seen before. His attention went to Geralt momentarily looking at him with the same disbelief. I looked at Geralt to see he held the same expression. His smile was genuine, eyes wide as he listened to the people listen to the song about him. I left my spot from the middle of the room, quickly walking as to not trip in my drunken state. I got to the table in front of Geralt, my smile wide as I extended my hand. 

“Care to dance with me witcher?” He cocked a curious eyebrow at me, probably due to my drunken state. 

“I'm not much of a dancer, Dove.” He said, making me shake my head walking around the table, and grabbing his arm. 

“Neither am I, that's what makes it fun.” He grunted standing, reluctantly following me into the crowd of people who cheered louder for him. 

“Toss a coin to your Witcher

O' Valley of Plenty

O' Valley of Plenty, oh

Toss a coin to Your Witcher

O' Valley of Plenty”

Jaskier and the other bards stopped playing and singing, the crowd in front of him continuing the verse. Myself included. The sound of everyone singing my brother's famed song made my heart sore, everything was perfect. Even Geralt was smiling as he let me dance and spin with his hands, once taking his eyes off my body. 

“You Witcher are a hero here!” I yellow over the music and crowd. He pulled me into him, his lips capturing my own in a very wet, sloppy kiss, impart due to my drunken state. The alcohol coring in my veins made me want to tear his clothes off then and there and let him have his way with me. But I wasn't drunk enough to let it happen. My arms wrapped around his neck as I kissed him back, the music and people drowning out of my ears as I tasted his lips. Everything about him was so intoxicating.  

After a while he pulled back, my lips wet with his salvia, my chest heaving up and down, and my mind racing. I felt dizzy from the kiss. 

“Common let’s get you some fresh air, dove.” He whispered, his arm wrapping around my waist as he led me out of the grant hall and onto a balcony. With one look from Geralt, the two love birds who were already out there left without a word. The cool night air hit my face and made me feel less dizzy. I walked over to the stone wall on the balcony, my hands resting on it, cooling me off more. Geralt's arms wrapped around my waist from behind holding me tightly and close to him. 

“You are a rather drunk princess.” I giggled and nodded. 

“I don't drink very often witcher, it goes straight to my head.” a large yawn interrupted my train of thought. Geralt chuckled and kissed my head. 

“Would you like me to take you to bed?” My eyes felt rather heavy, the winemaking me more sleepy as time progressed. 

“I'm such a  dud, it's not even midnight,” I whined, smacking my hands on the stone softly. Geralt chuckled and ran his hands up and down my arms and shoulders. 

“Common, you don't have to push yourself if you're tired.” Geralt started pulling me back to the door leading into the hallway. 

“Fine. only because you're so nice to me.” I grumbled as he led me down the hall and into my room. He shut the door behind us as I walked over to the vanity, plopping myself down. 

“I hope no one misses me too much. I desperately want out of this dress. It is beautiful but I cannot breathe.” Geralt chuckled from his spot at the door as he watched me attempt to pull the pins and brooches from my hair. I started to get frustrated, my hair being too intricately done for my drunk self. 

Geralt wordlessly walked over to me and gently started to help me pull the pins from my hair. His fingers combed softly thru my hair, scratching my scalp gently as he worked to get them out of my hair. The small action was nearly lulling me to sleep in the chair. I heard a knock at the door which snapped me out of my sleepy state, my back straightening. 

“Yes?” I turned around and saw Jaskier peeking through the door. 

“You vanished, just wanted to check-in.” I smiled sweetly at him. 

“I'm a very drunk Jaskier, I desperately want to sleep.’ He walked into the room and towards me. He was carrying a pitcher of water and a cup. 

“I figured, drink this and-” He pulled out a vial from his pocket and handed it to me.

“-Vesemir gave this to me, says it is the perfect cure for a hangover. Also gave me one.” I smiled and placed the vile on my vanity along with the water and cup. 

“Thank you, Jax.” He smiled and hugged me before turning and leaving to walk out the door, before he did he turned and pointed a finger at Geralt.

“If you decide to do anything dirty with my sister-”

“Jaskier!” I all but shrieked. 

“Just, be quiet my room isn't too far away.” I could feel my face turn bright red, my fists balled at my side as I stood from the chair. 

“I’m going to kill you.” Geralt’s arm wrapped around my waist pulling me back before I could attack my drunk brother. The door was shut and he was laughing down the hall. 

“Such a prick.” I groaned and turned around pouring myself some water and drinking it. I grabbed the vile from the table pulling the cork out. Before it could be brought to my lips Geralt stopped my hand and brought the vile to his nose. He inhaled deeply a few times before realizing my hand, 

“Just had to be sure.” I smiled and drank the contents. The taste was vile.

“Oh my god, that is awful,” I said coughing. Geralt laughed softly at me, tilting his head to the side slightly. 

“Help me unlace my corset?” I turned my back to him. I felt his fingers delicately untied the lace one by one. I took a deep breath, breathing properly again. As the lace was losing the dress started to slip down my body. I quickly caught it before it dropped down my waist. Thankfully my back was to him. I heard him clear his throat. 

“My night slip in on the bed, can you hand it to me?” I heard him move before the slip was in front of me. 

“Could you, uh turn around?” I asked. 

“Of course princess.'' After a minute I turned my head and saw he was facing the other direction. I let the dress fall from my body leaving me all but bare except for my undergarments, I slipped the night slip over my body and gently brushed his back. He turned around and smiled. 

“Stay with me?” I asked softly. 

“Of course dove.” He led me to the bed, pulling the quilts and sheets back allowing me to crawl in. I watched as he discarded his vest, and shirt leaving him in his tight trousers. My eyes wandered all over his scared torso and arms. He was breathtaking. 

“You're staring dove.” He chuckled making me blush, hiding my face in the quilts. 

“Can you blame me?” He laughed softly and walked to the door. 

“Where are you going?” I asked, sitting up slightly. 

“Just to grab something more comfortable to sleep in, Dove.” He walked out the door leaving it open. He returned minutes later, in the same sleep pants he was wearing the night before, less tight. He shut the door and the curtains, walking over to the other side of the bed before getting in. 

He scooped me up, placing me closer to him, my head on his firm chest. I could hear his heartbeat it was slow, soothing. His fingers stroked aimlessly over my body. The last thing I felt before sleep took me was his warm lips on my forehead.

@weallhaveadestiny @ayamenimthiriel @niiight-dreamerrrr @rn7rocks @fire-in-her-veinz @eternallyvenus

[twistedtummies2]

Adeuce, You Say!

Yeah, I couldn’t come up with a good title for this one, sorry. XD This is a birthday gift for a dear friend of mine, @belliesandburps. He mentioned he wanted to see Ace Trappola drinking a LOT of soda. I couldn’t think of a concept that featured JUST Ace, so I decided to throw Deuce Spade in for good measure. Hopefully he won’t mind this. ;) Happy Birthday, BNB! You’re one of the best friends a twisted whacko like myself could ever ask for. <3

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“I can’t believe you talked me into this…” “Aww, come on, don’t be a spoilsport!” You couldn’t help but blush a bit...and cursed yourself for doing so. The “fun” hadn’t even begun, and already you could feel your heartbeat with anticipation. “Don’t worry, Deuce,” you muttered. “The feeling is mutual, on my end…” Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade turned to look at you. The three of you were gathered in Ace’s room in Heartslabyul; you had cleared a table he kept in the room - which was designed to resemble a carefully-arranged house of cards - and now both he and Deuce sat at opposite ends of the short furnishing. On the floor directly in front of the table one of them had placed a recycling bin - litter was not allowed, per the Rules of the Queen of Hearts - and on the table itself were four large boxes. Two of the boxes, which sat nearest Deuce, contained twelve packs of Vanilla Cola. In contrast, the two boxes closest to Ace contained Cherry Cola. Ace smirked, tossing some of his carrot-colored hair out of his face, and winked his tattooed eye, the crimson heart shape around it flickering as his one visible cherry-toned iris twinkled with mischief-making glee. “Well, we all know why YOU agreed to this,” he teased. “C’mon, you can’t deny you’re a little...EXCITED, huh, Prefect?” “I hate you,” you droned, grumbling as you squirmed where you stood. “I hate you so much…” “Is this the reason you decided to have this contest?” frowned Deuce, his own turquoise eyes narrowing, the black spade tattoo over one of them crinkling slightly behind his dark blue bangs. “To make the Prefect a blushing mess? I think you could have waited till the next lunch hour for that.” “You are NOT helping,” you grumped, glaring at Deuce half-heartedly.

Neither of the Heartslabyul duo seemed to notice. Ace snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, that’s just a nice bonus,” he chuckled, and grinned roguishly. “Cater just told me this kinda thing is trending right now. I figure, with my talents, I’ve got a shot at getting some preeeetty good views. That’s why I asked the Prefect to film this.” He jabbed his thumb towards you; you fiddled with the cell phone in your hands, biting your lip and saying nothing. “And why choose ME to be your competitor in this?” Deuce droned. “Does humiliating me just make you feel better about yourself?” “It does. Yes. Absolutely. One hundred percent,” grinned Ace. Deuce glared. He looked to the sodas, then back at Ace...then huffed and turned away. “No,” he stated. “I’m not doing it.” “Awww, come on, you’re already here!” Ace whined. “This won’t take long!” “He does have a point,” you spoke up. “Speaking with as little obvious bias as possible…” “I already mistrust your judgment,” Deuce muttered, while Ace snickered. “...You agreed to this and came here, so you might as well see it through to the end.” “And I don’t expect you to go easy on me!” snapped Ace, lifting a finger rather dramatically. “I want a challenge!” “Then you should have asked somebody else!” Deuce exclaimed. “Why not try someone from Savanaclaw, or one of the Leech Twins?” “I said I wanted a challenge, not a suicide mission,” Ace said, bluntly. You couldn’t repress a snort of laughter. You apologized under your breath as both frowned at you before looking back to each other. “Forget it,” Deuce said firmly. “I’m not engaging in something as infantile as a soda-drinking-” “Soda-CHUGGING, Spade. Get with the times, Mr. Delinquent.” Deuce glared violently. Ace lifted his hands and mouthed a quick apology. Deuce calmed down...but only VERY slightly. “...Soda...Chugging...Contest,” Deuce corrected, grinding his teeth and turning faintly red in the face at Ace’s taunt. “I’m not doing it for you, and you can’t make me.” Ace narrowed his eyes, frowning, looking Deuce up and down for a moment...then grinned anew. “Okay,” he said, slyly. “Then don’t do it for me. There’s other reasons to try.” Deuce looked suspicious and skeptical at the same time. “Such as?” Ace responded by opening one of his cases of cherry cola and pulling a single can free. He waggled it in one hand indicatively, raising an eyebrow in Deuce’s direction. Before either yourself or Deuce could comment on the actions and ask what he was doing - he popped the can open. It hissed and crackled as the pressure was released...then, without a hint of hesitation, he tipped his head back and quickly slugged down the contents of the first can. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG… You felt those familiar stirrings start within you, as your eyes immediately zeroed in on Ace’s strong but slender throat. You watched his Adam’s Apple bounce like a rubber ball with each gulp of soda. Internally, you couldn’t help but put yourself in the drink’s place...cascading down his throat, rushing down his gullet towards the ever-hungry black hole that was his belly… You shivered at the same time he finished the can. He crushed it in one hand with relish and pitched it into the recycling bin. It clattered loudly, making Deuce jump slightly. He opened his mouth to question what all this was about, and perhaps to protest again… ...And looked up just in time to find Ace leaning over the table, mouth wide open...burping four words out. Right in his face. “YYYOOOUUU...AAAARRRRE...AAAAAA...CHIIIIIC-KEEEENNNN-UUUUURRRRRP!” Ace smirked smugly, eyes half lidded as he rested his chin in one hand and licked his lips, eyeing Deuce expectantly. Deuce blinked fast several times, his expression stunned, face speckled with spittle after the messy, wet blast...then glared. “Alright, Trappola,” he almost growled. “Now…” He opened a box. “...You’re…” He pulled out a can of his own. “...On.” SNAP-CRACKLE-POP. The first can of vanilla cola was opened, and Deuce began to chug it down with relish. Ace laughed, and quickly pulled out a second can of his own. “I knew it would work!” he sang out, and popped his own can open, and began to drink down some more cherry cola as fast as he could, eager to catch up with Deuce. You sighed; you were a captive audience to this display. Not that you minded too much, you had to admit...especially given your current position. You decided to sit down rather than stand, but there was no third chair for you to use...so you simply crossed your legs and sat on the floor. This inevitably meant looking up at the pair, and some mean, self-shaming fraction of your submissive little brain couldn’t help but mock you as you watched Deuce hurl his first can into the recycling bin carelessly before moving onto another...imagining your own self being treated with the same nonchalance. Just fuel for a greater being. “I hate my life,” you muttered to yourself. “What - HIC-URP! - what was that?” Ace chirruped. “Never mind. Keep going. First to finish all 24 cans wins.” Keep going the pair did. Gulping and slurping echoed out almost non-stop, interrupted only briefly by the crushing of cans and the sound of them falling into the bin. GLUG-CRUNCH! GULP-SCRUNCH! GOLLOP-GRUNCH! Ace frowned as he hurriedly downed his sodas; his goading of Deuce had seemingly backfired, for Spade had quickly taken a surprising lead. He was only a can ahead of Ace, but one can was all it would take. He kept glancing to Deuce to gauge his progress, eyes burning hotly like crimson flames as he gulped down soda pop after soda pop. Deuce, for his part, remained focused on the sodas themselves, chugging them down as rapidly as he could; you could actually hear the fizzing and sizzling of the carbonation as it raced down their gullets at record-breaking speed. Naturally, all that air being ingested meant pockets of gas were building up inside of both students’ guts. Ace had no problem letting those pockets burst. “BRRRRAAAAAAP! Oof...oh - UUUURRRRRRP! Ha Ha...that was a good one wasn’t it...mph...PRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEFFFFEEEEEECT?” You had to fight yourself NOT to squeak, as Ace laughed and slugged down more and more soda, burping and belching like a crass pig between every single can, clearly delighting in showing off. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t going to get him the lead back...but you were a little too loopy from the sickly-sweet smell of soda-scented stomach gas filling the air to care much. Deuce, meanwhile, handled things differently. He didn’t burp at all. Honestly, that was actually getting you even more excited; by now, he had finished six cans and was working on a seventh. (Ace was just starting his sixth can, in contrast.) The effect of so much bubbling cola pooling in his belly was starting to become obvious; he looked slightly green as his stomach audibly ROARED with all the gas building up inside...and he breathed heavily, panting almost like a huge dog in-between each can, starting with the fourth. Something had to give, and it wouldn’t be long till something did. Sure enough, after polishing off his eighth can, Deuce couldn’t hold it all in anymore. His stomach let out a lurching GRORBLE noise, and he grunted...before his eyes widened and his cheeks ballooned. He lifted a fist in a vain attempt to stifled the blast...but it was no good. His lips flapped as it bellowed forth with tinnitus-inducing volume. “GUUUUUYYYYYUUUUUHHHHHUUUUURRRRRLLLLLUUUUURRRRRP!” The explosive burp seemed to rock the room. Ace yelped, jumping in his seat just as he had finished his seventh can. He blinked with some alarm as Deuce covered his mouth. Spade hiccuped sharply and blinked, flushing red in the face as his other hand clutched his belly. The look of ripe embarrassment on his face was priceless, and you found yourself starting to giggle. “Good one,” you complimented, with a blush of your own. Deuce glared at you reproachfully. Ace began to laugh, slapping his knee. “HA HA HA HA! Wow, you’ve been holding back on us!” he cackled. “I bet even the lion would have a hard time matching that ‘roar,’ ha!” “Sh-sh-shut up!” Deuce stuttered, turning redder than ever. Ace was still sniggering as he grabbed his next can of cola and quickly swallowed it down. Deuce paused for just a few moments more, seemingly to catch his breath after that enormous eructation, but soon got back to drinking. Now the two were neck and neck. And as they drew nearer and nearer to the end of their first boxes, you realized that gas was not the only thing starting to swell and fester inside their guts. Each of the two were dressed in their Heartslabyul dorm outfits: black and white jackets lined with gold, white undershirts under color-coordinated vests - Ace wore strawberry red, and Deuce wore jet black. As they swallowed up more and more of the soft drinks, you could hear the fabric and buttons creak. The fluid and the carbonation it carried were causing both of their bellies to start to swell and stretch, growing rounder and more bloated...you bit your lip and fidgeted in place. It was so hard to stay focused on the video you were taking when real life was right before you...and ooooohhhhhh, how appealing it looked… Speaking of the video, you checked the time...and couldn’t help but whistle, impressed. “You guys work faster than I realized,” you said, with a slightly nervous chuckle. Deuce smiled almost sheepishly. Ace beamed proudly. Both cracked another can open at the exact same time. Nine cans, ten cans, eleven cans...it was no time at all before each reached the last can in their first twelve packs. You could actually hear their stomachs: their bowels growled and their guts “gulunked” as all that thick, fizzy, sugary stuff bubbled inside of them like a cauldron full of good ol’ fashioned witch’s brew. The difference was you didn’t have to worry about Mr. Crewel yapping at you about how you forgot a tablespoon of some ingredient...or the room exploding into frog zombies as a result… ...Potions class was hard… “BEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUURRRRRRRLLLLLLLLCH!” Two blasts of gas - simultaneously synchronized - sonorously blew forth, sounding out like a foghorn and causing the table legs to rattle. You blushed bright red as the abrasive sound caught your attention, and you found yourself looking up at the pair as they paused in their drinking. They had each polished off their first twelve pack, and were lounging back in their seats. Deuce grunted as he began to fiddle with the buttons of his vest, grumbling under his breath about how they had “shrunk in the wash” recently… ...Bless his heart… Ace, meanwhile, let out another crass, shameless belch out of the corner of his mouth - “BRRRRAAAACK!” - and sighed as he drummed his fingers over his swollen stomach. He winced with discomfort at the tightness of his clothes on his belly...but made no move to loosen anything. Instead he looked down at you...and smirked cockily, holding his head high. “Heh heh...havin’ fun down there? Enjoying the show?” he teased. “You know, if Riddle found you both like this, he’d have you both beheaded,” you answered. Deuce froze. Ace gulped nervously. “You wouldn’t,” both said at once. “If Ace here doesn’t stop kink-teasing me, I might,” you smiled oh-so-innocently. Deuce sighed with relief; that was a sure sign to him you weren’t serious. Ace, meanwhile, frowned and grumbled, looking off to the side with a pout. “If I was that lion, you’d be melting like ice cream,” he grumbled. You were about to respond to that when suddenly, Deuce let out a deep sound - somehow groaning and burping at the same time. “Grrrrooooouuuurrrrrrllllllph...mmmaaahhh…” You almost swore your heart skipped a beat as you looked towards him. He had undone his vest and his trouser buttons, and his eyes were fluttering. From under his plain white undershirt, his pale-skinned belly spilled into his lap, his shallow navel winking into view as it sloshed into place, freed of most restraints and sloshing full of soda. “Ohhhh...that feels so much better,” he sighed out...then blinked...and blushed bright red as he realized both you and Ace were staring at him. “Er...uh...I just...um…” “Well,” smirked Ace. “So much for the stuffed shirt Honors Student, huh?” ‘I-I am not a stuffed shirt!” exclaimed Deuce. “Nope. Just a very stuffed Spade,” you couldn’t help but quip. Deuce gave you a look that was best described as “Et tu, Prefect?” Ace cackled; his gut sloshed and bounced with his mirth. Then, a lightbulb seemed to go over his head, and he began to fiddle with his own buttons… GUBLORSH. “BRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOORRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIP! Whew...MAN, that feels good…” You were internally squeeing, and biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood (almost) as you saw Ace’s belly spill into his lap. He sighed, eyes fluttering with relief...then gave a grin to Deuce, who was staring as if he didn’t know how to react. “There. Now we’re even,” Ace sing-songed. Deuce looked somewhat dubious. “Is that why you did that? Or just to try and make the Prefect’s ears steam?” Now it was YOUR turn to give Deuce the “Et tu?” look. Ace shrugged cheerfully, and patted his belly with pride. “Neither! Just wanted to relieve the pressure. But come on, even if I HAD been, would it be right to hide this perfection away?” “Do you ever think of anything but yourself?” “If you looked like this, would you?” Both you and Deuce shared a look as Ace grunted, stifling a burp with one fist before opening up his second twelve pack. “HHHRRRLLLMMMPH...well, twelve more to go...game’s not over yet. Unless you wanna throw in the towel…” “Not a chance!” declared Deuce, opening his next twelve pack up. “I’m getting you back for that belch in the face!” Ace just guffawed as he pulled another can free, popped it open, and began to drink again. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG… Deuce was quick to follow suit; once again, they were consuming soda almost at the same speed and time. The first can for each vanished within three seconds flat...then came the second...then the third...and then the fourth… It was as they began to guzzle down the fifth can each - which, really, meant the seventeenth - that you started to notice a few things. The first was that you could hear the soda pooling inside their bodies. You could actually detect the sound of it pouring down their gullets and into their massively swollen tankers, like twin waterfalls dropping down into huge basins. You felt your toes curl in your shoes; the heavy saturation of sugar was making them sound aggressively “grumbly,” gurgling and sloshing with the might of ocean waves. These sounds only seemed further amplified by the second thing you noticed, which was the view. Again, you were seated before the two, looking up at them...which meant those giant bellies looked even bigger and more looming than usual. You were NOT going to give either of them (especially Ace) the satisfaction of acting like a mouse, but it was so hard not to FEEL like one...especially as those massively rounded guts continued to swell and grow as they drank more and more. By the time they had begun their second round, their midsections looked as if each had swallowed a football whole. Now, they were inching out further and further, rolling into their laps and making their shirts ride up further and further, exposing more and more of their soft, tender skin… Forget the soda chugging; the real contest in YOUR mind was which belly you wanted to just bury your face and fingers in the most! You somehow held back, though your fingers twitched around the phone you held. The mixture of the noises and the continuing growth, however, led to a third realization: as the pair plucked up their sixth cans each, you abruptly noticed both were starting to slow down. They were huffing and puffing from the weight in their bellies, and once in a while would flinch as their guts “blurgled” sloppily around their hyper-saccharine contents. “Oooof,” groaned out Ace, as he cracked his can open. “I’m...mph...g-gettin’ kinda heavy…”

