Liminal Shitposting

So you linger. 

Maybe you’re enjoying it way more than you should be, but you're committing every piece of this to memory. Every stolen second, every touch, every single heartbeat echoing inside your chest, marking the slow passage of time in this small piece of solace, in time with his steady breaths.

Despite knowing that this was all on borrowed time, it was still the best you’d felt in a long time. 

You’re not sure how much time you have left exactly; the room is still dark, the sky outside isn’t even orange with the impending sunrise yet. Judging by the deep even breathing, he seems to be asleep, and you don’t want to disturb him any earlier than you absolutely had to, so you stay still. Drink in this moment the best you can.

You’re not sure why that made such a big difference, but it did.

The fact that this, here, was deliberate, on purpose, solid, only added a layer or something sweet. This wasn’t just a convenient sharing of space or accidental closeness, this was on purpose. There was nothing hesitant in the way he held you.

Even if this could never see daylight, you still knew it was real. 

You had been easily pleased, before. As long as you were safe, and fed, had a place to sleep in and enough money to go by, you were happy. That was all you needed in life, right? Everything else was just extra. Everything else you could manage without. Sure, knowing people and having friends made things easier, but you never really needed other people, not just for their company. 

But that felt like a lie now.

Now, you had gotten a glimpse of this selfish indulgence, this unnecessary joy, and you didn’t want to let go.

You wanted to stay in this moment, and relish it. You wanted him to be there, and even if you didn’t technically need that to survive, you wanted it. You were greedy now; you wanted to wake up like this, again and again and again. You wanted to fall asleep like this and wake up like this and never give it up. Now that you knew what this was like, you didn’t want to let it go.

It was a desperate thought, and a selfish one. 

A dangerous one.

But you were selfish, and desperate, and in your not-quite-awake state, you didn’t really even care about the danger part.

You wanted more of him. More than just these stolen moments. More than just these shadows. And you didn’t just want that for yourself – you wanted him to be able to have that. 

And you knew you couldn’t have that. 

Unfortunately that didn’t make you want it any less.

It only made you want to rip apart anything that had put these systems in place. To burn it at the root, and start again from the ashes. 

The simmering burn of anger and injustice leaves your lungs feeling too small and your muscles feeling too weak. You wanted to tear apart everything that was controlling him, and you wanted to cling into every second of what little you could get. You wanted both. You knew you couldn’t get both. Either way, you knew this would end in some sort of heartache. 

And it made your heart burn. 

But for now, there’s nothing you can do about that. The sun isn’t up yet, and for now, you at least have these stolen seconds.

So you keep your eyes closed and you press yourself closer to him, and you let yourself drift back to sleep. Just to stay in this haze for a little longer. 

It’s better than facing reality just yet. 

When you wake up again, properly, you flinch awake.

Viktor doesn’t; he more so seeps back into reality, slowly, with a deep sigh and a hand running over his face.

Reality hits you in the face like a brick when you realize what’s going on.

One; you’re still in his room.

Two; you’re not alone. 

“What are you doing?” Jayce asks from the door, and you guess you’re relieved that it’s him and not someone else, someone worse, but the situation still doesn’t make you feel great. 

You sit up, the panic clinging to your skin like static.

Viktor sighs again, and sits up too, pushing his hair out of his face. “Good morning to you too.”

Jayce just stares at him, and then at you, makes a wild hand gesture towards the bed and a weird noise that might be trying to be a word, or not. You’re not sure. 

“Oh. This is–” Viktor starts, as if formal introductions are a totally normal thing to do in a situation like this. 

“I know who that is.” Jayce interrupts him in a sort of whisper-yell, cautiously stepping closer to the bed. “Hi.” He quickly, and a bit awkwardly, nods at you, and then focuses on Viktor again. “What I don’t know is why you two are in bed together.”

“I’m sure you can figure it out.” Viktor tells him, “What are you doing here?”

Jayce shifts his weight and sighs so deeply that it looks like he deflates a bit. 

“I’m here to tell you that your schedule for today got pushed up,” He says, “you have a final fitting for the costume at ten.”