“Same - HIC! - ugh, same here,” hiccuped Deuce, and gave a determined glare. “But...b-but I’m not quitting yet.” His words were ruined by his stomach ROARING, and he winced, clutching it with his free hand. Ace just smirked, saying nothing, and the two clinked their cans together as if in toast before downing their sixth drinks. Eighteen down now, and only six more to go. GRORLP...BLLLRRRG...RRRRRAAAAAWWWWWRRRRRLLLLLB…! The sounds of gastric effort resounded through Ace’s room as he and Deuce continued to consume their sodas. Deuce was no longer holding back his gas; Ace certainly hadn’t started doing so. They hiccuped more than once, each letting out a BELCH or BURP freely in-between drinks as they downed their nineteenth, twentieth, and twenty-first sodas. The recycling bin, by now, was overflowing; you glanced back over your shoulder, grateful you had locked the door. With cans now just dropping to the floor in crumpled heaps, if Riddle Rosehearts were to walk in, it would be off with all your heads, you had no doubt. You were also glad Grim was out practicing his fire magic with Ortho; the loudmouthed imp might have caused problems there. It was a miracle all the gassy eruptions hadn’t roused much attention beyond the room, to begin with. Each of the competitors reached for their twenty-second cans; your eyes widened as you looked towards Deuce. Ace was panting and grunting, but his general motions hadn’t slowed down much. However, Deuce had clearly grown more sluggish: he had a lot more inner capacity than most folks realized (though certainly no match for the likes of some aforementioned students), but he was “out of training” on that front. It was obvious that he hadn’t consumed this much soda at once in a long time (if ever at all), and he looked both tired and a little queasy. He drank more slowly, and it looked like he was trying hard just to get it all down… Ace had pulled ahead at the very last minute: he was now on his twenty-third can of soda, and Deuce had just finished the twenty-second. By the time Deuce had started on his twenty-third, Ace was about to begin his final drink! Deuce let out a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a whimper - a difficult noise to describe, indicating sickly desperation - and tried to chug down his twenty-third cola as fast as he could… It wasn’t fast enough. Ace cracked open his twenty-fourth can - the last one in his box - and swilled it down so swiftly, you could have sworn he just inhaled it all in a single swallow. “Guh!” gasped out Ace, and hiccuped loudly - he bounced in his seat from the force of it, his gut sloshing like a water balloon against his thighs - and let the can drop from his grip. “Oooooh...ohhhhh, soooooo full...UUUURRRRP! Ah...haaaah, I f-feel like I’m gonna - HIC! - ohhhh, gonna burst…” He shivered; his expression still bore a smile - though it was slightly forced. You couldn’t help but imagine the phrase “hurts so good” applied to how he had to be feeling right about now. Lazily, languidly, he turned his head to look at Deuce as Deuce moaned with discomfort and tossed his second-to-last can of Vanilla Cola aside. “I win,” Ace grinned. Deuce looked at him in a slow, bleary way, as if he were struggling to stay awake. He hiccuped and groaned; his cheeks swelled, as if he were trying to keep his stomach’s contents in place. He didn’t say a word, just glared at Ace, sullenly. “Awww, don’t be...mph...like that,” Ace said, shifting his posture in his seat. “There’s...ngh...still one can left...g-go ahead. Finish it off.” “What’s the point?” huffed Deuce, and clutched his bare belly tightly as it “glarbled” in a nauseous way. “You already...ow...beat me..” “Well,” Ace cooed, “If you don’t think you can handle...just...one...more…” He started to subtly reach towards Deuce’s box. Something seemed to flare up, and Deuce’s aquamarine eyes flashed with newfound fire. He snatched up his final can of cola before Ace could grab hold of it. Ace smirked triumphantly as he watched his friend down the last of the sodas with gusto. “Gets ‘im every time,” he muttered to himself. You just rolled your eyes. Deuce threw his final can aside and groaned louder than before. He hiccuped and once again looked as if he had to struggle to avoid feeling sick as his breath became shallow and shaky. “Grrrrooooohhhhhh...wh-why...why did I...UUUUUURRRRRRK...agree to this…?” “Wimp,” mumbled Ace, only to quiver and let out a raspy breath of his own, as his stomach rumbled so loudly it visibly vibrated. “Hhhnnnaaaaahhhhhh...Chernabog’s horns, I’m - BRRRUUUOOORRRLLLK - soooooo STUFFED now...haven’t - URP - drank that much in my...m-my life…” You quickly turned off the video, stopping the recording...mostly because you did NOT want it to pick the inevitable “meep” sound you made as you openly ogled your two friends and their bloated bodies. It looked as if they had swallowed a couple of prize-worthy pumpkins whole, their sagging, sloshing stomachs as round and heavy as a pair of medicine balls. “I don’t feel so good,” moaned Deuce. “Speak for yourself,” Ace sighed. “This is AMAZING…” “You can say that again,” you gulped to yourself. “Huh?” both slurred out. “Nothing, guys, nothing,” you said, shaking your head. You got up onto your knees and shuffled towards them. Ace gave you a slothful smirk. “Hey, kneeling before my superior awesomeness?” he teased. “I always knew you would.” You gave him a bored look and responded by lifting a hand and jabbing at his stomach. His belly wobbled with a sound like a water bed. He hissed through gritted teeth before belching messily like a total pig. “BLLLLLLUUUUUURRRRRYYYYAAAAAOOOORRRRRRLLLLLLGP! Oof...okay, okay, sorry...ow, that one kinda hurt,” grunted Ace, thumping his chest with a fist and working up a shorter, softer after burp which you could barely hear. Considering how much your ears were ringing, that wasn’t necessarily a bad point. “You won the match,” you said to Ace. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start treating you like some kinda overlord or whatever.” Ace grumbled unintelligibly. Deuce smirked with satisfaction, tainted only slightly by his clearly ill state. It vanished as his belly burbled noisily however, and he had to fight back a whimper. You smiled sympathetically. “Maybe next time you’ll beat him,” you suggested. “You’re insinuating there may BE a next time,” Deuce groused. “Never. Again.” You had a feeling Ace would find a way to push the not-so-stoic student’s buttons in another direction, but you didn’t say so. Instead, you started to stand. “I’ll get you something to settle your stomach,” you offered Deuce. “Uh...c-could you get me somethin’, too?” Ace asked, and let out an embarrassed, soft laugh as he winced courtesy of a loud gut rumble of his own. “I, uh...mph...I think maybe I’m gonna need it sooner or later...ouch…” You rolled your eyes, but said you would, and started to stand up, patting your knees… ...Only to freeze up short as, suddenly, Deuce grabbed hold of your arm. “Wait...um...maybe you...don’t have to go anywhere?” he suggested. You blinked at him, confused, and cocked your head to one side questioningly. Deuce bit his lip...took a breath...and then tried to elaborate. “You, uh...we both know you have those… ‘Magic Fingers’ of yours, so...maybe...maybe a little bit of that m-might help?” You blinked again, more slowly than before, trying to process what Deuce was asking. “...Are you saying you...want a...a belly rub?” you checked, cautiously. “Only if you don’t mind!” Deuce insisted. “Heeeey, you can’t hog the belly rubs!” Ace cried out. “Besides, we all know mine is a lot softer and smoother than yours!” “Is not.” “Is too!” “Is not.” “Is too!” “Is...this REALLY an argument we’re having?” “Yep. Seems that way.” You were blushing too much to remember how to laugh. “I mean...if you’re...SURE you want it,” you said, in a quiet, quavering voice. Deuce nodded, an almost pleading look in his eyes. Ace grinned and nodded as well, more enthusiastically. You took a deep breath to steady yourself - it was hard to believe you were this lucky - and directed the pair to move closer together. They did, pulling their chairs forward and sideways...and you scurried between them, biting your lip as you looked between their twin bellies, almost identical in shape, size, and apparent texture. Then...unable to repress a little happy shiver of your own...you placed one hand on each of their stomachs, and began to work them over. Your fingers kneaded into the flesh, feeling the soft, supple surface of each titanic tummy. You trailed your fingertips over the plumpened sides and across the curve of their silky-smooth underbellies. You patted them, making both guts bounce and jiggle, and even drew figure-eights around their navel areas. Both of your friends sighed deeply and all but melted at your touch, their arms going limp, heads lolling back, jaws agape as they savored the sensations. “Oohhhhh...oh, no wonder you like doing this,” Ace drawled out. “This is...mmmm, this is AMAZING…” “That’s...ahhhh...mmmmm, that’s soothing,” Deuce crooned. “Thank you, Prefect…” “My pleasure, guys,” you blushed, giving their guts a couple of smacks. “My pleasure.” The pair just grinned and made happy humming sounds as they were pampered and spoiled. You couldn’t help but smile wider as you gave their greedy guts a couple of jiggles, hearing the thick soda-fueled stew slosh and splash and swirl about inside their bodies, so close to you… You were unaware of the fact that, as you worked on both bellies, the two opened one eye each, and looked to each other. Ace grinned wickedly...and Deuce smirked with faint impishness as well… ...And then… WHURLMPH. You let out a muffled yelp as, without warning, the pair shifted their postures...and now, both bellies were smushing agaisnt you, the warm curves of each swollen stomach heating up your already nearly-steaming cheeks. You blinked up shyly as you pushed against both guts to try and find some wiggle room...and your friends smiled down at you with almost identical expressions of mischievous affection. “Beter enjoy it while you can,” whispered Deuce. “Yeah,” chuckled Ace, and winked. “It’ll only be a week till we have our eating contest!” “Eating contest?” Deuce scowled. “Who said anything about that?” “Well...if you don’t think you have a chance at winning…” “I can eat you under a table any day!” “I dare you to prove it!” You sighed and shook your head, the soft flesh sliding across your own as you kneaded and caressed the bellies of your best friends. “Friends with benefits,” you were discovering, was a phrase with more than one definition… ...You hoped their argument wouldn’t go too quickly, though...right now, there was nowhere else you wanted to be, as you nuzzled against Ace’s stomach and patted Deuce’s with a smile. One of these days, you figured, you’d need to see a psychiatrist. But it was not this day.

The End

[anon-rebel-writes]

Utterly In Love

I have no idea how this idea came to me. I got a bit of second-hand embarrassment writing this XD

Although this story is a bit strange, I hope you all enjoy it!

The story begins under the cut! Ao3 Link

Luka doesn’t regret this job. He’s doing this for Juleka’s birthday. He doesn’t feel embarrassed about this job! Why would Luka ever feel bad about this job? He needs the extra money for a gift, so he has no reason to complain.

Although Luka tried to tell himself that things could always be worse, he couldn’t help the feeling of regret that was bubbling inside his gut.

It seemed normal when he interviewed. The position listing was vague, but how bad could a job at an ice cream shop be? While he’d probably have to deal with the occasional upset customer, it didn’t seem like a job he couldn’t do. But then he got there on his first day and the owner handed him a costume.

A cow costume. A cow costume with pink spots. While that was bad enough, the cow was also supposedly ‘modest’, because it also wore a blue frilly apron with the shop logo on the front.

Luka had no regrets. He needed the extra money for Juleka’s gift. He was doing this for his sister, so he couldn’t be upset. Honestly, he had no one to blame but himself. He should’ve asked more questions about the job a little more during the interview.

Any shame he had could easily be hidden under the cow’s head, so he could suck it up for three hours a day. As long as he couldn’t be recognized, he had no reason to hold regret. The job wasn’t even bad! Although the heat of the sun was cooking him alive inside the pink cow of death, all he had to do was pass out samples. That wasn’t bad! That was easy!

At least that’s what he thought, until a certain blonde girl’s scream pierced his ears.

“OH MY GOSH! I LOVE YOUR COSTUME!” Rose quickly ran up to him and looked him over. She lunged herself into his arms, nearly knocking over the samples, and gave him a crushing hug.

“You’re so pretty! I love the pink on your fur! And your apron! You’re beautiful!”

Luka took a couple of deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. All he could do was nod at Rose. The last thing he wanted was for her to find out he was under the costume. Because with Rose finding out, that meant Juleka would find out. If Juleka found out, then she’d ask why he got a job dressing up like a cow.

The gift idea would be ruined and he would have to live through the embarrassment of Juleka teasing him daily. Which may or may not lead to a certain lady who had completely stolen his heart finding out. Which also may or may not lead to him dying of mortification.

So him keeping his mouth shut could save him from any of those scenarios.

“Rose! Please don’t harass the worker!” Then he heard that voice, that sweet, melodic voice that could only belong to one person.

Regret. Now Luka Couffaine could only feel regret.

Marinette, Juleka, and Alya finally caught up to Rose. “We’re so sorry about her! She just gets a little excited when she sees anything pink and cute.” ‘Oh my god, she just called me cute,’ the boy-cow thought.

After a bit of pulling and yanking, they finally managed to pry the pink girl off of the costume. But suddenly, Luka felt a lot more exposed. He tried to use the tray of samples to hide himself as he turned his gaze away from the pink girl who just got ripped from him. His eyes unconsciously wandered over to Marinette, who wore a simple pink dress with matching sandals. Her set of pigtails were now being held up with a matching pink ribbon. She looked so effortlessly put together.

If the heat of the sun and embarrassment didn’t kill him, seeing the girl of his dreams dressed so nicely surely will.

“Oh are these samples?” Luka finally managed to tear his gaze away from Marinette to look at Alya. She pointed right to the tray in his hands. He was about to answer before remembering what he was wearing. Instead, he held out the tray to silently offer it to the group.

Each girl took a cup and took a bite. He watched as each girl quietly hummed in content. But Marinette’s eyes shot up and she looked straight into the cow’s eyes. “Wow! This is delicious! It tastes just like blueberries!”

Alya and Juleka exchanged sly looks as they watched Marinette hurry to finish her cup. Alya stealthily put an arm around the girl’s shoulders and leaned into her. “Well, we all know how you feel about blueberries,” she teased.

Marinette lifted an eyebrow up at her and looked at the other girls in the group. Rose was squealing and bouncing in place while Juleka rolled her visible eye. “Gross. You haven’t seen him in a day and you’re already thinking about Luka again?”

While Marinette began to quickly defend herself, Luka’s brain felt like it shut off. Maybe he had been boiled inside the suit. He must be dead. This couldn’t actually be happening. His mouth was completely slack and his eyes were about as large as the cow’s.

“W-what?! No! Me and Luka? I mean- Luka and I? Never! He’s cool and interesting and dreamy and amazing and kind- I MEAN! Even if he is sweet and selfless and attractive- NOT ATTRACTIVE! I-”

Alya howled with laughter and clutched her stomach, interrupting Marinette’s rambling. Juleka let out a soft chuckle while Rose joined with her screams of joy. “Girl! You are SO into him.” Luka was barely listening now. His own heartbeat was ringing in his ears, beating abnormally fast, and Rose’s high pitched screaming didn’t help his focus.

His face was definitely flushed, at least this costume helped him hide it. He happened to glance at Marinette again. She had moved from under Alya’s arm and was now beet red. She looked at the ground wringing out her hands, but she had a slight smile on her face.

‘Wait. She’s not denying it. Oh my god. I did die, didn’t I?!’

“Oh! I have an idea!” Marinette met Rose’s eyes through her bangs while Alya and Juleka managed to stop laughing enough to face the pink girl. “You could ask Luka out! Ask him to come here with you! That way you don’t have to hunt down Andre’s cart and still share ice cream together! Plus they have a blueberry flavor! It’s so romantic!”

Juleka and Alya turned to Marinette with excitement painted across their faces. But Marinette could only pout and shake her head. “No, I think I already missed my chance with him. I didn’t return his feelings the first time; I doubt he’d give me a second chance now.”

The girls all let out a defeated sigh before it was interrupted. “You should ask him.”

Suddenly all four sets of eyes were staring at him. ‘Wait, did I say that? Why did I say that?!’ He turned his head to face Marinette. Her cheeks weren’t as red as before, but her mouth was agape as she looked back at him.

“What I meant was- Well, maybe he really wants to ask you out, but he also wanted to go at your own pace?” Suddenly the identity beneath the cow was clear and all the girls widened their eyes.

“Y-you’re-”

Before she could begin her over-thinking, Luka held up a hoof to stop her. “I have like, ten more minutes before I can de-cow. Do you think you’d wanna hang out afterwards? If everyone else is okay with it?”

Marinette whipped her head around to look at the other girls. Rose was clinging onto Juleka’s arm bouncing around with an ecstatic look on her face. Juleka shared a similar look, although it was a lot more reserved. Alya quickly waved her hands to let Marinette know it was okay.

With their approval, she turned back to the cow with a timid smile on her face. “That sounds perfect-” Rose let out another shriek and quickly pulled Marinette into the shop. Alya and Juleka shared a quick fist bump and then the former followed the other two inside.

Juleka looked at Luka before rolling her visible eye at him. “We’re talking about this when you get home,” she mumbled before also making her way inside.

Luka didn’t regret his job. Maybe he has a bit of disdain for the pink cow, but in the end he had no reason to feel negative about it anymore. After all, he had a date with a very cute girl afterwards thanks to the cow. So really, he was very pleased with his new job. It seemed like things were looking up. He didn’t even seem to mind the mild embarrassment he was feeling due to the costume.

Until Juleka came back outside and took pictures of him in said costume, for future blackmail.

[morifinwes]

Lauraa I finished all the fics, apart from decay (currently reading that now) and I love it sm! Especially the lip gloss one lmao the whole thing was so hilarious to me XD but also like the concept of lwj wearing lipgloss is >>> -yibobibo

@yibobibo then i'm going to rec you some more!! the lip gloss one was !!!!! ajsksks yes!! lwj wearing lipgloss is just so!! good!!

modern

this one is the painful one i talked about:

visitations by var_abelasan (12K, wip, divorced wangxian, post divorce, most of this is angst, uhm lowkey don't but also do want wangxian to end up together, it's messy, the jiangs & lans are shitty, wwx was in prison (brief mentions of that but it's kind of a major plot point), mxy & xy are the little brothers he never wanted but wwx picked them up anyways)

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry." 

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine. 

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

 

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

please don't let me be misunderstood by sysrae (3K, partly deaf!wwx, lwj notices, nobody else does though, idk wwx is like made out of fucking steel or some shit)

Lan Wangji has known Wei Ying for a fortnight, the first time he sees him get hit by a car.

light by redkosmos (10K, blind!lwj, which causes angst, but they manage it, best friends to lovers, fluff, lwj being insecure and feeling like a burden, college au kind of? but it doesn't matter too much)

The realization slowly dawns on him.

He can never again see the brightness of Wei Ying's eyes, the way they crescent when he smiles, never again see the rich black of his hair, the mess of it in the early mornings, never again see the beautiful tan of his skin, the beauty of the scars and marks adorned on it, how he wears his clothes, how it hugs his frame beautifully, how he looks like he's adorably swimming in cloth when he wears Lan Zhan's, and-

(Lan Zhan loses his vision in a car accident and learns to cope with it.)

don't leave me by trippinonskies (19K, brief very brief mention of lwj cheating, he doesn't but wwx is afraid lwj is cheating on him or just wants to break up with him, (he doesn't), marriage proposal, lwj acting distant = wwx's insecurities show up, fluff, angst and comfort)

Lan Zhan! Where are you lost today?” Wei Wuxian finally asks, at the end of his patience.

Lan Zhan looks a little guilty as he looks at Wei Wuxian, “Sorry, just a lot of work to deal with.”

Lie.

If there is one thing Lan Zhan can’t do, it’s lying. Especially to Wei Wuxian. But he doesn’t question Lan Zhan. He just accepts the reply, too scared to know that he is right. Too scared to know the truth.

// or where Lan Zhan is too hung up in planning the perfect proposal and ends up accidently ignoring Wei Wuxian making the other think that he wants to break up //

want you closer by xiaobucephalus ((3K, HORSES, only in the background tho, but wwx is an equestrian vet, which is so fucking valid bro, the lans own horses, a sick bunny, lwj the bunny parent!, super cute, dark bay throughoutbred chenqing is honestly so valid)

“Thank you,” Lan Zhan said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Don’t thank me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughed again, his voice warming the chill of fear that had settled in his chest. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get into your hutch for a while anyway.”

safe in your thoughts by anonymous (20K, it's a cherry magic au???? (i haven't watched it, but you have i think?), horny lwj but only for wwx (always for wwx))

Wei Wuxian learns three very important things on the night of his twenty-seventh birthday.

One, that Lan Wangji is ridiculously funny, which Wei Wuxian had known before but what Wei Wuxain hadn’t expected was Lan Wangji to be funny at his brother’s expense.

Two, that Wei Wuxian had finally gone mad, absolutely mental at the ripe age of twenty seven because nothing else would explain the third thing he had learnt.

Third, and the most unbelievable of the lot, that Lan Wangji wants to fuck him.

iura by yoo_im_finally_writing (1K, only added bcs op is right and wwx would've the cutest german accent, it's more fun if you understand german so hit me up if you want translations for the german sentences)

Wei Ying calls in the middle of the night to talk about German law, and Lan Zhan tries very hard not to fall asleep. Or at least, not to let Wei Ying notice he's falling asleep. (As best friends do.)

breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm / @neverdoingmuch (27K, getting together, jealous!lwj, but also kind of supportive, brief mention of cheating bcs of miscommunication, no actual cheating tho, college au, lwj pov)

Following Wei Ying’s line of sight, Lan Wangji can barely prevent a smile from crossing his lips when he sees the short row of rabbit statuettes placed at the front of the display. Silver, with bright gems for eyes, they look elegant yet lively and animated.

“A-Yuan would love one of those,” Wei Ying murmurs, almost as if to himself.

Lan Wangji frowns; the rabbits, while cute, don’t seem like a suitable gift for Wei Ying’s A-Yuan.

...

It’s only when he glances back at the rabbits and notices what has been placed on display behind them, that the pieces fall into place. They’re engagement rings, there’s no doubt about it. Lan Wangji feels his heart sink – Wei Ying isn’t just dating A-Yuan, he wants to propose to him.

Or: the five times Lan Wangji thinks that A-Yuan is Wei Ying’s boyfriend and the one time he learns the truth.

paint smears on sunny days by snowshadowao3 / @angstsexual (53K, getting together, art teacher!wwx, single parent!lwj, they're rich if i remember right, wwx & lwj are both good with kids!!!, this is so good actually, fluff)

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

no bunny compares by gusucloudbunny (4K, god this is cute, fluff)

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cornered his friend one week before his birthday. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

Lan Wangji furrowed his brow at Wei Wuxian, not exactly sure how to answer that question in a truthful manner that didn’t involve confessing his undying love for his best friend.

Wei Wuxian is on a mission to get Lan Wangji the perfect gift for his birthday. What Wei Wuxian doesn't know is that the only thing Lan Wangji truly wants is him.

wei wuxian's week of realizing things by photojenny (12K, i have read this multiple times, i always forget what happens, idk why but my notes say it's good, the tags say drunkji makes an appearance and i'm always up for that)

"Lan Zhan, do you like Mianmian?" asked Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji blinked, and stared. It was not the first time Lan Wangji had questioned the perceptiveness of the boy he had a crush on. Wei Wuxian had been smart in the class they had taken together. Yet time and time again, Wei Wuxian had tested the old wisdom that there are no stupid questions.

---

Lan Wangji must figure out how to confess when Wei Wuxian is the most oblivious person he's ever met.

are you my wisdom tooth? because i'd like to take you out by yellowcarnations (1K, crack, fluff, lwj stop flirting with a stranger, even if he is your husband, drunkji but make it to max level)

Lan Zhan wakes up and he has no idea where he is.

There are bright lights and his jaw hurts, he doesn't who this man next to his bed is but oh he might be in love, maybe, probably, definitely.

–

based off that guy-forgets-who-his-wife-is-and-hits-on-her vid but its wangxian.

beep! goes his heart by wearing_tearing (3K, fluff, lwj is like "he, he likes me right? he likes me" and everyone is like "yes, yes he does")

“Wei Ying’s heart monitor,” Lan Wangji starts.

Wen Qing blinks at him. “Yes?”

“It beeps.”

“That’s… what they generally do, yes.”

“The beeps change,” Lan Wangji continues, “when others are around.”

*

Wei Ying’s heart only sings for Lan Wangji.

canon

obedient and bellicose by thunderwear (19K, lwj is cursed by the lan elders, they notice too late, fix-it fic kind of?, lqr being a good uncle and lxc is a good brother, wwx accidentally uses the curse but he doesn't know about it)

It took Lan Wangji a long time to realize he was cursed. Too long really, anyone else would have noticed so much sooner. The problem was, he liked following the rules.

Ella Enchanted AU that no one needed but I wanted.

hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (10K, amnesia, fluff, wwx taking care of lwj, so much fluff and softness, angst too but not that much)

The issue is, Lan Wangji brings his thoughts back before they stray too far, that it is impossible for someone to be in his bed, unless Lan Wangji himself invited them. He has not. He would remember doing so, and besides, all his night clothes are still on and there is no headache to imply that he was inebriated last night. No, the situation is simple.

There is someone in Lan Wangji’s bed. It is impossible for anyone to be in Lan Wangji’s bed, and yet that doesn’t seem to have stopped the stranger.

or lan wangji wakes up, and wei ying is there. he doesn't understand how or why, and he can understand even less why his hallucination of wei ying is so insistent on bathing him, and braiding his hair, on holding him and fixing his clothes. why the hallucination of wei ying seems so happy to see him.

teach me the way by likeafox (58K, rogue cultivator!wwx, horny wangxian, lwj wants wwx to teach him how to be a good lover, ....wwx is a virgin, the porn is the plot, but there's less of it than i thought)

"I do not wish to leave my future spouse… dissatisfied with my intimate knowledge,” Lan Zhan says, very seriously. “I am hoping to find an instructor, to better prepare myself for such matters."

Wei Ying feels his mouth drop open. He's pretty sure the Second Jade of Lan just told him he's a virgin who wants to learn how to do sex good.

Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian is the stuff of local legends. Some of those legends are even true! The ones about his tremendous experience in bed, on the other hand, are not so true. Which becomes a problem when Lan Wangji, on the verge of an arranged marriage and worried he won’t know how to please his future spouse, enlists Wei Ying's help to teach him the art of love-making. Wei Ying's great at improvisation, though, and is pretty sure he's got this sex mentor thing under control. What could possibly go wrong

other aus

of god: my love unholy by tunnelodfawn (3K, tw blood / war, dark!lwj, god!wwx, kind of poetry)

Lan Zhan takes everything as a sign from his god. The blood staining his fingertips—a holy anointment. He sanctifies himself through blood. The strings of his guqin gleam red in the sun—a divine blessing. This is an instrument of destruction. A single note—a cry of power—and in this note the voice of his god unravels the earthly threads tethering man to earth.

The Yiling Patriarch blesses Lan Zhan with war. Wei Wuxian blesses Lan Zhan with agility. Wei Ying blesses Lan Zhan with love.

The base of the Yiling Patriarch’s shrine is the home of Lan Zhan’s knees. He worships. There is something of the blasphemous and the unholy in his prayers. He prays not for victory but for the sight of Wei Ying. Bless me with your presence, he begs.

Or, wherein, Lan Zhan bridges the gap between the mortal and the divine—the worshipper and the god—with blood.

the river and the sea by sasamelons / @sasamelons (7K, soulmate au, arranged marriage (wangxian with each other), they're both kind of dumb but i love it)

Lan Wangji gritted his teeth, wishing to just be left alone. "I am looking for my soulmate," he ground out.

"Oh."

It took Lan Wangji a few moments to realize that Wei Wuxian had stopped following him. When he looked back, the other boy seemed to be frozen to the spot, eyes wide and lips still parted. He quickly looked away when he saw Lan Wangji looking back. "I see. Well, have a good trip!"

--

At six years old, Lan Zhan met his soulmate on the streets of Yiling and promptly lost him again.

At sixteen years old, Lan Wangji met his betrothed and was determined not to like him.

[iffeelscouldkill]

TSCOSI Week Day 1: Violet / Nature

A/N: I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO BE A WHOLE DAY LATE FOR THIS AND THEN IT TURNED OUT THAT THE WEEK STARTS ON THE 25TH! Made it with 35 minutes to spare in my timezone dfsgghshshjs

(Watch me now be late for every single other day because I spent all my time on this one fic and have nothing else written for the other days xD)

Anyway, this is Day 1, prompt: Violet/Nature! It’s set kind of ambiguously around season 2, i.e. they’re on the Iris II, but there’s no other specific references to events of season 2, so this is spoiler-free!

Enjoy!

Violet sneaked as quietly as she could through the corridors of the ship, doing her best to conceal the bundle under her arm. The seller at the market stall had been nice enough to wrap it up in extra paper for her to disguise its shape, though he’d cautioned that she should be sure to unwrap it as soon as she had the opportunity.

She just needed to avoid bumping into anyone on her way to her room who might ask what she-

“Did you get what you needed?”

“Gah!” Violet jumped and whirled around, then relaxed when she saw who it was. “Uh, sorry, Captain, I thought you were – yes, I did, thank you.”

Sana eyed the bundle under her arm with interest. “Am I allowed to know what you doubled back for?”

“It’s uh…” Violet hesitated. It wasn’t Sana she was trying to keep it a secret from – if anything, Sana was the ideal person to confide in, but she felt suddenly embarrassed, wondering if she’d misjudged her spur-of-the-moment decision. “It’s something for Thursday.”

“Oh!” Sana’s face lit up. “Violet, that’s great. I’ve bought some ingredients to make one of her favourite dishes for dinner, but she’ll definitely love your… mystery gift. And if you need any help getting her in place for the surprise, just let me know!”

Violet smiled at her. “I will, Captain. Thank you. And thanks for… telling me, as well.”

“Of course!” Sana replied, beaming and dimpling at her.

Back in the safety of her room, Violet was finally able to unwrap her purchase. Her room had a kind of desk that folded down from the wall, and Violet unfolded it so that she could set the little terracotta pot with its seedling occupant on its surface. Then she studied it.

To say that Violet was not naturally green-fingered would be an understatement; if anything, she had a flair for killing off plant life, and her friends and roommates had learned very quickly not to trust her with anything green and growing. People had a tendency to gift her with pot plants (the joys of having a flower name), and Violet had taken to lying through her teeth when asked about how they were faring. She’d once had a cactus that had survived for a record six months before dying of what was either neglect or possibly a lack of sunlight.

So the fact that Violet needed to take care of this plant until she could give it to Arkady on her birthday in a week’s time wasn’t ideal. Sana had been the one who’d told her about Arkady’s approaching birthday, explaining that it had taken her years of friendship to even pry the date out of Arkady. “She says that she hates people making a fuss,” Sana explained. “But I think it’s because she could never… do much for it, growing up. I’ve tried to make up for that where I can.” She’d given Violet a significant look at that point.

Violet also didn’t think it was a coincidence that Sana had told her this right before they were due to land and resupply near a harbour town with an extensive marketplace.

Violet had only caught sight of the little stall with its rows of pots and tiny green shoots as they were leaving the market. She’d waved the others on ahead, and then covertly made her way over to the stall to inspect the range of plants and their prices.

It was a shame that they hadn't had any fully-grown varieties, but the stallholder had assured her that it would be much more rewarding to grow and take care of from a seedling. “You don't have the bother of germinating it, but you get to watch it grow," he said. “Just make sure you water it regularly, and keep it in a semi well-lit spot.”

Violet hadn’t liked to ask what that would look like on a spaceship. She hadn’t been prepared to rehearse too much of a cover story for buying a plant. But it was only for a week, right? She could take care of one little plant for a week, and then it would be in Arkady’s expert hands.

Right.

---

Three days later, Violet was definitely panicking a little bit.

She still hadn't figured out how to get a plant the equivalent of natural daylight on a spaceship, and the seedling is definitely starting to look a little droopier than before. She watered it the other day - even though it maybe didn't really need watering - so it's definitely not drying out. Of course, there could be any number of other things wrong with it, and Violet wouldn't know, because she had only ever owned plants involuntarily and did not know how to take care of them.

Okay, Vi, don't overthink this, she instructed herself. You're a biologist - you understand living things in principle. They need shelter, they need water and nutrition. And when you're in an environment where you can't get all your nutrients naturally - say, space - you have to find artificial substitutes. After all, it wasn't like humans could get sunlight in space either, but over decades of space travel, they'd found ways to adapt. Vitamin D supplements were a staple on long-haul ships, as were Vitamin D-rich foods, as there was a limit to how much your body would absorb from pure supplements. As a state-of-the-art vessel, the Iris (one, not two) had also been equipped with sun lamps that the crew could sit under for short periods to stimulate their skin's Vitamin D production. But Violet hadn't found anything of the sort on the Iris II. Except-

Violet sat up abruptly on her bed. The Iris II’s medbay was pretty state-of-the-art compared with the Rumor (okay, her medicine cabinet in undergrad had been state-of-the-art compared to the Rumor’s medbay, but still) and she still hadn’t finished exploring all its various fittings, but she distinctly remembered that the lamp over the examination table had an ultraviolet setting.

What was more, Violet didn’t think that she’d have any trouble keeping Arkady away from the medbay for the rest of the week (since she only ever went in there under duress).

Delighted with her revelation, Violet opened the door to her room, intending to go straight to the medbay and test out the lamp – and found Arkady standing on the other side, fist raised to knock.

“Arkady!” Violet exclaimed, quickly re-angling herself so that she was blocking the view of the table with its plant occupant (and thanking every single one of her stars that she hadn’t picked up the seedling to bring with her to the medbay). “Hi!”

“Uh, hi,” said Arkady, smiling a little quizzically. “I was just coming to ask- well, it’s more like the Captain told me to come and ask-”

“Is your leg hurting again?” Violet asked, quickly catching on.

“Not- excessively,” Arkady hedged. “But uh, more than yesterday?”

“I should definitely check it over,” said Violet firmly. “And I can give you more of that Zaletenol to help with the pain for the rest of the afternoon.”

So much for easily being able to keep Arkady out of the medbay – though, at least Arkady had picked now to ask for a checkup and not after Violet had installed the plant somewhere visible. Her leg had been bothering her a lot less recently, or maybe it was just that Arkady had stopped mentioning it. Violet tried to keep a close eye on Arkady as she moved around the ship, watching for any minute signs of pain or discomfort. Unfortunately, Arkady was very good at masking injuries.

“Thanks,” Arkady said, falling into step alongside Violet as they walked towards the medbay. “Also – hi.”

“Hi yourself,” Violet said, smiling at her. Arkady’s cheeks went a little pink.

“Are you sure you didn’t just come by because you missed me?” Violet asked, because she could never resist leaning into the flirting. RJ, whenever they were within earshot of it, called their flirtation “distracting”, but Violet was more than okay with that.

Sure enough, Arkady’s blush darkened. “I… did, actually,” she said. “I was going to come by anyway after my shift ended to see if you wanted to make something in the kitchen together. Jeeter’s promised to leave it alone for the evening.”

Violet, who had been expecting a quip in return, was temporarily lost for words at Arkady’s shy honesty – not to mention the implication that she’d gone to lengths to secure the kitchen so that they could spend some time together. “I – yeah, I’d love that,” she said, knowing she was definitely blushing as well.

Arkady stopped walking, and Violet stopped too, a little puzzled. “What?”

“We’re…” Arkady gestured at the door opposite them. “We’re at the medbay, Liu.”

“-Oh!” Violet couldn’t help snorting with laughter at her own inattentiveness as she hit the door release button. Now who was the one being distracted?

Arkady’s wound was still healing, but showed some signs of swelling that suggested she hadn’t been staying off it like Violet had told her to. “You know what I’m going to say,” Violet told her as she rolled off the biodegradable plastic gloves that she’d been wearing as she gently probed the edges of Arkady’s leg wound, and dropped them into the waste basket.

Arkady rolled her eyes and leaned back on her elbows. “Keep my weight off my leg; I know, I know. It’s just- hard.”

“I get it,” Violet said sympathetically as she dug out a gel pack and squeezed it to activate the cooling crystals. It expanded and inflated slightly as it began to work, which was always equal parts unnerving and satisfying to watch. She handed the pack to Arkady, who laid it against her leg, wincing slightly as it came into contact with her skin. “Sitting around isn’t your style. But the alternative-”

“-Is worse,” Arkady finished for her. “Yeah. I believe you, I guess I just… thought I’d be able to use it again by now.”

“You can use it,” Violet told her. “But go gently. And no running. Not even small amounts.”

Arkady grimaced guiltily, and Violet hid a smile, her hunch proven correct. “I’m going to relay these instructions to the Captain as well, so that she knows what to keep an eye out for,” she said. Arkady huffed indignantly.

“I don’t need monitoring.”

“I didn’t say you did,” Violet said mildly. “But she needs to know how your recovery is progressing so that she can account for it when she gives you jobs to do.” The fact that she didn’t expect Arkady to give Sana this information of her own accord went unsaid. “You need to hold that on your leg for ten minutes,” she added.

As Arkady sat there with the cooling pack held against her thigh, Violet fiddled with the settings on the overhead lamp – making a soft noise of triumph when the lamp switched to an ultraviolet setting.

“Uh-” Arkady said as the two of them were suddenly bathed in an odd black-violet glow, the white floral designs on Violet’s green top shining with unnatural brightness. “Is that the ‘tanning bed’ setting?”

Violet laughed and switched the lamp back to its regular mode. “Sorry, I was just testing – a lot of these more state-of-the-art long-haul ships are equipped with ultraviolet lamps, to counteract Vitamin D deficiency. It can also be a useful treatment for skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis.”

“Huh,” said Arkady, sounding interested. “So, the supplements we take-”

“Don’t account for all of what you need, though if we make landing often enough on planets with a nearby star, you can generally stave off a more serious Vitamin D deficiency,” Violet finished for her.

“Generally?”

“It helps to have one of these on board, just in case,” said Violet. Then, hoping she sounded convincingly casual enough, she added,

“You must have rigged up something similar on the Rumor, right? For the plants in the greenhouse, at least. They’d need some kind of imitation of sunlight in order to grow properly.”

To Violet’s relief, Arkady immediately nodded. “Don’t ask me about the engineering ins and outs of it, but Sana was able to incorporate a couple of ultraviolet bulbs into the greenhouse’s lighting system. Pure ultraviolet light is generally not a good idea, at least long-term – the plants need a balance of ultraviolet and white light to grow properly. So we had a mixture of both.”

Violet nodded in understanding, hoping it didn’t show that she was mentally filing away that detail. “That makes sense,” she said. “I guess I never thought too hard about the practicalities of growing plants in the middle of space.”

“It’s not as hard as it sounds,” Arkady said, and Violet almost laughed. “You just have to have a few key things. Light, water, drainage, enough nutrients in the soil… Well, okay, some types of plants are more picky, but the ones we grew on the Rumor were pretty hard to kill.”

Violet snorted a little, figuring it was safe enough to offer up this one detail. “In my experience, no plant is too hard for me to kill. I’m… not particularly good at taking care of them.”

Arkady laughed, and Violet eyed her, a little bit offended. “Sorry, it’s just – you’re a biologist. But you can’t keep a houseplant alive?”

Violet smiled ruefully. “Sad but true. I guess I’d better stick to taking care of people.”

“You, uh…” Arkady looked down at the cooling pack on her leg, gently pressing down on its edges. “You’re pretty good at that one. I mean, not pretty good- well, you are, but- very. You’re very good at it.” The cooling pack was really getting flattened now. Violet smiled, and reached out to gently touch Arkady’s hand and still it.

“Thanks,” she said simply, but tried to show in her expression everything she was feeling. “Shall we go make dinner? You can take the cooling pack off now.”

---

There was still something wrong with the plant.

After managing to persuade Arkady to divulge the secrets of plant care in outer space, Violet had snuck her gift into the medbay for a few hours each day under the guise of ‘inventorying the supplies’, and sat it under the ultraviolet lamp. The rest of the time, the plant lived in her room under a regular white light.

The system had seemed to work at first - the plant visibly perked up, and Violet was now thoroughly familiar with the range of equipment and supplies in the new medbay, which was a big bonus. But now that Violet was studying the plant under the ultraviolet light again, the evening before she was due to give the plant to Arkady, she could tell something was wrong. The plant’s leaves – which had become bigger and more numerous in the short time she’d been taking care of it – were drooping more than they had been, and some of them looked yellow. Frustrated, Violet mentally ran through what Arkady had mentioned you needed to grow plants. Water; she’d watered it twice. The man at the stall had said to water the plant “regularly”, but how often was that? The soil didn’t seem dried out, at least. She’d been giving it light, and as for nutrients in the soil, well, Violet had no idea how to check for that. But it wasn't like she could do anything about the soil if it was no good; they didn't exactly have fertiliser stocked on the ship. Squinting at the plant more closely, Violet was more convinced that something was off. There were these little... bumps on the stem and the underside of the plant's leaves. Bumps that were...

...moving. Violet reared back, clapping a hand over her mouth. Insects. Her – Arkady's – plant had an insect infestation. What was she going to do?? Mentally, she cursed the stallholder for selling her a bug-infested plant. But she realised that was uncharitable. Insects were a part of nature; you couldn't avoid that. He probably hadn't known about the bugs, and it wasn't as if she'd been checking for them anyway. But she couldn't give the plant to Arkady now. What kind of a present would that be? “Happy birthday; here's a sickly, bug-infested plant. Good luck!” She hated the idea of just throwing it out, though – of having to admit failure (again) after she'd tried so hard do things right this time. And she wouldn't have a present for Arkady's birthday. Obviously plant owners dealt with insects all the time, but Violet couldn't ask Arkady about what to do without arousing suspicion and ruining the surprise. Still, which was worse - giving the game away, or letting things get worse because she had no idea how to treat an insect infestation? That was when Violet had an idea. Banking on the fact that no-one was likely to enter the medbay without her there, Violet left Arkady's plant under the UV lamp and closed the door behind her. Looking up and down the corridor, she picked a direction and speed-walked, blowing past a confused RJ, who said, “Uh-” and almost bumping into Brian. “Hey, dude, everything all right?” “Have you seen the Captain?” Violet asked him. “Think she's up in the cockpit,” he replied. “Great, thank you,” said Violet, relieved. If Sana was up in the cockpit, that meant she was with Krejjh, which was... better than her being with Arkady. Not by a lot, because Krejjh was not renowned for their subtlety, but Violet would take what she could get. Coming to a halt in front of the cockpit door, Violet had just realised that she had yet to memorise the entry code for the new ship when the door opened. “Violet!” said Sana in surprise. “Are you okay, is something wrong?” “Not exactly,” Violet admitted as Krejjh, seated at the controls, craned their head around in interest. “I uh, needed your help with something.”