Viktor shifts a bit in his place. “Well, that’s pointless. It’s not like I’ve changed considerably since the last one.”

“I know,” Jayce answers, like this is a familiar argument. “I tried to get you out of it. But you know what they’re like.”

Viktor sighs again, and runs a hand over his face. “Fine,” He answers quietly, “I’ll be there.”

Jayce nods, and then glances at you again. An awkward silence hangs over your head, heavy and thick.

“So…” Jayce says, and it does absolutely nothing to make the situation any less awkward.

You sigh, and lean your head into your hand tiredly, and for the first time this morning, properly look at Viktor. “So I take it you didn’t tell him?” 

“...Not yet, no. I was going to.” He answers, leaning back against the bed frame.

The room is silent for exactly one heartbeat, before Jayce breaks the silence again.

“Tell him what?” He asks, putting weight on every word.

Viktor sighs, deeply, running a hand over his face again, and making a wide hand gesture over the room. “Take a seat. It’s a long story.”

Before he starts explaining, he makes note of the time; the guards change shifts on even hours, and you should sneak back out before it gets too complicated. It was still early, most people must still be asleep, apparently Jayce was just a freak of nature. He tells you this quietly, in a hushed voice, leaning closer. You’re not quite sure if he means for Jayce to hear the part about being a freak of nature, but it definitely is the part that he says the loudest. 

“You’ve got some time.” He then adds, “Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll explain things, he will understand.”

You nod slowly, and try your best to calm your nerves. “Do you want me to stay?” You answer, equally quietly.

It’s a simple question, but it feels like more than that.

“Of course I do.” 

His answer feels like more than it is, too. 

You nod again, and turn your attention back to Jayce. Viktor does the same, waiting for him to sit down as instructed.

Viktor does most of the talking. And Jayce listens, nodding occasionally, or furrowing his brows at some parts, or opening his mouth as if to ask something and then closing it again. Viktor tells him about the spying, and the guards, and the drugs, and about how you were helping him, and everything. 

He takes it well, after he gets over the initial shock. He honestly seems more outraged about the guards than he was about your involvement, and you’re thankful for that. He instantly comes to some of the conclusions that Viktor had made; that it has to run deeper than what you were seeing, that some other people had to be in on it, and that you were going to do your best to stop it. 

“I wanted to tell you.” Viktor adds, after he’s gotten all of the important details out. “It just…felt safer not to tell anyone.” He glances at you. 

There’s a lot laced between the words of that small sentence, and each one of you knew it. It was safer not to tell anyone – because this was dangerous, and anyone who knew would put you at risk. Viktor, too, of course, but more so you, if we’re being honest. And, sure, Viktor trusted him, but…there was still something about this that made it feel like it was best kept secret. 

Jayce just nods, and doesn’t take that further. He knows.

“So what are we going to do?” He asks instead, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms over his chest. 

“I’ve thought about that.” Viktor answers, “And before we do anything, I think we need more information. About who’s in on it. Who we can trust.”

“Heimerdinger?”

“Not until we know what we’re dealing with.” Viktor brushes off the suggestion, “I don’t think he knows anything.”

Jayce leans forward, nodding again. “So we need to snoop. Spy on people. Without them knowing. Be discreet.” 

“Yes.”

“Right." Jayce nods slowly, "How do we do that?”

They look at each other, and for several seconds, a heavy silence hangs in the air.

 Viktor tilts his head slightly and glances at you.

"No," Jayce interrupts him before he can even get a word out. 

He says it the same way you would tell a dog to not eat some trash they found on the ground, when everyone involved knows the dog is absolutely going to eat that delicious piece of trash immediately after.

They keep eye contact for a few more seconds.

"You said we need to be discreet."

"That was not what I meant!" 

"But it would solve our problem." Viktor points out, and Jayce sighs, running a hand over his face.

"Or it would create many more. No, it’s too risky."

“Is it?” Viktor prompts, “Think about it. Everyone will be wearing masks. It would give us a good vantage point.”