Sana’s expression immediately turned interested. “Okay. Do you wanna talk in here, or...” “Uh, just somewhere-” Violet didn’t want to hurt Krejjh’s feelings by saying ‘somewhere private’, but privacy would be ideal. “-else? It’s about...” Sana’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh! Don’t worry, Arkady’s busy with something in the engine room at the moment.” Krejjh fully twisted their body around. “Are you avoiding First Mate Patel?” they demanded with glee. Violet cringed slightly, wishing the Captain could have been a bit more discreet. “Not... permanently, just at the moment.” “We’ll fill you in later, Krejjh,” Sana promised. “Shall we talk in the kitchen, Violet?” Violet nodded, and the two of them made their way through the still jarringly shiny and unfamiliar corridors of the Iris II until they reached the kitchen. Once inside, Sana said, “So, what can I help you with?” “Uh, so this is going to sound like a weird question,” Violet hedged. “But... when you guys were growing food and plants on Cresswin, what did you use for pesticides?” Sana blinked twice and then frowned a little. “Gotta say, I wasn’t really involved in any of the growing – I’m not very good with plants,” she admitted, and Violet almost burst out laughing at the irony. “That’s more Arkady’s domain. But I do happen to know what Campbell uses on his tomato plants, and I think he mixes...” She turned to the cupboards and began pulling out bottles: vegetable oil, baking soda, dish soap. “Depending on how much you need, you want to use twice as much oil as baking soda, and just a little bit of the dish soap,” Sana explained. “And then you want to dilute it with a couple of quarts of water. You can put it in...” She produced an empty spray bottle from yet another cupboard. “This! I was going to make a cleaning spray, but your need is greater.” “Oh God, thank you so much,” Violet said, picking up the bottles. “Did Campbell really tell you all the quantities?” She tried to think when this might have come up over moonshine. Sana smiled, one of her dimples showing. “I helped him make it once. He was having a bit of a crisis.” Violet laughed. “So, a plant, huh?” Sana asked her, her expression knowing. Violet’s shoulders sagged slightly. “I’m not very good with them either,” she said. Sana smiled at her. “Luckily for both of us, Arkady is. And she will love it,” she said, and headed for the door. “Bugs and all.” Violet put one hand over her face and groaned, but she was laughing. She unscrewed the top of the spray bottle and got to work.

---

De-contaminating the plant was harder work than Violet had bargained for. Violet supposed that most people treating their plants with bug spray weren’t so concerned with appearances, but she really wanted it to look good for Arkady. (And dead bugs were not a good gift). So after spritzing the plant carefully but thoroughly with her homemade spray and then leaving it for a couple of hours to take effect, she used a cotton swab to dust the tiny stalks and leaves and carefully remove any traces of the bugs and the spray.

By the time she was done, it was well after midnight. Violet stretched her arms over her head and breathed a sigh of relief. The plant looked okay. Not in peak health, but okay, and maybe by the morning it would have perked up fully.

Even after midnight, there was always someone awake on the ship, but that someone was usually Krejjh, Sana or Park in the cockpit, which was why Violet deemed it safe to carry the plant with her from the medbay back to her room.

She realised that had been a mistake when, after taking just a few steps away from the medbay, she rounded the corner and came face-to-face with Arkady.

“Liu!” said Arkady, her expression lighting up in a way that Violet was slowly coming to realise might actually be just for her. It quickly gave way to confusion as Arkady spotted the plant. “Oh hey, that’s – cool, where did you…? I didn’t realise you had a plant.”

Violet briefly tried to think of a way to explain away the plant, before realising it would just create more confusion and giving in to the inevitable. At least it was after midnight.

“Um, I’ve been keeping it secret because it’s… for you,” she said, proffering the plant. “I was actually planning to present it in a much nicer way, maybe with a ribbon around it? Which is my fault for carrying it openly around the ship, but I thought you’d be asleep, and you’re not and now you’ve seen me, so uh… Happy birthday!”

A dumbfounded silence greeted her words. Violet waited, breath coming quicker as she nervously started to second-guess herself. Oh god, she hates it! The leaves look really yellow under this light, I didn’t realise – or did Captain Tripathi get the date wrong? Maybe it’s not her birthday after all? “I-if you don’t like it, though, I can just-”

“No!” Arkady said, her arms shooting out to take the plant quickly. “I mean yes! It’s great! I was just trying to think when you – when did you buy this? We haven’t made any stops for a week.”

Violet nodded, feeling giddy with relief. “I bought it at a market on Rodinia,” she said. “I’ve been hiding it in the medbay pretty much since then.”

“The ultraviolet light,” Arkady said with dawning realisation. “But you – hate taking care of plants. Right? Or did you just say that to throw me off?”

“No, that was true,” Violet said ruefully. “It’s a miracle this one is still alive.”

Arkady stared down at the plant with a complicated expression, but fortunately Violet was familiar enough with Arkady’s ‘I’m-coming-to-terms-with-someone-doing-a-nice-thing-for-me’ expression not to panic this time. “It’s a bonsai tree,” she said gently, to fill the silence as Arkady processed. “Well, one of several varieties – I know bonsai is actually about how you take care of the tree, and not the variety. This one’s a Japanese maple. Captain Tripathi said you liked trees, and I thought… you can keep this one in your room and grow it yourself.”

“You got me a tree,” Arkady said softly, and Violet could detect a tiny tremor in her voice. “My own… tree.”

“I hope it wasn’t too much, I-”

“No,” Arkady interrupted her quickly. “No, Liu, it’s… perfect. Really.”

Violet knew she was blushing, and smiling so widely it was almost painful, but she couldn’t care too much about either of those things – even though they were still standing in the middle of the corridor. “Happy birthday,” she said again. “I’m really glad you like it.”

Arkady looked up at her, holding the plant pot close to her chest, almost cradling it. “How did you know it was my birthday, anyway?”

“The Captain told me,” Violet admitted. “I hope that’s okay. She said you don’t really like… fuss around your birthday, and we don’t have to do anything else for it or even mention it at all if you don’t want to, but – I think she wanted you to have something nice. And so did I.”

Arkady’s face did something complicated again, her mouth twisting into a half-smile. “She’s too perceptive for her own good,” she grumbled. “She’s cooking dinner for me, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Violet confirmed.

Arkady sighed, but it was the sigh of someone who was secretly pleased and trying to hide it. “Just so long as there’s no singing.” She lifted the plant slightly. “I’m gonna go put this in my room. Want to… come with? You can tell me all about how to take care of it.”

Violet snorted, bumping her shoulder lightly with Arkady’s as they walked towards Arkady’s room. “I can tell you about all the ways I nearly killed it before your birthday.”

“That works, too.”

[leggyorlandomiddleearth]

Marry Me (Legolas)

Warnings: Mentions of death and is depressing so if you don't wanna cry, SKIP THIS-

Requested by habbits_of_hobbits on Wattpad.

Alethia (I'M SORRY BUT I LOVE THAT NAME SO MUCH) is Legolas' best friend. I don't wanna say anything else.

Italic words mean they're speaking in ELVISH. I was too lazy to search up the elvish words so-

TOO BAD-

Also it's not EXACTLY what you asked but I couldn't resist XD

ONE-SHOT BECAUSE I SERIOUSLY COULDN'T DO ANYTHING ELSE-

__________________________________________________________

Legolas'(s?) P.O.V.

"Lathia, you and your group will search this half of the village and the rest come with me," I ordered.

My heart was pounding. I hope she was okay. Her house was burned and I didn't see her anywhere. We had gathered as many villagers as we could from the burning village. Orcs had come to this village and killed many people. We had gotten there 10 minutes after they attacked.

Most of the village was on fire, and only 3/4 of the villagers remained. My heart hurt as I saw families hug their loved ones, not breathing, but separated. Sent to another world. Most of the dead were parents. What would happen to all these kids who had lost their parents, I did not want to know. I just hoped they would find comfort.

"Let's go!" I commanded. I urged my horse forward. We split up to search our own sides.

"Find anyone who is still alive and needs help. Get them to the makeshift medical station immediatly." I say. I urge my horse to gallop towards her house. Everything was burnt except for the safe I had given her for her begetting day. (Birthday)

I jump off my horse and go to the safe. Entering the password, I open it. There were many things in there, including the wolf I had whittled her. I smile at that memory.

(This is a memory now)

"SURPRISE!" I yell while jumping out of my hiding place and hugging her.

She squeals. "Legolas! Don't scare me like that again! I might have thrown this whittling knife at you!"

I look at the deformed block of whittling wood in her hand as I let go of her. "What is that?" I ask, making fun of the block of wood.

She huffs out a breath. "It's supposed to be a wolf. Ada had taught me how to whittle when I was three. I'm TRYING to remember..." she says, sadly. Her father had died in a war to protect Mirkwood.

"Hmmm... Maybe I can do that for you!" I say.

Her eyes widen. "Really?! You'd whittle a wolf for me?!" she asks excitedly.

I grin. "Of course! After all, today's your birthday, silly!" I laugh.

The afternoon was spent whittling the wolf I gave to her for her birthday. She loved it.

(Memory ends)

I also saw the little tools she used to pick locks and the tiny whittled creatures her father had given her. But I saw something new. I picked up a letter.

Legolas,

I promised that I wouldn't get sad that I left Mirkwood, but I couldn't help it. You're my best friend and I couldn't bear not seeing you. If you can, meet me in the gardens.

XOXO,

Your best friend <3

That's where she must be.

I jump onto my horse and gallop towards the gardens. There's a piece of paper hanging from a string attatched to the tree. I get off my horse and turn the paper around to look at what's written.

Doing great Leggy! Keep walking forward!

I smile at the mention of my nickname. Walking forward, I see lights hung up and another piece of paper.

I love your smile! Keep smiling for me!

I laugh. Of course she'd say that.

Walking forward, there's another paper.

ALMOST there!

I walk, then decide to run excitedly. I see lights! Not JUST lights, but candle lights! A scent fills my nose. There's peppermint, which is how Alethia smells like, and...

No. It can't be. Orc blood-mixed with...

Elven blood.

I dash into the clearing as fast as I can. I slow down as I see corpse upon corpse of orcs layed about the path, each having a slice at their throat, the signature mark of her dagger.

Then, I see her. She looked beautiful. Her blue hair was in an updo and she was wearing a green flowy dress. The only thing that wasn't perfect was the sword sticking out of her stomach.

"ALETHIA!" I cry out, rushing to her and falling to my knees. I cradle her head in my lap.

"Legolas," she whimpers, looking up at me. I lay her head back down.

"Shh, don't move, Alethia." I say, trying to soothe her, and in the process, myself.

"Legolas, I'm not going to make it," she gasps out.

"No, you will, I'll make sure of it."

"Legolas, look at me," she says, cupping my face to look at hers.

"I brought you here so I could tell you something," she says, looking at me for permission to continue. I nod.

"Legolas, do you know how crazy you are? With your flawless hair and charming smile?" she asks. I smile.

"You were always there for me, pulling me up when I needed it the most. I thank you for that. And I'm sorry I didn't have the time to tell you that I-I-I love you," she says, shaking due to coughing fits.

"I love you, Legolas. I love your good, your bad, and everything in between. I love your kindness, your happiness, and how much you care about EVERYTHING and EVERYONE. I love how stubborn you are and how you will stand up for what you believe in, no matter what. So, I have one last question," she pauses to grab a box.

She opens the box and tears fall out of my eyes. "Will you be mine?"

Inside is a ring with a golden band and a greenleaf on top of it. "Yes," I say.

She smiles and leans in to kiss me. I kiss her, but I don't feel her kiss back. I pull back in confusion. Her hand was limp but her eyes were closed and she had the beautiful smile on her face.

"Alethia," I whisper.

"Alethia," I say more urgently.

I check for her pulse...

None. There's none. I... lost her...

I let out a cry. "Alethia! Please, love! Come back to me! I NEED YOU! I love you!" I scream desperately.

I grasp her hand and kiss it many times. "I love you, PLEASE come back," I repeat it over and over again and again.

Hours pass and my voice is hoarse, but the tears haven't stopped.

King Thranduil rushes into the clearing. "Legolas," he breathes out, looking at the scene.

He kneels down and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"I loved her," I whisper. "But they took her."

Thranduil smiles sadly. I take the box and slip on the ring. It fits perfectly. I lift her limp body and carry it to where we would bury her.

Ever since we buried her, I would bring her strawberries, her favorite food. I would sit there and talk to her, hoping that she would come back to me.

I missed her. I loved her. She was my everything. My Alethia was taken from me... and it was unforgivable.

____________________________________________

Y'ALL HAVE NO IDEA HOW MANY TIMES I CRIED WHILE WRITING THIS-

OK I'M SORRY BUT NOW HERE ARE SOME GIFTS-

IDK IF ALREADY DID THAT

AAAAAAAAAND GOOD BYE

[panharmonium]

the edge of seventeen [fic]

summary: Daegal forgets his own birthday.  Merlin has a conniption.  Daegal has a crisis.

context for newcomers: This is the next installment in an ongoing AU that @once-and-future-gay​ and I have been playing around with, wherein both Will and Daegal survived into Season 5.  The background for that AU can be found here, and the associated fics (plus one art post) are at the following links: be good / persistence / tournaments / daegal post-carpentry (art).

a/n: @once-and-future-gay​​, this was actually written for your birthday XD  I started it that Tuesday intending for it to be a very short snippet that I could post the same day, but I quickly realized that it was turning into a bigger piece, and now, a week and a half later, it’s a 10k story.  I apologize for how belated it is, but I hope you'll accept it as a birthday gift anyhow - I figured that if it were up to me, I’d rather have ‘more fic’ than ‘on-time fic,’ so - happy (belated) birthday to you, and here’s some more of this AU for you, featuring Daegal and a wide supporting cast! ✨

“Are you trying to slice that thing or just beat it to death?”

Will stared incredulously down the table at Daegal, who continued to hack at the seedpod held between his fingers even though his aggravated chopping did little more than squash the unyielding capsule down into the wood of the table.  “It’s my knife,” Daegal muttered, stabbing at his botanical nemesis.  “It’s dull.” 

“So sharpen it.”  

“I did,” Daegal replied.  “It’s old.  It doesn’t hold an edge.”

Will beckoned for the knife.  Daegal scooted it down the table to him like an innkeeper sliding drinks down the length of the bar, even in defiance of Merlin’s exasperated, “Don’t - !”  But Will caught the knife easily, handle-first, and gave it a disapproving once-over.

“Use mine,” he said, and slid one of his own blades down the table.

“Don’t - !” Merlin bit out again, then sighed and returned to the text he was copying after Daegal intercepted the blade without injury.

“Careful,” Will warned Daegal.  “It’s - ”

Pop.  Daegal startled out of his seat at the first enthusiastic slice of the knife, as the capsule burst and sent hundreds of tiny black seeds scattering in every direction, the dried granules rolling off the edge of the table and pouring onto the floor with a rain-like hiss.

Merlin sighed and rubbed his forehead.  Will picked up his own half-finished carving again and gestured at Merlin’s face.  “You’ve got a bit of ink on you, you know.”

Merlin shot him a flat look.  “Have I?”

“Yeah.  Just over your nose there.”

“Maybe it’s because you keep doing things that make me want to pull my hair out.”

Will gave Daegal a knowing grin across the table.  Daegal, doing his best to contain the spilled seeds, couldn’t help feeling pleased, even if the smile he offered to Will in return was slightly sheepish.  

“Do I?” Will asked Merlin, utterly unconcerned.  “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Stop giving him knives!” Merlin burst out, gesturing broadly at Daegal’s end of the table.

“He’s fine!” Will said.  “He’s a big lad.”

“And he’s making a big mess.”

“I’ll clean it up,” Daegal assured Merlin, scooping the runaway seeds into uncooperative piles.  “I didn’t think it would cut so well, is all.”

“You need better tools,” Will declared.  “Merlin, the man works for you.  Why haven’t you got him outfitted properly?”

Merlin opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by a rap at the door.  “It’s open,” he called, frowning.  It was a bit late for visitors.

The door swung open, revealing Gwaine, who took only a single step into the physician’s chambers before pausing at the loud crunching sound under his boot.  “Hallo,” he said curiously, lifting up his foot.  “What’s all this, then?”  

“Seeds,” Daegal supplied helpfully, at the same time as Merlin grumbled, “Never mind.  Don’t come in; you’ll track it all over.”

Gwaine obliged, bowing at the waist in deference to Merlin’s directive.  “Don’t mind me,” he said.  “I only came by to see if you lot fancied an excursion.”

“What sort?”

“The lads and I are off to see the sunrise.  Thought you might like to join us.”

It was only after a moment’s confusion that Daegal realized Gwaine was talking about the tavern, in some sort of post-curfew, plausible deniability-laden way.  Daegal wiped seeds from his palms and looked hopefully between Will and Merlin, not daring to believe that they would say yes.  It wasn’t often Gwaine heard the word “no” from someone he’d propositioned, Daegal was willing to bet, but Daegal knew trying to drag Will and Merlin out of their nest two whole bells after curfew, especially when the weather had frosted all the windows, was an extremely optimistic maneuver, even for Gwaine.

Will, predictably, snorted, not even bothering to pretend he was interested.  Merlin did a better job of feigning regret, holding up the heavy text he was copying as if it explained everything.  “Can’t,” he said simply.  “Sorry.  Too much work.  Too late.  Too tired.  Too cold.”

“Any other excuses?” Gwaine asked, the corners of his mouth twitching up.  

“Pick whichever one you like best,” Merlin said, returning to scratch away at his manuscript.  “I’m comfy in here.”

Gwaine gestured amicably at Daegal.  “How about you, lad?”

Daegal’s eyes widened.  Merlin always made tavern nights with Gwaine sound legendary, and the fact that Will groaned every time they came up in conversation made them even more intriguing, but Will, in a surprisingly swift intervention, interrupted before Daegal could even open his mouth.  

“Not a chance,” he said, when Daegal tentatively started to rise from his chair.  “Sit down.”

Gwaine did not seem offended, but simply leaned against the doorframe and grinned in that careless way of his.  “Can’t the lad have a bit of fun?”

“Not with that lot.  Not at this hour.”

“I’ll look after him.”

“You?  By the time you’re done drinking you won’t know him from Bruta.”

Gwaine shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”  He pointed at Daegal.  “Invitation stands, lad.  Another time, maybe.”  

Daegal nodded wistfully, and Gwaine bade them farewell, departing.  Will, shaking his head, returned to his whittling, muttering, “Not ruddy likely.”  He brushed wood shavings off his knees, adding to the mess on the floor.  “Lunatic.”

“He’s a good lunatic,” Merlin said, absorbed in his copying.

“If you say so.”

“I could still go, maybe,” Daegal said.  “I could look after myself.”

Will raised his eyebrows.  “At the Rising Sun?  After curfew?  You’d wake up with your head in a snowbank.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Yes, you would,” Will said, not budging. “Don’t go courting trouble.  You’re too young for that crowd.”

Daegal scrunched up his nose.  He knew that in a contest of stubbornness, Will would win by a mile, but still - “I’m not too young.  I’m seventeen.”

Merlin’s head snapped up from his book, his copying abruptly forgotten.  “You’re sixteen.”

“No,” Daegal said, bewildered by Merlin’s sudden bizarre intensity.  “Seventeen.”

“Since when?”

“I had my birthday last month.”

“You what?”

Daegal, confused, looked between Merlin and Will, the latter of whom sighed.  “Oh, lor.”

“What?” Daegal asked.  “Have I - is that bad?”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Merlin demanded, ignoring Daegal’s question.

“I don’t know,” Daegal replied, taken aback.  He hadn’t even thought of it at the time.  What was there to think about?  It was just another day.  Sometimes he didn’t even remember his birthday had happened until it was already over.  Once he hadn’t remembered until the last week in January, when he’d taken a courier job and been forced to lie about his age.

Merlin looked incensed.  Will, by contrast, looked like he was trying not to laugh.  “Right, then,” he said, getting up and tucking his carving into his pocket.  “I’m off.  You two have fun.”

Daegal had an absurd urge to beg Will to sit back down, because Merlin was starting to get a frankly loony look on his face and Daegal did not understand what was the matter.  But Will just patted Daegal on the top of the head on his way out - tap tap - and let the door swing closed behind him.  

Merlin, his hands on his hips, assessed Daegal with narrowed eyes.  

“I’m sorry?” Daegal ventured, unsure what he was apologizing for.

Merlin pressed his lips together.  “You and him,” he said, pointing to the door where Will had just exited, “you’re two of a kind, you know that?”

Daegal did not know.  He had no idea what Merlin was talking about, in fact, and he was afraid to ask.  He did not exactly want to apologize again, though, because that felt sort of like apologizing for being like Will (although why Merlin seemed to think this was the case was a mystery).

“Right,” Merlin said after a moment.  “Not to worry.  I’ll take care of it.”

Daegal hesitated.  “Take care of what?”

Merlin sighed and shook his head, but did not answer.  Daegal decided that perhaps it would be best if he did not needle Merlin with further questions right now.  His mentor was acting very strange, and Daegal could not possibly imagine what had gotten him so worked up. 

He would just have to ask Will about it later.

As it turned out, Daegal did not have a chance to ask Will about it later.

The next day, Will did not come by.  The day after that, Merlin sent Daegal out to collect more dried seedpods to replace the ones Daegal had mangled, which took all afternoon and was exhausting enough for Daegal to go straight to his little chamber in the servants’ wing and flop into bed after supper.

The morning after that, he woke to find a smiling Elyan hovering barely two inches above his face.  

Daegal stifled a gasp and only just barely stopped himself from whacking Elyan across the nose.  He scrambled upright in the bed, his back pressed against the wall.  “El - Sir Elyan!  What - ”

“Good morning,” Elyan said, as if he could not possibly have been happier to have gotten almost-smacked in the face.  “Merlin sent me down.  Said it’s your birthday.”

Daegal goggled at him.  “My what?”

“Your birthday,” Elyan repeated.  “Isn’t it?”

Daegal shook his head, certain that he was still asleep.  “No.”

“Merlin said you might say that.”  Elyan whipped the covers off Daegal’s legs.  “Up you get.  It’s time for breakfast.”

Daegal shivered violently, his sleep clothes providing little protection against the cold.  “I don’t normally - I’m supposed to go and help Gaius - ”

“Not today.  You’ve been given the day off.”

Daegal stared.  “What for?”

Elyan chuckled.  “Still asleep in there, I see,” he remarked, tossing Daegal a shirt.  “It’s your birthday.  Haven’t I just said that?”

“It’s not, though,” Daegal said, feeling as if he were speaking a different language.   “My birthday’s in November.”

“Not this year, it isn’t.”  Elyan grinned.  “Get dressed.  We’ve got all sorts of things do today.”

When Elyan had said ‘all sorts of things,’ Daegal had not expected one of those things to be a full breakfast served in the King and Queen’s personal chambers, catered by the King and Queen’s personal serving staff, and attended by the King and Queen themselves.

“I didn’t know,” Daegal whispered frantically to Merlin, as Elyan ushered him inside the room.  “Why wouldn’t you tell me?  I would have worn something else!”

“You don’t have anything else,” Merlin shot back under his breath.  “Relax.  Arthur put his undershirt on back to front this morning; he’s hardly Sir Stylish.”

Daegal gave Merlin a panicked, pleading stare, but Merlin just plunked Daegal down in a seat and left to pour the drinks.

“We’ve been meaning to do this for ages,” the Queen told him, sitting down next to Elyan.  “Merlin keeps you very busy, doesn’t he?”

Daegal’s mouth was too dry to formulate any sort of reply.  Only a few short months ago this very same woman had been standing at Morgana’s elbow, plotting Arthur’s assassination, and at the time, Daegal had not even realized there was anything wrong with her.  There was, after all, nothing hard to believe about a servant-turned-queen who’d gotten a taste for power and decided to keep climbing the ladder, and while Merlin had always been very adamant that Daegal would never have believed this of Gwen if he had ever met her previously, it was hard for Daegal to look at her and not remember how she had willingly embraced the woman who later tried to murder Merlin and threatened to do the same to Daegal, if he didn’t keep his mouth shut.

Merlin, busy setting out the ewery on a sidetable, heard Gwen’s comment and spared Daegal the necessity of replying.  “Arthur keeps me very busy,” he said, directing a pointed look at the king.  “If you’d like me to arrange your subjects’ social schedules on top of my other duties, Sire, perhaps you ought to hire someone else to look after your washing.”

Arthur waved a hand.  “Guinevere likes that funny thing you do with my socks.”

“Guinevere,” corrected the Queen , “thinks her husband is perfectly capable of rolling his own socks, thank you.”  She smiled encouragingly at Daegal.  “But enough about the laundry.  We’d been meaning to have you round for a meal, to say thank you, and Merlin mentioned that it was your birthday, so we thought now would be the perfect time.”

Daegal barely even heard the bit about his birthday, instead fixated on what had come just before it.  Thank him?  What for?  He had nearly gotten the king killed.  

“Merlin tells us you’ve been helping Gaius?” Arthur prompted.  

Daegal nodded. 

“He’s a fine physician.  If you’re pursuing a path in the healing arts, you couldn’t ask for a better teacher.”

“Is that something you’re interested in?” Guinevere asked, warm interest written across her face.

Daegal’s eyes darted helplessly to Merlin, who nodded encouragingly.  Daegal cleared his throat.  “Er - I think so.  Maybe.  Merlin says I’m picking it up quickly.”

“Well, you’ve already saved one life,” Arthur said with a grin, gesturing at himself, “so if that’s any indication of your capabilities, I expect you’ll do well.”  He offered Daegal a platter of pastries.  “Tell us about your studies.”

The meal continued on in much the same fashion, with Gwen and Arthur asking Daegal questions and Elyan occasionally putting in a comment or two of his own.  Daegal did his best to answer honestly, even as he was plied with heaps of food, most of which was comprised of dishes he had never had the chance to try before and all of which flavors he was certain he would never be able to remember later, given how worked up he was.  Arthur was gracious and charming throughout, very unlike the man who often featured in Merlin’s grumbling suppertime complaints.  Elyan talked to Merlin as much as he did to either of the royal guests, which was probably a breach of some kind of protocol, though nobody seemed to mind.  And the Queen - the Queen looked exactly the same as she had when Daegal had first met her, minus the cloak and surreptitious glances, and if he hadn’t known better, he would have thought nothing had changed.  

Except - 

There came one moment, towards the end of the meal, when Merlin put a goblet down in front of Gwen with a playful and very exaggerated “Your Majesty,” and Gwen jabbed his knee with a fork under the table where Arthur couldn’t see, all the while both of them keeping their eyes locked on each other as if daring the other one to laugh first, and it was then that Daegal knew with absolute certainty that this was not the same woman he had met that night in the woods.  

“I hope you’ll accept this token of the Crown’s appreciation,” Arthur said to Daegal later, when they had finally finished their meal and risen from their chairs.  “You’ve done this kingdom a tremendous service, and I’m indebted to you.”  He passed Daegal a very official-looking bit of folded parchment stamped with the royal seal, which Daegal knew it would not be appropriate to open now.  He took it and bowed the way Merlin had shown him.

“And there’s something from me, too,” said Guinevere.  “Only it would have been a bit difficult to get it up the steps - Elyan will take you to see it instead.  I think you’ll find it useful, given that you’re apprenticing to our physicians.”

Daegal could not possibly imagine what on earth could have been so unwieldy that she could not get it up the stairs, but he bowed to her as well.  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” she said, in a more solemn voice.  “For helping, when I couldn’t help myself.”

Daegal straightened, hesitant.  Her eyes - it seemed ludicrous to Daegal, now, that he had not recognized the enchanted version of her for what it was.  That hollow shell had had no soul.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” he blurted out.  “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” Arthur said, wrapping a steady arm around his wife’s shoulders.  “For both of us.  We owe you a great deal.”

Daegal bowed to both of them again, and Elyan escorted him to the door.  “Oh, and Daegal?” Gwen added.  

Daegal stumbled over his own feet trying to turn around.  “Your Majesty?”

She smiled at him.  “Happy birthday.”

“What did Arthur give you, then?” Elyan asked, once they were out in the street.

Daegal fingered the mystery envelope.  He did not know, and honestly, his head was spinning too much for him to even think about puzzling out a jumble of words right now, especially when he was only just learning his letters to begin with.

“Can I have a look?” Elyan asked, and Daegal willingly handed him the parchment.  Elyan slipped a finger under the seal and unfolded the document, parsing it with a speed Daegal had pretty much despaired of ever achieving for himself.

“Mm,” Elyan said.  “Thought so.  Typical kingly stuff.”

“What is it?” 

“Land grant,” Elyan said, handing back the parchment, and then, as if this were nothing to worry about, he turned and ambled into the stables.

Daegal stared after him.  “What?”   

“Land grant,” Elyan repeated.  “You know, like a knight’s fee.  For services rendered to the Crown.”  He wandered deeper down the central aisle of the stable, stalled horses on either side of him lifting their heads.  “Come on.  It’s through here.”

Stunned, Daegal followed him, his fingers clutching at the incomprehensible slip of parchment.  “I can’t own land,” he protested.  “I don’t own a second pair of shoes.”

“You do now.  Or you can afford to, at least.”  Elyan glanced back at Daegal.  “Don’t worry, it’s a small plot.  Just a little square out in the Sprawl.”

Outside the city walls, then.  “I don’t - what am I supposed to do with it?”

“You could live there.”

“But - ”  Daegal stared at Elyan’s back uncomprehendingly.  “I live in the Citadel.”

“Rent it?”

Daegal’s head was going to explode.  “Will says landlords are leeches,” he said faintly.

Elyan laughed.  “Herb garden?” he suggested.  “Merlin’s always sending you off to gods know where, searching for things you could grow yourself.”

Daegal hardly knew what to say to that, but Elyan stopped walking before Daegal could think of anything coherent.  “Here we are,” Elyan announced, clapping a hand down on top of a stall door to his left.  

A wave of misgiving flooded Daegal, temporarily wiping away the lingering shock of the land grant.  “Are we riding somewhere?”  

He had not considered this, and he did not want to admit that the only way he was going to be able to ride anywhere at all was on the back of someone else’s saddle.  He had never had access to a horse himself, and had only had the opportunity to ride twice in the past - the first occasion had been extremely brief, and the second had ended in him being thrown, so he was not quite sure that it counted.

“Not today,” Elyan said.  “Unless you count the training ring.”

“Sorry?”

“Merlin says you don’t know how to ride.”

“Yeah,” Daegal said.  He could feel himself turning red.  “I mean - no, I don’t know how.  Not well.  I don’t need to.  I don’t have a horse.”

“Didn’t have a horse,” Elyan said, as if making a correction.

“What?”

Elyan gestured at the stall they were standing next to.  “Couldn’t get her up the stairs.”

Daegal’s mouth popped open.  The creature Elyan was pointing to was a dark bay with an irregular, splotchy white blaze down her muzzle, her smooth coat appearing nearly black in the dim light of the stables.  She was stout and smoothly muscled, watching them with a calm, composed energy, and even as Daegal stared, she stretched her neck over the stall door and sniffed at Elyan’s hands, perhaps searching for any remnants of his recent breakfast.

“My sister,” Elyan said proudly, scratching the horse’s cheek, “is aces at presents.”

“She’s not for me,” Daegal croaked disbelievingly.

“Of course she is,” Elyan assured him.  “She’s the same stock as Merlin’s.  Steady temperament, friendly, not likely to spook.  Not like Arthur’s beasts.”

A horse, Daegal thought numbly.  A horse. 

“I can’t take this,” he mumbled.  “It’s too much.”

“Of course it’s not too much.  You saved the king’s life.”

I almost killed him! Daegal wanted to shout, but Elyan would not understand.  

“And you’ll need transportation, anyhow,” Elyan continued.  “You can’t be jogging along behind Merlin on foot.  Apprentices in the royal household have mounts, or they can’t do their work.”

Daegal bit the inside of his cheek.  “I don’t even know how to ride her.”

The horse cocked her ears in Daegal’s direction and swung her blocky head around to inspect him, her dark brown eyes sedate and trusting.  “What do you think we’re here to practice?” Elyan asked cheerfully, retrieving a halter and lead rope from a hook on the wall.  “Go on, say hello to her.”

Daegal’s hand came up of its own accord, hovering in the air below his new mount’s nose.  She lipped at his fingers curiously.  “Hello,” Daegal breathed.

He didn’t deserve her.  He knew he didn’t.  

But he was falling in love with her anyway.

It was a very windswept and breathless Daegal who climbed off his horse later that day and ran to greet Merlin at the fence.  

Evening was coming on, and the temperature had sunk as quickly as the sun, but Daegal did not even notice the stiffness in his fingers or the tightness in his cheeks.  He was too carried away with the elation of riding, and the dizzying knowledge that he now had the means to go anywhere he wanted, anytime, without begging for rides in the back of strangers’ wagons.  Months ago he would have killed for this kind of ability to roam.  

It was strange, now that he finally had the freedom to run away whenever he pleased, that he no longer felt he had anything to run away from.

“Having fun?” Merlin asked, elbows resting on the fence.

Daegal did not think fun was the right word.  There was just no good way to explain that he felt like a menagerie bear whose shackles had slipped, or a noblewoman’s bird escaping out a cracked window.  “It’s brilliant,” he said, settling for a completely inadequate adjective.  “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“And he’s good at it!” Elyan put in, walking Daegal’s horse over to the gate.  “We’ve only been out here one day and he’s got her cantering already - I think this beast is talking to him.”

If Daegal’s cheeks had not been whipped rosy by the wind already, they were certainly turning pink now.  “No,” he said to Merlin, “not - talking to me.  Obviously not.  Just - I sort of feel like I understand her, is all.”

Merlin did not seem to think this was strange at all, and produced a chunk of some sort of winter root vegetable from his coat, offering it to the horse.  She snapped it up eagerly.  “Animals talk,” Merlin said, shrugging.  “It’s people as don’t know how to listen that get kicked in the nethers.”  

He untied the gate for Elyan, who led the horse through it and started up the path back to the stables proper.  “How was your day?” Merlin asked Daegal, as the three of them walked, Elyan leading the horse on one side, and Merlin and Daegal on the other.

Daegal had to think before answering.  It had been, by a wide margin, the strangest day he had ever experienced in Camelot, starting with Elyan’s surprise appearance that morning and punctuated by a number of other unexpected visitors.  Leon had arrived in the stables not long after Elyan and Daegal, bringing with him a collection of exquisitely embroidered tack (“Part of Her Majesty’s gift,” he’d explained), and then he’d spent the next hour walking Daegal through the various bits and pieces, guiding him through the process of putting them on his mount and taking them off again.  Percival had dropped by with his own mount and accompanied Daegal on a slow ride outside the ring, along the edge of the woods - Elyan had ridden in the saddle behind Daegal, just to be safe, but he had not had to take the reins from Daegal once, and they had gone on a nice plodding walk around the frostbitten perimeter of what would be fairgrounds, come summer.  Even Mordred had made a brief appearance, in his oddly intense way - apparently out for a ride of his own, watching Elyan and Daegal lungeing Daegal’s mount for a few minutes, before nodding to the both of them and continuing on his way, his own horse cresting the hill so smoothly that it appeared as if it were not touching the ground.

“It was strange,” Daegal decided.

Merlin walked along beside him, his boots crunching on the frostbitten grass.  “Why?”

“I don’t know.  All these people - ”  Daegal paused, brushing a hand against his horse’s flank.  “I don’t see why they’re taking an interest.”

“It’s your birthday,” Merlin replied.  “People are supposed to make a fuss.”

Daegal was not sure about that.  It had not ever been his experience in the past, at least.  “It’s not really my birthday, though.”

“Only because I didn’t know about it.”

They continued walking, Daegal worrying at his lip.  “I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said abruptly, after a minute.

“You’re not enjoying yourself?”

Daegal shook his head quickly.  “I am.”  Too much, he thought.  His exhilaration at being taught how to ride had driven it from his mind for a while, but now - 

Elyan waved to someone up ahead, interrupting Daegal’s thoughts.  There in the stableyard was Gwaine, lounging against the edge of the open doors, dressed not in his crimson surcoat but in plain clothes, and tossing a small pouch from hand to hand.  

“You’re early,” Merlin called to him.  “We’ve still got to groom and water this creature.”

“I thought I was supposed to be in charge of the watering,” Gwaine replied, which seemed like a very odd thing to say.  “Wasn’t that the plan?”

“I’m talking about the horse.”

Gwaine pushed himself off the wall, joining the little group as they entered the yard.  “Our guest of honor,” he said, indicating Daegal.  “This fellow’s been doing our job for us, Elyan.  Saving the king is knight’s work, isn’t it?”

Elyan led the horse past Gwaine with a smirk.  “How would you know?  You’ve never done a bit of it.”

Gwaine shook his head, glancing at Daegal in a comradely way.  “Why does everybody think I only took this job for the food?” 

Daegal, who had only rarely interacted with Gwaine before, did not know what to answer, but Merlin saved him the trouble.  “Because we know you,” he said, and then smiled when Gwaine gave him a crooked grin.

That was utter nonsense.  Even Daegal knew that Gwaine had nearly died during Morgana’s occupation, specifically while fighting to keep a number of his fellow prisoners from starving - but Merlin and Gwaine were a bit like Merlin and Will in that way, at least to Daegal’s limited experience, wherein Gwaine did not always want people to see him for what he truly was, and Merlin always chose to see him anyway, if only from behind a mutually agreed-upon smokescreen of affectionate teasing.

“Well, let’s hurry it up,” Gwaine said, tossing his little bag in the air.  “I’d like to get on with my bit.”

His bit?  

Gwaine paused in front of the empty stall while Elyan gathered what they would need for a post-ride grooming.  “I hear it’s your birthday,” Gwaine said to Daegal, and then before Daegal could explain that it wasn’t, exactly, Gwaine handed Daegal the little leather bag.  “There’s for you, then.”

Daegal, surprised, loosened the cinched string at the top of the pouch and tipped the contents into his other hand.  Out tumbled four dice, the smoothly-carved cubes clacking against one another as they fell into Daegal’s palm.  

Daegal looked up at Gwaine, confused.

“I thought you could use them,” Gwaine said.  

“For what?”

Gwaine grinned and exchanged a knowing look with Merlin.  “My bit.”

Daegal stared at at the dice in his hand, then snapped his gaze up to Merlin, suddenly seized by a burst of excitement.  “Are we - ”

Merlin held up a finger.  “On three conditions,” he declared, obviously trying not to smile.  

Daegal closed his fingers tightly around the dice, trying not to appear too eager.

“One: you’re going to untack and groom your mount.  The stablehands will do that for you, when you ride out with our party, but she’s your responsibility.  You have to know how to take care of her.”

Daegal had no objections to that.  He already loved this horse better than anything he’d ever owned.

“Two: weak drinks only.”

We’ll see, Gwaine mouthed behind Merlin.

“Three - ”  Merlin held up a third finger.  “You leave when I leave.  Will’s right about the after-curfew crowd.  That’s a sort of trouble you don’t need.”  He looked expectantly at Daegal.  “Agreed?”

“Agreed.”  Daegal nodded fervently.  “Is it - who’s coming?”  

“Everybody!” Elyan supplied happily, uncinching the horse’s girth.  “You saved our king.  We owe you a night out.”   

Merlin, who had perhaps understood Daegal’s question better, said, “Everybody who likes drinks and dicing and general uproar.” 

This statement prompted appreciative, anticipatory grins from Gwaine and Elyan, and Daegal refrained from asking any follow-up questions, having understood the answer perfectly well.  He had been working with Merlin long enough to know that if there were one thing Will avoided more assiduously than King Arthur, it was large groups of loud people losing their heads over absolutely nothing.

“Let’s get started, then,” Gwaine said.  “D’you think you can untack this beast and learn the rules to Hazard at the same time?”

Daegal stuffed the dice into his pocket and grasped the bridle’s noseband buckle.  “I can try.”

Gwaine grinned wolfishly.  “That’s just what I like to hear.”

They ended up staying a bit later than they’d intended. 

By the time Merlin finally had the sense to bring the evening to a close, Daegal had turned the single half-penny he had started with into several silver pieces (“Alchemy!” Gwaine had proclaimed triumphantly, knocking his cup into Daegal’s so that some of the drink had sloshed over), and Daegal had become very popular with some of the tavern regulars, who were beyond tickled to see a seventeen year-old boy flatten strangers’ smug expectations of victory.  Daegal had not won every time, of course, but he had gotten extremely lucky at several critical moments and had at the very end miraculously thrown his chance number twice, after the odds had already been declared heavily against him (and thus after the other players had upped their contribution to Daegal’s stake with the expectation that he would lose).

Merlin had pulled Daegal from the game after that, sitting him back down at the knights’ table, which was piled high with food and drink.  “First lesson,” he’d said, offering Daegal a very watered-down ale, “and one you won’t learn from Gwaine - quit while you’re ahead.” 

They had stayed for a long time after that, socializing and eating their fill, until Merlin had finally seemed to take notice of the time (or perhaps of the slightly seedy-looking characters who had started to wander in through the back entrance).  Merlin, at that point, had prompted Daegal to gather his winnings, say his goodbyes, and make his exit, pursued by a chorus of enthusiastic farewells from the knights, none of whom showed any sign of abandoning their seats anytime soon.

Stepping out into the night air was like diving into a frozen moat.  Daegal drew his cloak tighter around his torso as he and Merlin wound their way through the town.  The Rising Sun’s interior had been as stiflingly hot as its namesake, overflowing with a press of bodies and thrumming with a constant cacophony of conversation, and even from the outside its closed shutters leaked driblets of light and noise, as if the building were bursting at the seams.  The town, by contrast, was stone-silent and frigid, everybody shut up in their homes waiting for the weak light of morning. 

“You did well,” Merlin said, as they approached the citadel.  “You’re sure you’ve never played Hazard before?”

Daegal shook his head.  His mother would never have let him, before, and after - 

He pushed that thought away, watching his breath mist in front of his face.  He’d never had enough money to gamble with after that, that was all.

“You weren’t helping me, were you?” Daegal asked Merlin.

“No, you got lucky.”  Merlin chuckled.  “The look on that fellow’s face...”

Daegal smiled faintly, remembering.  Daegal had taken rather a lot of money from a beefy, belligerent fellow who had been bothering everybody all night, which had resulted in a vastly improved tavern experience for all when the man had stormed out in a rage, and which had also earned a round of free drinks for Daegal’s table.  “He wasn’t too pleased, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t.  Not quite the sort of evening he was expecting to have, I don’t think.”

They walked on, approaching the retracted drawbridge, and detoured to the parallel pedestrian crossing instead, passing through the smaller door to the bridge’s left and entering the courtyard, Merlin offering a hello to the familiar guards as they went.

“How does it feel to be older?” Merlin asked, as they crossed the darkened square.

Daegal shrugged.  “I don’t know.  The same, I suppose.”

But that wasn’t exactly true, Daegal thought, as they entered the base of the North Tower.  Last year, things had been very different.  A few months ago, he could never have dreamed of the sort of day he’d been having today.  And now - 

He hesitated at the bottom of the stair leading to the physician’s chambers.  Merlin, oblivious to the fact that Daegal was not right behind him, kept climbing.  

“Why are you doing all this?” Daegal asked.  His voice sounded strange in his own ears, or maybe that was just a function of the echo in the hollow space, his words bouncing off the stone shell on either side of him.

Merlin turned around, surprised to see Daegal still standing at the bottom of the stairs.  “All what?”

Daegal made an uncertain gesture.  “This.  All these things today...I don’t understand.”