You just follow the conversation from the sideline, trying to figure out what they were talking about. There seemed to be a common thread that they were both following, but you just couldn’t see it. 

They look at each other silently for a moment. 

“People will be drunk.” Viktor adds. “Loose lips, and all that.”

Jayce sighs quietly. Runs a hand over his face. “Are you sure you’re not just suggesting this because you’re bored?”

“Of course not.” 

Jayce sighs again. “Alright,” He says slowly, “But I’m not really the one you need to convince, am I?”

The following silence makes it clear that they’re talking about you in some capacity, but you still haven’t quite managed to piece together why. 

You blink in surprise, and then furrow your brows. “What?”

And then Viktor turns to look at you.

"How do you feel about going to a party?"

“A party.” He repeats. “There’s one coming up. Masquerade. Everyone will be in costumes. We could sneak you in.” He explains, and then gestures to himself and Jayce. “We will be too recognizable, but you…” He shrugs, “People won’t know you. You could–” He pauses, making a vaguely circular hand motion in the air, “Spy on people.”

You just look at him for a moment, taking it all in. 

"Cool plan, but I don't think I have the clothes for one of your parties." You point out. You'd never been to one, but you’d seen them happen; extravagant dresses and glittering suits, hairdos that took hours to make and nearly as much to undo in the morning. People sleeping in, seeking quiet cures for their hangovers the next day. Waking up in beds that weren’t their own and sneaking around come sunrise, shoes in hand and makeup smeared halfway off their faces. 

Viktor nods, and then turns to look at Jayce. 

"No," He says again, before Viktor can even ask, "don’t rope her into this." 

There’s a warning edge in his voice, but it sounds a bit hollow. Like it’s there mainly for appearances, and he knows it doesn’t hold much weight.

"Isn’t this right up her alley?" Viktor asks, "Secrets, politics, fancy clothes?" He lists, counting off the things with his fingers.

Jayce makes a face that’s caught somewhere between sighing, groaning, and rolling his eyes. 

"Don't tell me she wouldn’t have a field day turning a servant into-" Viktor adds, making a vague hand gesture in the air, "I don’t know, some foreign diplomat? Correspondent? Distant relative of someone important?" He lists, then looks at you again, thinking for a moment. He looks you over, slowly. "Do you think–"

"Yes," Jayce answers, "I mean no. No, that’s too risky." He takes a deep breath, "Would draw too much attention. Everyone knows the candidates, we can't just add one."

"It would be the most realistic role to take."

"Right, and your opinion on that is totally not biased at all." Jayce points out, raising his eyebrows. 

Then, he sighs, and takes a moment to think. "If we're going with something, it should be as uninteresting as possible." He says, "Someone's relative. No real title, no expert status. Nothing that would catch anyone's attention. And nothing too close to you."

"Why not?"

"Jealousy. It’s dangerous." Jayce explains, and Viktor groans quietly.

"Everyone knows the candidates. Jayce repeats, "They watch each other like hawks. We have people on guard to make sure they don’t try to poison each other. We can not meddle with that."

"I'm sorry." You jump in, your patience running out. "Candidates for what?"

They look at each other again, silent for several long seconds.

"You gonna say it or should I?" Jayce says, his voice somehow much gentle now. Softer. 

Viktor sighs. Looks at you, silently, for a moment. He looks away again before speaking, and when he does, he sounds tired.

"Marriage."

You blink, surprised.

Or you weren’t surprised, not really. It made sense. You knew that, realistically. 

But it still somehow comes as a shock.

The realization settles to the bottom of your stomach like a stone, heavy and solid and wrong. 

He was going to have to get married, and odds were he wasn’t going to have any say in who it was to. 

And he doesn’t even sound angry about it. Tired, yes, and resigned, but not angry. Because it’s not like he has a choice. 

It makes you want to scream. 

Before you can properly react, they continue the conversation. 

“Someone’s cousin, then?” Viktor suggests, with a defeated edge over his voice now. 

“I think that would be best.” Jayce nods, but he sounds a bit apologetic about it too.

Viktor nods back.

"You'll talk to Mel?"