“It’s your birthday,” Merlin said, as if that made any sense at all.

“It’s not, though,” Daegal said.  “Even if it were, I don’t see - I mean, it doesn’t matter.”  He shrugged uncomfortably.  “Who cares?”

Merlin stared levelly at Daegal.  “I do,” he said.

A long silence ensued.  Daegal could not possibly have formulated a reply to this even if he’d known what to say, but Merlin did not ask him to respond, instead descending a few steps and putting a hand on Daegal’s elbow, nudging him up the staircase.  “Come on,” he said quietly.  “It’s late.”

Daegal followed him without a word, stunned and silent, seven stories straight up.

“Isn’t it a bit past your bedtime, old man?” Merlin said, immediately upon opening the doors to the physician’s chambers.  

Daegal, trailing behind, thought this was a very unusual way for Merlin to address Gaius, but as he peered around Merlin’s shoulder, he realized it was not Gaius to whom Merlin was speaking, but Will, who was sitting by the little hearthfire at the left of the room with his feet propped up on a stool.  

“No,” Will replied, though he did look like he was ready to doze off.  “It might be a bit past Arthur’s, though.”

Merlin swore and stopped dead in the doorway.  “He sent somebody up?”

“Several somebodies.”

“What did you tell them?

Will waved an unconcerned hand.  “I don’t remember.”   

“Will - ”

“Isn’t he waiting for you to turn down his sheets or something?”

“Did you tell them I was at the tavern?”

Will smirked.  

Merlin, cursing under his breath, took Daegal by the upper arms and maneuvered him into the room.  “Drink some water.  Kip on the patient cot - you’re up early collecting pots with Gaius tomorrow; you might as well sleep here.”  He tore off his outerwear and dumped it on a table.  “You,” he said to Will, “on the other hand, can go home, you ass.”

Will tipped his chair back, cupping a hand to his ear.  “What’s that?  ‘Have my bed, William’?  All right, if you say so.”

Merlin flashed Will a rude gesture before tearing out of the room.  Daegal caught the door before it could slam and closed it carefully, so as not to disturb Gaius, who was sleeping behind the screens that had been drawn around his corner.

Will rose from his seat with a yawn, stretching.  “So you had your evening out at last.”

Daegal did not answer him, his mind still trapped back there in the stairwell with Merlin.  I do, he heard again, as he struggled to untie his cloak.  I do.  

“Was it everything you thought it would be?”

Daegal managed to undo the knot, his fingers clumsy with cold.  He pulled his cloak from his shoulders and folded it slowly, first in half, then in fours, and then laid it aside before doing the same with Merlin’s rumpled jacket, single-mindedly focused on his task.

“I hope you at least took something off Gwaine.  Fellow’s too cocky for his own good.”

Daegal, out of things to fold, stared at his hands.  Will came closer, scrutinizing Daegal in the low light.  “How much did you have to drink?” 

Daegal stuck his hands into his pockets, avoiding Will’s gaze.  Not much, was the true answer, but he couldn’t find the words.  

He fingered the coins in his pocket, the silver pieces cold and clinking against one another.  

“Oi,” Will said, frowning.  He tipped Daegal’s chin up to see his eyes.  “You all right in there?”

Morgana had given Daegal a sack of coins just like this, once.

Daegal yanked his hands out of his pockets as if he had been burned, jerking back from Will’s fingers.  

“This is wrong,” he blurted out.

Will blinked at him.  “Sorry?”

“I can’t do this.  It’s - I can’t.  It’s not right.”

“What isn’t?”

“Everything!  The birthday, the money, the tavern, the riding - ”  Daegal's voice was rising, but he could not rein himself in.  He had been trying to tell this to someone all day.  “The horse, the land, breakfast - ”

Will stared at him, confounded.  “Breakfast?”

Daegal struggled mightily not to holler in frustration.  Will, of all people, ought to have understood, but it appeared he was committed to being just as obtuse as everyone else.  “Yes!  I don’t deserve it; it isn’t right - ”

Will’s eyebrows shot up.  He did not give Daegal another chance to wake Gaius, but planted a hand on Daegal’s shoulder and spun him around, muttering, “Go,” in a low voice, pushing Daegal away from Gaius’s sleeping area in the direction of Merlin’s chambers.  Daegal allowed himself to be marched up the little staircase, Will following, until they were both in Merlin’s room, the small chamber chilly and cloaked with shadows, lit only by a single hanging candle.  

Closing the door, Will turned back to Daegal.  “Start over,” he commanded.

Daegal whipped out Arthur’s envelope.  “The King - he gave me a land grant.”

Will snatched the piece of parchment out of Daegal’s hand, scanning it briefly.  “So?” he said, discarding the envelope onto Merlin’s desk.  “He can afford it.”

“But it’s - ”

“Nothing he’ll miss.”

“But - ”

“But what?”

“The Queen - ”

“What about her?”

“She gave me a horse.”

Will shrugged.  “And?”

“It’s too much!  I can’t - ”

“Are you planning to thank her for it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to take care of it?”

“Of course!”

“Then what’s the trouble?  She wanted you to have it.”

“She gave it to me for the wrong reasons!” Daegal exclaimed frustratedly.  “She kept saying I helped her, but I didn’t do anything.  I didn’t even know she needed help.  I thought she wanted the throne for herself - ”

“You stopped her killing her husband,” Will said, interrupting.  “You saved his life.”

“I didn’t save him.  I almost killed him.  I’m the reason he needed help in the first place.  But all of them are acting like - ”  Daegal thought back to earlier that night, to Elyan, who had shown Daegal how to calculate Hazard odds in his head; to Leon, who had spoken to Daegal like one of the adults; to Percival, who had taught Daegal the less savory lyrics to the tavern’s favorite drinking songs; and to Gwaine, who had murmured advice in Daegal’s ear while Daegal cast his dice.  “They kept saying I’d done their job for them.  They - ”  

A horrible, hollow feeling bloomed in Daegal’s chest, strangling his voice.  He pulled the coins out of his pocket and dumped them onto Merlin’s desk, not wanting to carry that cold weight for another moment.  “They don’t know me.  They don’t know what I’m like.”

Will watched him closely, his eyes narrowing.  “What are you like?”  

Daegal shook his head and sank down onto Merlin’s bed, staring at the floor.  He didn’t want to say it.  He shouldn’t need to say it.  Will already knew the whole story; Daegal shouldn’t have needed to retread all the ugly details.  

Will folded his arms, leaning back against the top of Merlin’s desk.  The single candle did very little to illuminate his set expression, but the moonlight in the window behind him threaded his silhouette with silver.

“I shouldn’t have said anything about my birthday,” Daegal murmured, his voice thick.  “I should have just kept it quiet.  That’s what you do, isn’t it?”

Will frowned.  “Who said that?”

“Merlin.  When I didn’t mention my birthday - he said you were - well, he said we were two of a kind.”

Will shook his head.  “I don’t hide my birthday.”

“I think you must,” Daegal said stubbornly, returning to his intense inspection of the floorboards.  “Because I don’t even know when it is.”

“Neither do I.”

Daegal looked up, surprised.  “What?”

“I don’t know when my birthday is.”

“Why - ”

Will lifted a finger repressively, and Daegal realized he was not going to be getting that part of the story tonight, or maybe ever.  “It doesn’t matter,” Will said.  “I don’t care.  I don’t fancy it much, anyhow.  It’s nothing to me.  Merlin, though - ”  He gestured at the room around them, at the mussed bedclothes and the stacked manuscripts and the sketched diagrams pasted to the walls.  “He doesn’t like it when I say things like that.  It bothers him.  He’s got ideas about how these things are supposed to be done, and he thinks it’s wrong, not telling me happy birthday, even if I’d rather he just left it alone.”

Daegal had no trouble believing it, if Merlin’s reaction to Daegal’s skipped birthday were anything to go by.  “But then - ”  Daegal frowned.  “He mustn’t know when your birthday is, either.”

“My birthday,” Will said, in a long-suffering way, “is whenever Merlin decides he wants it to be.  He comes crawling into my cott at some godsforsaken hour of the morning on whatever personally convenient day he’s picked that year, and then he yanks me out of bed and feeds me too much food and drags me all over creation doing the sort of things he thinks I’ll like doing.  I’ve been telling him to drop it for more years than you’ve been alive, but he never listens.  It doesn’t matter how much I whinge about it.  He never forgets.  He can’t help himself.  He thinks it’s important, telling people he’s happy they were born, even if they don’t think being born was such a fantastic thing themselves.”  

Will gestured at Daegal.  “If you’re going to be one of his people now, you’re going to have to get used to that.  You don’t have to like it, but you’ve got to understand it.  That’s who he is.  That’s how he treats people.  He won’t give you a pass on birthday fuss just because you don’t think you’re worth fussing over.  He’s not built that way.”

Daegal heard Merlin’s words again, echoing against the frozen stones of the stairwell.  Who cares? Daegal had asked.  

I do.

He twisted his fingers together.  Out in the physician’s chamber proper, Gaius was snoring.  

“It’s not just Merlin, though,” Daegal said finally, in a soft voice.  “Everybody - all of them are doing too much.”

“Too much how?”

“They keep thanking me.  But the gifts are - I didn’t earn them.  I don’t deserve them.”

“Who told you that?”

“I don’t need anyone to tell me; I know.”  Daegal stared at Will, helpless to explain why Will’s inability to accept this simple truth made him feel so utterly lost at sea.  “I don’t understand this.  You’re the one who kept saying I did something wrong.”

“You did do something wrong,” Will replied, as if this entire line of discussion were so obvious that it did not need to be examined.  “But you did something right, too.”

“I - ”

Will held up a hand.  “Who was it nearly got themselves killed saving Pendragon’s gleaming hide?  Who was it betrayed Morgana?”

“Me, but - ”

“Who was it came back to save Merlin’s life?”

“From something I did to him in the first place.”

“From something Morgana did to him,” Will corrected.

“I helped,” Daegal retorted.  “You’re always saying - you said I need to take responsibility.”

“You do,” Will said.  “For all your choices.  Not just the shyte ones.”  He gestured at the door, back towards the rest of the castle.  “You saved two lives.  You nearly got yourself killed doing it.  That’s what they’re all thanking you for.  It’s not about what you did for yourself; it’s what you did for everyone else, when you didn’t have to.  You didn’t have to come back for Merlin.  You didn’t have to follow him to Camelot.  You could have just taken Morgana’s money and run.”

“I tried,” Daegal confessed, his mouth very dry.  “I tried.  I couldn’t do it.”

“Why not?” Will said, as if he already knew the answer.

“I just - couldn’t.”  Daegal remembered it with a nightmarish clarity, hesitating in the thickness of the undergrowth as the encroaching night muddled his vision, knowing that Merlin was suffocating at the bottom of a muddy ravine where no one would ever find his body.  “I felt like something was going to swallow me.  I would’ve rather died than felt like that all the time.”

“That’s because you know what’s right and what’s wrong,” Will said, as if he had been waiting for Daegal to say this all along.  “And you chose right.”

“I chose wrong first.”

Will shook his head.  “Lots of people choose wrong first.  Doesn’t mean that what you choose next doesn’t matter.”

Daegal played with the hem of his sleeve, wrapping a fraying thread around his finger.  Will pushed himself up from the desk and dragged Merlin’s chair over to a spot across from Daegal, then sat down.  “Listen here,” he said.  “I can’t say I’d be too pleased to get a load of gifts that I didn’t think I ought to have, either.  But you can’t give them back, and you can’t convince people that you don’t deserve them, either.”  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  “You’ve got to just smile, and say thank you, and do your best to be worthy of everyone’s gifts.”

Daegal absorbed this, nodding slowly.  “I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” Will said.  “And so does everyone else.”  Will met Daegal’s gaze unflinchingly, his outline illuminated at the edges by the moon at his back.  “Don’t you ever tell me that lot doesn’t know what you’re like.  They know it better than you do.”

Daegal swallowed, not trusting himself to speak.  

“Now then,” Will said, linking his hands behind the back of his chair and stretching out his arms.  “This is rubbish timing, but you’ve got to start practicing sometime, so let’s just get it over with.”  He withdrew a thin, utensil-sized package from his pocket, extending it to Daegal.  “Don’t have a crisis, now.”

“Oh - no - ” Daegal moaned.

“Oi,” Will warned.  “What’ve we just talked about?”

Daegal took the parcel.

“Smile and say thank you,” Will prompted, when Daegal did not say anything right away.

Daegal managed a wobbly smile, and an even wobblier thank you, which Will, to Daegal’s very great relief, chose not to comment upon.

Daegal untied the parcel.  The cloth casing fell away, revealing a short and sturdy pocketknife encased in a plain leather sheath.  Daegal picked it up and turned it over in his hands, knowing immediately that Will had carved the handle himself.  It fit into Daegal’s hand as if it had been moulded from a plaster cast, and it was the only part of the knife sporting any decoration, inscribed as it was with an angular script that Daegal could not read in this light.  Daegal removed the sheath and found that the blade had been sharpened to a dangerous edge, the point glinting in the moonlight.

“Elyan did that bit,” Will said.  “It ought to hold an edge better than what you have now.”

“No more mashing seed pods,” Daegal murmured.

“Exactly.”

Daegal ran a finger over the symbols carved into the handle.  He hadn’t learned all his letters yet, but he thought he ought to have been able to recognize a few of them, at least.  “What’s this writing?”

“Oh, that,” Will said, as if he had almost forgotten.  “It’s spelled.”

“Spelled?”

“Magicked.  Against slips.  To spare your fingers.”  Will waggled his own fingers in the air, and Daegal had to laugh a little.

“Merlin?”

Will’s face took on a thoughtful look.  “No, actually.”  He pointed at the unfamiliar runes, his tone becoming more serious.  “Mordred says that if you’re going to exploit his people for personal gain, then you’re going to learn something about the culture.”

Daegal froze.  A chill ran through him.  He had never even considered - 

He gripped the inscribed handle with sweaty fingers, mortified.  “He’s angry with me.”

“No,” Will said.  “I don’t think so, at least.  It’s hard to tell with that fellow.”

At Daegal’s dismayed look, Will added, “He offered to spell the thing himself, at least, so I can’t imagine he’s too upset with you.  But he has every right to be, you realize that?”

Daegal nodded quickly.     

“You’re going to go and see him,” Will said, his voice calm, but his tone brooking no argument.  “And you’re going to apologize, and you’re going to listen to whatever it is he wants to tell you.  You understand?”

“Yes,” Daegal said quickly.  “I’ll do it.”  He glanced at the door.

“Not now,” Will clarified.  “Tomorrow.  He might not be angry just yet, but he will be if you yank him out of bed a few hours before he’s supposed to be on patrol.”

Daegal’s shoulders sagged.  Will was right, but Daegal could not stand the thought of waiting.  Yet another guilt-monster was chewing a hole in his stomach, and he was starting to think those gnawing teeth would never let him sleep.  He recalled, suddenly, with a fresh wave of horror, the outrage on Merlin’s face when Daegal’s falsified triskele had smeared away, how tightly Merlin’s fingers had dug into Daegal’s wrist.  

Here was one more stupid thing Daegal had done.  One more person he’d injured.  One more wrongheaded decision.  

His eyes drifted longingly towards the door again.  

“No,” Will said, shaking his head.  “You made that bed, now you lie in it for one night.”  

Daegal sighed, and Will’s tone softened.  “You’ll make it right in the morning,” he said.

Daegal traced one of the Druidic runes with a finger.  He supposed that was the best he could do.

Will stood up and beckoned for Daegal to join him.  “Listen,” he said, pushing Merlin’s chair back under the desk.  “It’s late.  I don’t want you up all night brooding over this, all right?”

“All right,” Daegal said, but he had a feeling he was in for yet another night of lying awake under a blanket of guilt he had woven for himself.

“And - not that this needs to be said, but let’s not tell anyone you’ve got a magic pocketknife, all right?  Pendragon will think I’ve been messing about with enchantments behind his back, and he’ll have me booted out of this kingdom faster than you can say insufferable bastard.”

“But you don’t have - ”

“Yes, I do,” Will reminded Daegal, giving him a significant look.  “And that’s exactly what you’re going to tell people, if anybody starts asking questions.”  He opened Merlin’s door, ushering Daegal through it.  “But let’s not give folk a reason to ask, all right?  Otherwise the next person trying to kill the king might be me, because if Pendragon wants me out of this place he’s going to have to execute me and exile my corpse, no matter if I did sign a stupid promise ‘renouncing the practice of magic in all its forms,’ or whatever other rubbish that idiot asked me to agree to.”

Daegal followed Will across the main chamber, watching while Will pulled on his outerwear.  “I’m guessing he never gave you a land grant, then?”

Will burst into laughter, leaning heavily on the door handle.  He only remembered to clap a hand over his mouth when a slumbering Gaius snorted and rolled over.  “Oh, lor,” he wheezed, trying to recover himself.  “Don’t do that to me.”  

Daegal smiled sheepishly.  Will straightened up, his eyes creased with pure, undisciplined mirth.  “You won’t let all those fancy presents go to your head, now, will you?”

“I won’t,” Daegal promised.   “But - about Arthur’s gift, though.  I don’t actually know what to do with a plot of land.”

“Neither does Arthur,” Will said, rolling his eyes.  “But I do, and so does Merlin.  We’ll work it out together, all right?”

“All right,” Daegal said, as Will unlatched the door.  “Erm.  Will - ”

“Yeah.”

Smile and say thank you.  “Thank you,” Daegal said, trying on a smile for size, hoping it did not falter too much at the corners.  “For the knife, and - everything else.”

Will regarded him in that way of his that was very off-putting when you did not want to be read like a book but somehow oddly useful when you were trying to communicate something unspoken.  “You’re welcome,” Will said finally, surprising Daegal by reaching out and mussing his hair.  “See?  You’ve got the hang of things already.”

Will turned to go, but when he reached the top of the staircase he paused, glancing back.  “And, listen - ” he said, his voice low enough not to wake Gaius, but somehow warm enough to push back the December chill.  “Whether you like it or not - happy birthday, lad.”

Daegal sat tucked away in one of the window nooks, his cloak wrapped around him like a blanket and the glass casement leaching heat away from his side.  Merlin was long since abed, and Gaius’s muffled snores filled the main chamber, a soft drone of sound behind the screens.  Outside, the moon hung chubby and ovoid in the sky, like a pale seed on a black field of soil, like the bulbs Daegal would plant in his new garden, which was out there somewhere, nestled in the farming fields of the Sprawl.

He rubbed his thumb over the unfamiliar runes carved into the handle of his birthday blade.  His sixteen year-old self would have thrown that knife away, just to be safe.  There would have been no reason for him to believe that someone he’d injured would ever magick a gift for him just to be helpful, and sixteen year-old Daegal would have assumed that the spell “to spare his fingers” was in fact a curse to make sure they all fell off.  

But seventeen year-old Daegal was determined not to think like that anymore.  He was not going to think the worst of everyone who tried to help him, and he was not going to throw away gifts, whether he thought he deserved them or not.  He was going to smile, and say thank you, and do his best to be worthy of what he’d been given.

He leaned his forehead against the cold glass, looking down at the flickering lights on the city walls and the dark countryside beyond.  The Sprawl’s rolling jumble of cottages and fields melted into a shadowy sea of forest, and far away, the looming bulk of the White Mountains towered over the skyline, the peaks’ black silhouettes only distinguishable at this hour by an absence of stars.  

It was a very big world, Daegal thought, following the craggy outline of the range with his eyes.  And he had made plenty of bad decisions blundering around within its borders, that was certain.  But there was something beautiful about it still, even in the dead of winter.  

And it was not nearly as bleak as it had appeared to be, this time last year.  

Seventeen was going to be different, Daegal told himself.  Like Merlin always said.  It won’t always be like this.  Things will be better.  Daegal could make them better.  He had chosen wrong first, but he could choose right next.  He could choose right from now on.  He had made a mistake, but he could make it right in the morning.  

And tonight - tonight, it was still his birthday.

It isn’t, his sixteen year-old self snapped.  

“It is,” Daegal said.  “It’s my birthday.”

Who cares, the voice scoffed.

Daegal wrapped his fingers around his unearned mark of forgiveness, the grooves of the rune-etched handle imprinting themselves into his skin.  “I do,”  he said firmly, putting every ounce of conviction he had behind the words.  “I do.”

His younger self shut its mouth.

Daegal smiled slightly.  “Happy birthday to me,” he murmured, and was surprised to find that for the first time in a long time, he actually meant it.  

Curled up against the window, he tucked his knife against his side and fixed his eyes on the horizon, settling in to wait for the sun.

[leiasfanaccount648]

The 3 Times Kenma Didn’t Get What You Wanted for Your Bday & the 1 Time He Did

(Kenma Kozume x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Like all friends, they remember what is most important to them, especially one another’s birthdays. However, Kenma seems to be struggling with finding you that perfect present year after year.

A/N: This is for the absolutely lovely @briswriting​!!! I’m so happy to call you my friend, that you got me into Animal Crossing, and I hope you have an amazing bday today <3 :)

Warnings/Contains: Fluff, birthdays, the tiniest amount of angst. Disclaimer, I did some research on the video games I mentioned in this but none of the release dates match up lol.

Word Count: 2033

Elementary School; 5th year

“Happy Birthday, (Y/N)!”

“Wait, what?”

Kenma looked up from his GameBoy as he heard people talking by the door of the classroom. He saw one of his neighbors that he had bet through Kuroo talking to some of her friends and receiving some gifts and snacks from them.

Kenma looked at the desk in front of him and saw a few more trinkets and such from people in other classes. They may not have known each other for that long, but (Y/N) was the first friend of his that actually wanted to play video games rather than volleyball like Kuroo.

(Y/N) was nice, and had great taste in games; he would gladly call her his friend. So what do friends of a couple months get one another for their birthdays?

“Good morning, Kenma!” (Y/N) brought him out from his thoughts as she walked over and sat down at her desk, facing him with a bright smile. “What’re you playing?” She peered over his desk to try and catch a glimpse at what game was on the screen.

“I, um,” Kenma glanced down at his GameBoy as Pokemon: Red and Blue was still playing. He didn’t get to answer as (Y/N) already saw the screen with a gasp.

“Are you about to play the battle against Professor Oak?”

Kenma couldn’t explain it, but he felt his heart jump at her knowledge of the game. He knew that she played it, but he thought that she had just gotten it a couple weeks ago. “Yeah, I am.” He smiled shyly and quickly paused the game so he could talk to her properly. “Happy birthday, by the way. I’m sorry, but I didn’t get you anything.”

(Y/N) shook her head, waving her hands in front of her as well. “No, no! It’s totally fine! Trust me, you didn’t have to get me anything.” She smiled, moving her hair out of her face shyly. “Honestly what I keep getting from my friends gets to be too much of a hassle.”

Kenma smiled a little, finding her reasoning quite amusing; however he could tell during lunch she definitely enjoyed eating the cookies that someone had made her. He tried to think of something he could do for her, but he trusted her word to not worry too much. Besides, there was always next year.

--------

Middle School; 3rd year

It was late, almost too late to Kenma’s liking as he had just finished volleyball practice and wanted to do nothing than go home and finally get some rest before the weekend started tomorrow. However, he had one last thing to do.

Kenma had been hearing (Y/N) raving about the game for weeks, and he had managed to get it pre-ordered and delivered the day that it came out. Now he stood outside her apartment, hoping that she would like it.

He texted her to come to her door, and it was obvious that she was confused, but did so nonetheless. She smiled as she saw him, about to greet him, but he beat her to it, holding out a small, wrapped box for her to take.

“Happy birthday, (Y/N).”

“Oh my god, Kenma you didn’t!” (Y/N) grinned wide as she noticed the shape of the wrapped box her friend had handed her. She opened it without hesitation, expecting to see Pokemon X and Y, but instead saw Animal Crossing: New Leaf. She felt touched that he remembered how much she wanted that game, but still looked up at Kenma with sorrow.

“Kenma, I am so sorry,” she laughed nervously, starting to feel guilty. “But my parents got me the game already along with a new 3DS.” (Y/N) knew that there was no way that he could have known, but she felt guilty nonetheless over the fact that Kenma had spent his money to get her the game.

Kenma on the other hand felt nothing but embarrassment. He realized his mistake and that he should have asked her parents if she was going to be getting the game. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if there was more than just that game that you wanted.”

Like she did back in elementary school, she shook her head. “No, you’re fine, Kenma.” She laughed softly to try and lighten the mood, but she could still tell that Kenma felt awkward about getting her a game that she had been gifted not 3 hours ago. Then she smiled. “Wait! Now that you have the game, we can play it together!”

Kenma tilted his head a little, confused. “I thought it wasn’t a multiplayer game.”

“It’s not, but we can still keep up with one another’s progress and stuff. It’ll be like when we play Pokemon and see who can defeat the boss quicker!”

Although it wasn’t Kenma’s ideal choice of game style, he still kept the game and played with (Y/N) both online and while they hung out together. Soon enough, he became addicted and got a whole level ahead of (Y/N) despite their agreement to build their islands and such together.

--------

High School; 2nd Year

It was raining after school, and Kuroo had decided to cancel practice due to the weather scheduled to get worse throughout the evening. Kenma felt grateful for two reasons. One, he could go home and finish his homework early before playing some more Animal Crossing. Two, he could see (Y/N) before she had her club and give her the batch of his mom’s homemade brownies that he promised her a few days ago.

Kenma was on his way towards the room where he knew she would be at, however he didn’t expect her to be sitting outside the door. He saw her phone in hand along with her backpack leaning against her. Then he caught sight of her face and rushed over as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes. “(Y/N)?”

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of her name, instinctively reaching up to wipe below her eyes before putting on the best smile she could muster at the last second. “Kenma!” She chuckled and stood up quickly to straighten herself out. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at practice?”

“Kuroo cancelled it due to the weather planning to get worse. So I decided to bring you the brownies since you said you wanted them for your birthday.” Kenma reached into his bag and pulled out a small container that contained the sweets. (Y/N) didn’t say another word, just stepping forward and bringing him into a hug.

Kenma froze as she did so, not sure how to react. “(Y-Y/N)?”

“Just,” she took a deep breath to keep from letting out any tears. “Let me have this, please?”

Kenma looked at her, wondering what it was that was causing her to be so upset, but he knew that she would tell him on her own time. For now, all he did was hug her and he practically felt the tension and nerves in her body melt away, ignoring how his heart raced rapidly due to her being so close and for so long.

That year, Kenma was the only one who had remembered (Y/N)’s birthday.

--------

College; 1st year

It was a couple days before (Y/N)’s birthday and Kenma was stressing beyond belief. Ever since high school, Kuroo he had begun to realize that he had developed feelings for her and he never knew how to express them into words or actions. 

He remembered the day that Kuroo pointed it out to him because they were playing an online game together and Kenma had managed to lose against both him and Bokuto. Needless to say it was obvious that something was bothering him and Kuroo needed to know (even if he already did).

Either way, he wanted to do what he thought would make her happy for her birthday. Some had been flops while others he felt like haven’t been the right gift, but he still did what he could.

This year however, he wanted to know exactly what she wanted.

The two of them were in the middle of playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons when Kenma thought he’d just ask via the game while they were fishing on his island.

‘btw, what do u want 4 ur bday?’

Since they were at different universities and couldn’t physically see each other, (Y/N) assumed that he would just craft/give her something in the game.

‘a cat to cuddle & love 4ever’

Kenma chuckled at her reply, smiling to himself as he typed out one himself, but (Y/N) added another response.

‘even though it’s not in the game XD’

Oh.

Kenma froze for a moment as he realized how (Y/N) interpreted his question. But he still got an answer and wasn’t going to take it for granted. He quickly got on his laptop and pulled up Amazon. Lucky for him, he found a cat plushie that he knew (Y/N) would like that would arrive the day before her birthday.

On the fateful day, Kenma headed to her dorm as he knew she was spending her birthday on a different day with her family and would most likely be cooped up side playing games (much like himself). Once he messaged her to come outside and was met with a ‘read’ text, he knew she was on her way down to greet him. When (Y/N) saw him with the stuffed cat in his arms, she ran over and hugged him tightly as she could.

Kenma almost lost his footing and fell, but he managed to stay standing and hug her back. “I know what you said you wanted a cat, but I didn’t want you to get kicked out of your dorm.”

(Y/N) laughed, shaking her head at his words before pulling away. She also took the cat plushie from him to get a better look at it before holding it in her arms. She smiled shyly at him. “Kenma, I was talking about you.”

“Wait, what?” Kenma’s eyes widened, repeating the words she said a couple days ago in his head. He felt his cheeks start to turn pink as (Y/N) spoke up again.

“All I wanted was to spend my birthday with you.” She glanced to the side, starting to feel flustered. “You’ve been my best friend for years and you’re so nice and considerate, not to mention cute,” she giggled, pausing briefly. “It’s practically impossible for anyone not to be around you and,” she met his gaze again. “I like you, Kenma.”

Kenma didn’t know when he did or what made him think it was a good idea, but he reached out with one hand and held the back of her head as he pulled her in for a kiss, which she gladly returned a second later. Once he pulled away, he smiled shyly as though silently apologizing for being so straightforward and sudden.

“Uh,” Kenma cleared his throat, letting go of her so she could have some space. “Would you like to go get some dinner?” It was obvious that he wasn’t sure what to say or do at the moment.”

(Y/N) simply shook her head, reaching for his hand and leading him into the building in which she stayed at. “I’d much rather spend my birthday eating takeout and playing video games with you. How does that sound?”

“But, it’s your birthday.” Kenma followed her to the elevator, still holding her hand.

“Exactly, so that means we’re going to do what I want.” (Y/N) giggled and kissed his cheek before stepping inside the elevator with him and pressing the button for her floor. “And I want to cuddle you while we eat and play Animal Crossing together.”

Kenma smiled, squeezing her hand to let her know his thoughts on her plans for the rest of the evening. “Sounds like a plan.” He was thankful that he decided to bring his Nintendo Switch with him.

“Oh, and that means that I want all of the turnips you bought yesterday, too.”

“Wait what?”

[talkfantasytome]

I see that you have a lot of Nessian stories. 1) Are they your favorite ship? 2) What's your favorite piece of your favorite ship that you've written. 3) And on a separate note, are you currently working on something? If so, can you gives us a snippet?

HI NONNIE!

Okay, first, I just wanna let you know, you're gonna have a special place in my heart forever. <3 You're the first to ask me questions like this/questions about me, and I'm soooo excited. 💕

Also, sorry, but I'm excited and I talk a lot in general, and typing doesn't change that...

1) YES! Nessian very much is (so far). Don't get me wrong, there are a loooot of other ships I love. And Lysaedion got pretty close to taking over, ngl. And I do have a fic I'm hoping to write for them with a prompt sitting in my ask box. Plus other fic ideas for other ships, and I want to do more in both ToG and ACOTAR (CC it'll basically always be 'It Would've Been So Right' and whatever one-shots/drabbles come after it in the same AU.) But, there's something about Nessian. No matter what, I keep coming back to them. And while it may just be me being wayyy to in love with Cassian, I do think it's more than that. xD

2) Hmmmm...THAT'S SO TOUGH! It's probably, at the moment, Don't Forget Your Orgasm - cause the banter that inspired the title may be some of THE BEST banter I've ever written. But, I don't know...The Girl in the Hat also holds a special place in my heart. Maybe cause I literally thought of it in the shower, and within about 3-4 hours it was all written and published, on the eve of my birthday. lol But, that one's harder to think about - cause it makes me cry.

Wait, no, actually, I think it's Did You Know You Have a Freckle? (see, I even linked that one). Which is in the Velaris Tattoo Parlor series. I was really happy with how I structured it, and also how I ended it, kinda turning it around. It's just soft and fluffy and so sweet.

3) Something Nessian or something in general? 👀 I'll admit, I have a lot more written outside of Nessian, mostly cause a lot of my Nessian stuff is shorter stories and it gets published faster. I do have a fic I'm slowlyyyy working on that is NextGen and does, kinda, involve a Nessian kid - BUT THAT'S ALL I'LL SAY! (Other than a snippet I maybe already shared.)

So, I'll give you two short snippets.

Here's basically my only current Nessian WIP that's more than an idea/bullet points/two lines:

"Happy Solstice, Cassian," she said kindly. She gave him a small hug or, well, it was more like she lightly pressed her body against his, and then stepped back, leaving a small, wrapped box in his hand. She looked toward Emerie and then back up at him. "I'm happy for you." She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and then walked out the room, giving everyone a final wave before collecting her coat and heading out into the night to go back to her place.

He couldn't help but wonder if she was going to that same apartment. Perhaps he could fly by there tonight-

No, Cassian! He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity and then looked back at the box.

He turned it over in his hands, studying the precise wrapping. She'd gotten him a gift. He didn't even know if he could open it. The fact that he had a present from Nesta was enough. He could place this wrapped box on his nightside table and it would be the best piece of decoration in any house he'd ever lived in.

(Sad truth: This has been a WIP since before pretty much every Nessian piece I've published.)

And, super smol, surprise WIP, not telling what. 😝

Adayra pulled away, her brow furrowed as she looked at him, confusion building within her.

"You...," he started, sighing heavily. "You're not going to like what you see."

She brushed her thumb against his cheek. "Impossible," she said gently, her eyes locking with his.

Watching his torso, Adayra undid the third and fourth button, certain she saw his chest rising higher with each breath.

[xxrainstormxx]

Birthday Gift. Spencer Reid x Reader (Smut)

(A/N: So I've found out Spencer content gets the most attention and hes my favorite so there is no problem here. And no one is making requests. So I'm doing my best. Maybe I should stick to Spencer XD. Anyway. 10 year age gap. Hope you don't mind. Anyway it’s Spencer’s 30th birthday. in this story. Send in some requests!) Word count: 3,000

Spencer was watching (Y/N), they were drinking with Emily and laughing at stupid things. He had been in love with (Y/N) for years. They were a writer who was now working at the BAU as an agent now. He had always found it endearing how they managed to keep writing books while also doing their work as an agent. 'How is someone so stunning, smart, and funny at the same time?' He thought to himself. (Y/N) giggled and walked over sitting in front of him "Earth to Spencer Reid~" They teased as they waved their hand in front of his face. He blushed realizing he'd been staring, and the loud music rushed back into his ears as he was sucked from his thoughts back to reality. The bar, it was a club but he was now 30 and didn't want to admit that, was loud and the music was the absolute worst thing he'd heard. "You good wonder boy?" they asked smiling slightly worried. "Oh yeah!" he called loudly, the music nearly drowning out his gruff voice. They just giggled and nodded "Not my setting" he finished his statement with a chuckle. "Would never have guess" They grinned tauntingly. The playful leer was enough to make his heart melt. Romance was never Spencer's strong point, but for (Y/N), he made a special exception. There were just ways they made him feel human, he didn't like to admit how the others treated him like some alien. "You seem like the introverted type" They smiled "Skipping, what... basically ten years of school does that." they hummed. "did you know that school is actually designed for extroverts along with basically being outdated in the sense of its teaching you how to work for a factory?" he hummed happily "Spence, wonderboy, baaaaaaaby!" they called with a giggle "I love ya facts normally, but I am just a little to drunk to really process what you are saying!" The 24 year old giggled. "Its your birthday, and I respect ya! I do, but everyone is drinking way too much" They giggled. 

"Right. That's the reason you don't wanna listen" He laughed softly. He didn't mind usually being told to stop spewing facts as long as it was (Y/N) telling him. It was a specially thing they had where it wasn't disrespectful or out of annoyance. It was because they genuinely appreciated what he said and just wanted to understand it better. So he had no reason to not listen to them, their relationship was really a wonderful thing and he cherished it. "You know i love you and your facts!" they squealed leaning on him. "Oh I know" he laughed gently kissing their forehead softly, the mostly platonic kiss was always a thing between them. The team always thought of it like a quote "father, child" thing but that just hurt his feelings. The thought that he really never had a chance because he was "too old" for the only person that really understood him. Age gaps were always controversial especially since they saw the grossest of age gaps between an adult and literal children. It made zero sense in his mind as to why they didn't like it, there were much worse things it could be an he certainly wasn't old enough to be her dad. Maybe it was his own fucked up justification for the way he felt but (Y/N) certainly didn't look like a child nor act like one. They had a mature figure, one that if they bent over at just the right angle over a desk, or pouring over a file, or even interrogating he felt he would just about die. They dressed in a very professional way despite their young age just as he had at the same age. They took themselves seriously but also knew when to call it quits or make fun of themselves. They were a perfect blend of human. He stared at their lips, wondering how soft they really were, and questioning why they used a chapstick that gave off such a strong scent that reminded him of sugar, and he wondered if it had a taste, like cherry, or plum. He wondered if he could make their voice crack as he drew circles on their body with his fingers only to touch what really mattered. He wondered if he could make their perfect mouth cry out his name in pure ecstasy how sweet they would feel clenched around his- "-SPENCER!" they squealed laughing "you've been staring into space for at least 7 fuckin minutes" they snorted tapping his nose softly making him blush. "You okay Dr." they asked affectionately. "y-Yeah course I am" he whispered, it wasn't exactly good for their location but they seemed to understand, but he wasn't okay. He was hard, and uncomfortable. He was thankful that the bar could hide it well enough, because the jeans he wore for the sake of his party weren't doing any favors to hide his friend. "You sure? You seem a little uncomfortable" they commented leaning towards him. 

He could practically feel their shaky drunk breath on his neck and god that didn't help. Their body was stunning in the outfit they had chosen, a simple black top with waist high black skinny jeans and dark green and blue painted combat boots. their body retained its beautiful shape clothes taking the shape of them. They way they stared at him brought back all the thought, making him wonder what their hair would look like as he splayed them out on his bed making them bounce and beg for more and more of him. The doctor was seen as no innocent the idea of him having these thoughts was only a fake concept to them. "Just fine. Bar seats aren't the best to sit on" he laughed softly "Then lets dance!" (Y/N) grinned grabbing his hand pulling him out of seat. The music had changed thanks to Emily practically begging to slow dance with the date she had brought. The idea of being so close thrilled Spencer normally but his current situation made it actually impossible to comprehend and made the anxiety of the situation overwhelming. They giggled "I-I'm really not in the mood to dance." he squeaked out "it'll be fun- come o- OH!" they squeaked after pushing close to him to dance they realized just why he was so flustered and uncomfortable. What caught him by surprise, was they didn't pull away. "S-sorry- I tried to be subtle, b-but y-you.... you uh..." he sighed "I just.... need the uh... space to get rid of it.... and if you want to we c-can dance after" He muttered flustered, but (Y/N) didn't move. "(Y/N), are you okay? Y-you haven't moved." he squeaked again as they pushed as closed "Act natural. You don't want the rest of the team knowing do you. If you walk away suddenly they'll know" they said softly swaying with him to the music. He shivered wiggling "you c-can't... shift like that." he gasped quietly "it's..." he mewled quietly turning red. They could have left they didn't have to be so close, they didn't have to touch him, wait, they were touching him, like, hand in the pants, touching! "Bathroom" they whispered in his ear before leaving him literally wanting. He followed after a few moments of shock. This was all very new, he'd only ever masturbated but now he was going to straight to sex in public. Holy shit. He walked in confused hearing the door behind him and lock. He turned only to be pushed against the outside of the stall. "I checked, no one is in here" (Y/N) said quietly getting onto their knees. "w-wh-why?" he yelped quietly "What do you mean?" they asked working his belt glancing up to him. "Why a-are you do-doing this for me?" he stuttered "I want to? duh." they giggled and kissed the top of his pelvis. "N-no, why...?" he panted nearly throwing his head back in anticipation. "Do I need to spell out the fact that I like you?" they purred tugging down his pants "I... I like you too." he whispered pulling them to their feet. "What are you-" they squeaked before Spencer pulled them close into a kiss. Both of them had wanted this for way too long, and so the sweet innocent kiss quickly escalated into a tangled mess of limbs, grabbing, and panting. "Lets go to my apartment, I don't want to do this here." he whispered "I've pictured you too many times to not do this right." he growled kissing down their neck as they mewled "Got it. Thi-think the others will noticed?" (Y/N) questioned before gasping as they were grabbed and slowly rubbed "Do you want to really think about them now?" he whispered nipping their ear softly "god no. I'll meet you there" they whispered pulling back and left to quickly go. Spencer swiftly heeded telling all his friends he was tired. Thankfully they hadn't connected his need to leave to (Y/N)'s and he was gone. 

(Y/N)'s P.o.V

I somehow arrived after Spencer, probably because he didn't have alcohol in his system. I wasn't exactly drunk, just buzzed, but I needed to be careful still. Getting pulled over was no ideal. I made my way up to his floor quickly, Spencer liked me, he liked me and that was enough for me. He had even kissed me, age gap... no age gap, agent, not an agent, I loved him. And I had been since we properly became friends. I personally didn't believe in love at first sight but god I know about attraction and want. I knew what I wanted, and that was Spencer Reid, I'd take him however I could. I came up behind the man himself kissing his shoulder as he struggled with his key. I reached around grabbing him and stroking him slowly. "Hurry up wonder boy." I blew against his ear causing him to grunt "You aren't helping" he groaned bucking up into my hand. "Are you a top or a bottom?" I teased as he struggled more, "I can imagine you on the bed, panting and moaning as I ride your cock." I ran my finger up his shaft slowly causing him to moan "You begging for more. Crying out my name. I bet you couldn't be a top if you wanted" I snapped teasingly. The door flew open and he pulled me in, pinning me against the wall causing a breathy moan to slip through my slightly dry lips. He slammed the door lifting my leg grinding against me. "Are you always such a brat when you're horny?" He moaned softly sucking softly on a spot on my jaw. "And what if I am?" I mewled, before crying out as he slammed against the wall bucking against me teasingly. The clothes being in the way pissed me off slightly. A small string of curses left his mouth "It's fucking hot." He muttered. It was a little shocking to hear to Spencer curse but it was enough to make me shut the fuck up for a second. "God fuck me" I gasped rolling my hips against his needily "you know. You were the only person who didn't get me a birthday present" he hummed softly "M-maybe b-because I planned on something like this" I muttered. It was the truth, I planned on confessing and had a backup present in my car. I knew full well that I wanted to do this tonight, I even put a condom in my pocket. "Wow. Such a naughty whore." I mewled at the sentence, something about Spencer saying that was enough to nearly kill me there. I groaned in pleasure pushing down on his dick. "I want you. I want you so bad!" I dragged my nails down his chest panting already. He groaned picking me up, I used the opportunity to kick my shoes off and he walked us to his room as I worked on throwing off my shirt. He attacked my chest with love bites and kisses as he pinned me to the bed giving me a chance to work at his shirt and belt. "shit" he whispered biting his lip "you look just as good as I imagined you would." he moaned rolling his hips against me once again. The clothes were really on my nerves "off" I hissed, tugging at my own pants "now! please god!" I moaned, I rolled my hips up gasping. "Why should I?" he whispered chuckling. He was so fucking hot like this. His gruff voice just kept making me shiver and I whined "Because I need you too." I moaned legs finally free of my stupid tight pants. Beauty is pain, he sighed "Such a brat" he growled and pulled himself out of his pants making me drool at the sight "I shouldn't-" he began making me whine "-but you're too much to resist" He muttered kissing me. 

I kissed back after a moment of not expecting it, his tongue making its way into my own. Spencer was an absolute god when it came to kissing, as his tongue made it's rounds around my mouth I mewled when it brushed the roof of it. I was so distracted by the kiss I hadn't noticed that he aligned with my entrance until he suddenly shoved into me. I didn't even know he put on the condom but I felt it, mostly him though. I gasped rolling my hips up nearly biting his tongue. He moaned panting "Fuck you're hot" He groaned "tight" he panted softly slowly beginning to thrust into me. I moaned loudly the suddenness of it making my head spin with pleasure "S-Spence!" I moaned as he pushed in and out of me at a slow and steady pace. I melted under him grabbing at his back, his shirt hadn't even come off yet. I wanted it off though. "Off. Sp-Spencer! Please take the shirt off." He moaned, absolute music to my ears, rocking against me taking off his shirt quickly "Such. A. Fucking. Brat" he hissed slamming into me with every word. I cried out eyes rolling back. The sounds of our moans and the slapping of skin filled the otherwise empty room. "Oh fuck!" I cried out running my hands down his chest admiring him lovingly. He may have been skinny but that didn't mean he wasn't built well. His hair fell and framed his face he looked like an actual god. "You're so fucking hot" he groaned and I arched my back with a high cry. "I-I'm- oh god- I'm cumming!" I covered my mouth. "Not. Yet." he groaned pulling out of me as I whined. "N-not fair!" I moaned "Sometimes brats need to be taught a lesson" He growled pulling me off the bed onto the floor. "Open your mouth" he said grabbing my face. I panted and opened my mouth wide. I gasped loudly as he pushed his cock into my mouth. I moaned loudly knowing what he wanted before I was even told. I bobbed my head quickly moaning at every movement and sound he made. "Baby~" he mewled as I ran my tongue up his shaft pulling off for a second to breathe before licking the tip. I pushed forward and started sucking on him again. He groaned in pleasure grabbing my hair. "Good girl. Learning not be a damn brat." He moaned teasingly, I wanted this for so long and the fact it was happening made my head spin, and my eyes roll back. After a long while he pushed me up and grabbed me shoving into me not even bothering to put me on the bed. I nearly collapsed my legs nearly giving out. So he picked me up shoving me against the wall. "Shit baby~ You're so good for me now." He gasped out "You can cum for me baby" he whispered in my ear kissing me again. I cried out loudly wiggling, against him. I bounced quickly against him, cumming and basically spilling out onto him moaning loudly. I pulled back throwing my head back as he continued to thrust into me way too hard. It drove me absolutely crazy. I moaned his name a few more times "I... I can't.. Oh god" I gasped feeling him fill me entirely with his cum. He collapsed back onto the bed with me still in his arms resting on his chest. "Damn..." he whispered against my neck. I only yawned in response, not able to speak. "I... I love you. Not just like." he whispered. "I know it's not the time, but I don't want this to be a one night stand. Or a friends with benefits thing. I want you. I want to be yours. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk tomorrow" He whispered earning a tired yawn from me. I gasped softly as he pulled out leaving me feeling empty. And to sleep we went. 

3rd person P.o.V

The next morning (Y/N) had woke up sore and alone. It was strange to them but they smiled as Spencer walked into the room. "Hi." he whispered handing them some pain medicine. "Did you sleep well?" He asked them petting their head and brushing the hair out of their eyes. "hi... I slept great" they mumbled taking it with a hum. "Good. Do you uh, need a shower?" he asked gently "and your clothes are in the dryer." he mumbled shyly. It was a funny thing, how dominate and rough he was, but now soft and shy as usual. It made them smile "I... I really care for you." he whispered "And I want you to be comfortable." He whispered. "I love you too Spencer." I giggled quietly "A shower would be lovely." they laughed a little. Spencer grinned happily "Best birthday present ever"

[realityshiftingandblogging]

Explaining My DR

⚠️ Before you read, please keep in mind my DR is based from a lot of mythology. Please do not feel offended (I mean you can feel offended but I mean please don't feel like I'm purposely trying to offend you) if your group is not mentioned (such as magic users) or if they are misinterpreted. It's a DR based from the past and from old mythology and lore. It isn't going to be the same as the present. We are also using old terms and meanings. It's also based from an anime too. ⚠️

⚠️I'll also be updating this from time to time if I find more information I want to place. So if you ever get bored, just head on back and see if anything is new! ⚠️

Click read more to see~

What is my reality based from?

Mine is heavily referenced from an anime called "The Ancient Magus Bride." The anime itself is beautiful, and based off of many legends and mythology and it somehow blends together beautifully.

My reality is going to be somewhere in the 1700's (but without slavery and a few wars) because I am sharing my DR with my online friends (and those I classify as my online "Family") and we decided we wanted to see how much history we could change.

So far, we have decided to save Marie Antoinette.

The reality itself has "fae" who don't like to be called "Fairies" and would rather be called "neighbors." They are friendly, in their own way, though some can be aggressive but we have decided that we are safe from those and won't fight them. But here's a catch - you can't see them unless you have "The Sight." Some people do have the sight such as mages (a rare form of magic user in our reality) or "Sleigh Beggy" otherwise known as "Slay Vega."

Slay Vega's have the ability to see and attract fae. As Wiki put it:

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Sleigh Beggies are a type of human who have a natural affinity towards the fae and other supernatural entities, drawing their kind towards them unintentionally. Because their bodies naturally absorb magic but they typically lack the means of controlling it, they die fairly young. This is why, despite the fact that there are more Sleigh Beggy than natural-born mages, their numbers are few and far between. Sleigh Beggy are highly prized by both other sorcerers and fae. The former because their organs naturally absorb magic and so they can be used as batteries for magic and the latter because they are naturally drawn to them as they view Sleigh Beggy as being closer to their kind. This often brings them misfortune as well, because the fae drawn to them will act against their wishes, more so for those who are not gifted with the Sight and cannot see the fae. The fae's goodwill does not always result in the happiness and, when left to their own interpretation, their love and loyalty manifests into both luck and ill fortune. Sleigh Beggy unconsciously absorb a lot of magical energy, but lack the means of expressing it unless they are trained in magic or other methods. As a Sleigh Beggy draws attention from Fae, they will have little difficulty becoming mages if they find a mentor to train them and be capable of powerful magic.

--------

I will be a Sleigh Vega/Beggy but I will also have immortality, so I won't be hurt by this magic absorption; because of this the fae will be attracted to me and I can help my s/o with his magic too.

Other than Sleigh Beggys, what are there?

Well there are many magic types. For my DR we have

Sleigh Beggy: The rarest of all the types, even to the point they are even unheard of. They have the abilities of both a mage and sorcerer. They passively absorb and exude magic energy. Almost unlimited. However, their bodies are still human and they will eventually have pain from the constant strain. Fae are attracted to this type but their friendship isn't always beneficial to Sleigh Beggies. A Sleigh Beggy without a mentor or teacher may feel cursed being around them as they can't understand the world around them or why the Fae behave as they do.

Mages: Are magic users who absorb magic and cast spells using it or they borrow magic from Fae. However, this is draining for the caster.

Sorcerers: They are different from other magic users. They turn their own energy into magic to perform sorcery. Unlike the Mages, they don't contort or use the Natural Laws by breaking them, instead they study these laws and manipulate said laws.

Witches: Are magical users similar to mages, but the difference is they dive into more forbidden arts and choose to gather in groups known as covens.

The History Of Magic:

In the new age of mankind, some humans could perform what we know as "miracles.' They could see beings known as fae. Or live fairly longer than others. As time went on, these people passed on techniques, knowledge, skills and shared with each other what is now known as "Magic." Those who could possess it were known as "Mages."

But as time went on, less and less humans were born with this ability and due to the "Great War" many magical users died. Ever since then, it was unusual, rare, and strange to find humans with this ability. Eventually, this was hidden from the world to ensure the safety of the magic users.

Overview Of Magic

Magic is a result of using the energy inside your body or using the energy of the world around you. This is a process that is referred to as "Magic" or a "Miracle." While magic users can use the worlds natural laws or the use of magical beings they can also use magic with chants or wands.

For some sorcerers, they have a magical core that can "act" as an internal organ which generates magical energy. It can pass on through generations genetically. Sometimes there are some born with non-magical parents.

Magic can be used in many ways. The results vary depending on the use such as shape, form, or requirements needed. It can be used for teleportation, purification, and giving life to inanimate objects. It can also be used for attacks like summoning spikes, thorns, using shadows or light, or breathing fire.

Magic can also be used by Artificers, like Angelica, who makes magic tools such as rings or wands.

What Are Fae?

Fae, or Neighbors, are a race of magical beings who can use, conjure, or absorb magic for themselves or other beings. They can be found everywhere around the world, but they are most commonly found in Tir Na nÓg which is ruled by Titiana and Oberon.

This silly couple:

There are many different types such as Ariels, Banshees, Church Grims, Brownies, Changelings, Elfs, Fire Sprites, Muryans, Selkies, and Vodyanoi!

Each fae is capable of something different and some are friendly, and some are aggressive. Similar to humans XD.

Random Things About My DR

➭ Even though it's set in the 1700s we have plumbing and pipes for baths, phones we can use to contact eachother and see media from Jean's reality (a very close friend of mine), and we plan to make some technology early. Because why not???

➭ We plan to mess up history a bit because we want to see how much we can change. And before you say "that's forcibly changing lives" technically no. It's not like the CR. Period. It's the 1700s where magic exists. We're not forcing a change in anyone's life. We're just going to mess with historical events that were bound to happen one way or another. #and they literally could've changed with or without us.

➭ There's a magic library where fae can exist alongside humans without any issue. No one can harm eachother within the library. It's also a rest good place to nap and it's really cozy.

➭ We live in a small cottage away from the village, it has a small pond and a garden. And just along the path in the back there's a forest. Keeping going down the path and you'll find a passage to Tir na nÓg.

➭ What's Tir na nÓg? It's an old legend of a place where you never age, that is, if you can get there. It's a place full of fae and where the king and queen of fae live. The plants never wither or die and it's always lively.

➭ My DR backstory is that I'm born as a king's daughter. I have a brother and a sister. That's all. Father and brother are Castelios which is a family that was given powers by the demons or fae from the Great War. They tend to scare everyone, due to their aura, except close family. Not even close friends are used to the aura. Though my sister and I didn't develop this, which is rare. I'll shift around the time I first meet my dad and brother after my mother left me and my sister with them. (No it won't be traumatizing, it's just my choice.) I'll grow up within the castle walls and learning magic from my brother and sword fighting from my sister. I'll eventually convince my dad to let me go outside the walls, to which he agrees, where I'll try to mess around with history a bit. On my 16th birthday I'll meet Elias Ainsworth in the greenhouse outside the walls when I snuck away at night. A huge chunk of years later I plan to already be a mage under his mentoring and be married by then, and the cottage is just our choice despite having an estate somewhere else. I only have until age 18 scripted so far but if you ask in like.... a week from now I might have something fjsbdjsnskssm

➭ There's a hunting event where any knight (male or female) can enter and so can royalty. A person from their familiy (or really anyone) can give them their handkerchief and whoever's handkerchief they had will recieve all that they hunted. It's a way to symbolize popularity, typically you'd want the biggest game or the most. For example if I have my s/o my handkerchief then whatever he hunted will go to me. Similarly if he gave me his then whatever I hunted will go to him. The more admired a person is, the more handkerchiefs a person has to give out and they have more game.

(If you're anti-hunting I am very sorry if this just offended you so please don't @me djeanjss please.)

➭ We have a room in the library that has many windows leading to different DRs. There's a wall full of keys that open the windows because the windows can't be broken or opened without a key, phew. When you look through each window it has a different scenery because each is a different DR. They are usually labeled and if you want to enter that reality you have to open the window and to right through. That's how Jean and I get to eachothers realities and also contact eachother. We decided to connect our DRs in a way.

My Desired Reality Members:

First, my DR husband!

Elias Ainsworth!

He is a mage who is both fae and human, though no one knows why he was this way and it was hinted that he was cursed. He also my mentor who will teach me magic.

Appearance

He's taller than most humans, reaching around 6'7". Because of the curse, he doesn't look human though will take a human form using magic. He likes to decorate his horns with gold string that holds a red cloth to cover his face.

A Mood board of him:

Personality

He's very kind and polite (to most) but he's... not antisocial but not social either. He has a hard time relating to people (big mood) but he's like that because he has no understanding of the emotions he feels nor does he remember anything of his life before. Because of this, he's extremely fascinated with emotions. He decided to adopt a "gentleman" mannerism to seem more friendly. He closely studies others but finds it a bit hard to follow their example. He doesn't tend to lie - but if he doesn't know you or knows you slightly then he leaves out any bit of information and tries to hide things. Once you get to know him, he's not so secretive and more child-like. But despite that, he's very willing to make up for, amend, and apologize for any childish behavior that was out of line.

Jeans comment on Elias: "Elias: nice, tall, protective and sweet from what I know, lowkey shy and is trying to understand humans and in the anime is learning emotions AND AJJSJDJSJD thats so SWEET, has lots of money-"

His Magic Abilities

He can manipulate the shadows and he leans toward destructive magic. He can hide in the shadows and create thorns. This gave him the name, given by the fae, "Child of Thorn" or simply "Thorn" as well as "Pilum Murialis." He can also shapeshift and remove memories.

Myself! Online, I go by a few names but in any DR it's Estelle.

Appearance

I'll have waist length black hair, styled in either a braid or simply let down. I have pale skin, blue eyes, and a small birthmark on my collarbones.

Mood board of myself:

Personality

I'll have the same as I do here but I felt really weird typing it out so I'm going to use how my friend described me!

Jeans opinion on Estelle: "Estelle - very soft and caring, maternal I’d say, great listener, really fun to talk to, shy and introverted but SJDJJDKFODOSOSOD when she comes out of her shell, has lots of nice memes, overall a good person to talk to about problems or just to have fun with and MEME, video game and reading nerd HAJDJDJSJKS, sympathetic and empathetic, smart, understanding"

Skills

Mental link: An ability shared with Ruth. We have a shared mind and memory.

Shapeshifting: I can shapeshift into a Pheonix which I'll mainly only use for fun.

Healing: I can heal, either by a chant or with the help of fae or tools

Light manipulation: I can manipulate light and use it against or for people

{Before I get onto the subject about my kids. Yes, I do know them in the CR. I have raised Adam and Asher despite us being close in age, I've always been the more "motherly" figure in my friends and relatives lives. (And I have recently became a mother figure for Nutmeg for about three years now.) I've organized the appointments, cook, cleaned, been there emotionally and so on. I am Asher and Adams aunt as well, so before you ask "Isn't that weird?" In my opinion, no. There are many people I've met who are the same and just straight up become the mother figure in someone's life. I am young, but I've been doing this job for years and a few comments aren't going to stop me from my job.}

Artificer: I have artificer abilities that I typically use to make a creature called a "Maker." They simply like making things. They're smart but really emotional and made from fabric similar to a doll. They like to swear masks and they basically look like a fabric version of a Korok.

Nutmeg

Nutmeg will be my daughter in the future. She is also a person from this reality who sees me as a mother figure and I see her as a daughter. So we agreed this is something we wanted to do. How it will work is she will try shift to the future of my DR after i've been married for a few years. (And before you say "That's not possible!" or "That won't work!" Let me make it clear I said "try." We are going to try this and we have a code to and we scripted that if this isn't possible, the other us wouldn't know the code.) Nutmeg is the youngest of all of my kids.

Appearance

Nutmeg has hazel eyes with a yellowish color and freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. She likes styling her brown and reddish hair into pig tails and she's typically seen in yellow.

Mood board of her:

Personality

She is very kind and doting, especially towards her siblings. She's not big into typical school but wants to go to the magic college for magic users. She likes baking and flower picking! She's very sweet towards fae and tries her best 100% of the time. A hugger and also someone who would bONK you if you upset her brothers or really anyone she cared about.

Jean's comment on Nutmeg: "Nutmeg - I’ve not talked to her much BUT SHES THE CUTEST WITTLE ANGEL BEAN, she’s super nice, worries/panics a lot for people from what I know, extremely caring, big gay and we love it (i once said to Estelle nutmeg can be a cottagecore lesbian and I just JSKSKSJDJDJ), loving towards y’all and it just makes me JSKDKDKDMDMMFJF"

Her skills

She has more celestial and healing magic that she got from my side. She can manipulate light, heal others, and manipulate the stars or use them as guides.

"Hey sweetie can you please not move that..."

Asher, Adam, and Her who secretly plotted to move the stars to prank astrologists with Jean's kids:

Adam

Another person who's shifting with us. He's the oldest of the siblings and he's a person I've actually raised in the CR from an early age.

Mood board of him:

Appearance

He has red eyes, taking after Elias and black hair that takes after me. He's the tallest of all the kids and typically has the more "mature" fashion by wanting to wear suits or formal attire.

Personality

He's typically the type to be stern and distant but once you know him he's more open and kind. He doesn't like people who judge and he's usually the type to do stuff he most certainly shouldn't jump into it. Adam to Asher in our Discord server: "Hey so LETS INVENT BOMBS."

Jean's comment on Adam: "Adam - smart, literally what the fuck, he’s really nice and a big home dog,,, literally like a big brother like I feel like he’ll be there when you need him, SMART DID I MENTION SMART, has an exterior shell but thats why you have to take things with him at a pace, super fcking sweet like with his stupid ex but god dammit that was sweet"

Skills

He can destroy things like Elias, summon fire, and can summon thorns. He can teleport and he has his artificer abilities that were taught by Angelica and I.

Asher

Asher is the middle child and also someone I've raised. Asher and Adam are related to me and each other in the CR as well.

Appearance

Asher has white hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. He likes the color blue and green so he typically uses it in any piece of clothing he owns. He mentioned he will wear blue more often to compliment his eyes and make his darker horns more apparent.

Mood board of him:

Personality

He's really sweet, caring, and attentive. You tell him once you like one small thing and he will remember it for years. He's really hyper and full of energy unlike his other siblings who are much more calm than him.

Jean's comment on Asher: "Asher - chaos, chaos, chaos okay anyway tbh really funny, has funny ass memes and random ass thoughts that are funny, loves affection, caring as well since I see how you care for nutmeg especially, loving and sweet, smart and retains random info like JFJDKEKDKDK-, space boy and religion boy, meme, sarcastic, 10/10 humor, energetic and extremely fun, someone you’d want at a small party with friends to hype everything up, loves kids and animals"

Skills

Asher can manipulate fire and electricity. He has super speed and super hearing, along with enhanced strength.

Silver Lady!

Also known as Silky or Silver! She was a former Banshee before being transformed by Spriggan (Titiana's bodyguard sort of speak.) She's our housekeeper.

Appearance

Silver likes to wear a, pink, Victorian dress with a matching shawl and bonnet. Her hair is blonde and short and her eyes are a shiny pink.

Mood board of her:

Personality

She doesn't chat much and often has a stoic or deadpan facial expression. But despite that, once knowing her you learn and are exposed to her emotions. She tends to dote on guests that she likes but will simply ignore those she doesn't trust. If someone she doesn't like enters the house for business, she will hover over me or the other residents and simply ignore the guest. Silver also has a sense of humor and enjoys playing pranks every now and then. She likes sewing hearts into clothes where we won't notice. Silver tends to only stay within the house or near the house, due to her past home being ruined she fears that if she leaves she will be forgotten or left behind.

Her Skills:

Silky/Silver is able to do housekeeping magic. She can change details of the house, including wallpaper or the floorboards using a simple spell.

Ruth, A Church Grim

Ruth is my familiar who can shapeshift between being a Church Grim and Human.

Appearance

Ruth can shapeshift between his two forms. A Church Grim, which is a large black dog which reaches to my rib cage in height. In this form, he has red eyes. In a human form however, his eyes appear brown or somewhat red. With he has light brownish skin and black hair. He likes to sweat striped shirts :D

Mood board of Ruth:

Personality

Ruth is very doting and diligent. He uses our mental link which causes a shared memory, feeling, and lifespan, to tell others how I'm feeling if I can't put it into words. He's also protective and won't hesitate to b0nK someone across the head. He's more of a big brother to those he's close with.

Skills

Familiar skills: He shares a lifespan with me, can share dreams, and be summoned from long distances through a mind link.

Shadow: He can hide in my shadow if needed.

Angelica Barley

Angelica is a mage and artificer. She owns her own magic shop that is hidden behind her book shop.

Appearance

Angelica has sharp features, and typically braids her hair up to show them off. She's commonly seen wearing sleeves when working because of the crystals that were embedded in her arms from an accident.

Mood board of her:

Personality

She's kind but stern. Typically, to new mages she acts as a distant mentor. She takes pride in her work but she's also cautious due to her accident. She's possibly one of the only people that can tell Elias off, and she won't hesitate to do it.

Skills

Angelica has the sight similar to that the mages possess. Just like mages, she can borrow magic from fae and she's quite knowledgeable about it too. As an artificer, she embeds magic within tools or makes them with the purpose of magic. She had a Vodanoi named Hugo who is bound to her, he's a prankster but sweet nonetheless. Hugo and Angelica have longevity. This means that they both have increased life spans and she hasn't aged much at all.

Lindel

Lindel is a mage and the current care taker of the Dragons. He was both Elias and Adolf's first master.

Appearance

Lindel is a human and despite being a thousand years old, he looks to be in his 20s. He has pale skin and blonde hair that be ties or braids that frame his face and blue eyes. He typically wears a hood and robe with odd designs on the hood and back piece.

Mood board of Lindel

Personality

Before he became a Mage and Keeper Of Dragons, he hated fae. The fae caused him many problems which caused him to isolate himself. But now, he is calm and playful and he takes pride in his job as the dragon keeper. Despite his usual demeanor, when it comes to the dragons he isn't so kind to poachers.

There are many other people I'll be getting to later such as my dad, my brother, my sister, my friend and her kids and s/o, other important people, etc. But for now I'm tired ainjsndjwsn