#started writing

The night you walked into his tavern, the world seemed to change it's hue. The moment he first saw you, it was like you'd pulled all of the air out of his lungs. You were...so beautiful. Just your features alone moved him in a way no other person had. His eyes followed your movement throughout the room as you mosied around to chat with your aquaintances and friends. An aura of soft, comforting light eminated from you, brightening the atmosphere of the room just by your presence in it.

You were glowing. So much so that he felt like he had to avert his gaze to keep his eyes from burning...but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pry them from you.

For once, he was the one afraid of drawing the attention of another person.

But there you were, propped up on his counter by your forearms, beaming at him like his own personal sun.

"Good evening! Could I get a Death After Noon, please?"

Of course your voice had to ring like the purest silver bell. It sent shivers up his spine. He was truly beginning to wonder if you were an angel...

...to the point that he was so lost in thought he forgot to respond, and he was staring.

It didn't help that his resting gaze was a foreboding grimace.

"...would that be alright?", you asked, confused. Did you offend him?

He came to, giving his head a quick shake and clearing his throat.

"...certainly." was all he could state, quickly turning his attention to fixing your drink.

Diluc had a strict rule against accepting orders for Death After Noons. Whenever a guest would request it, he would authoritatively refuse. The cocktail was Kaeya's favorite drink, so Diluc had banned it from his tavern as a way of deterring his drunkard brother. If Kaeya wanted his treasured liquor, he would just have to bug Diona for it instead...and Diluc felt more secure having Kaeya at her tavern to look after her. But he would never admit to that.

The fact that Diluc had shown not even a moment of reservation at your request had heads turning.

In a blink of an eye, Diluc sat your cocktail in front of you in the prettiest glass he had. Although he hadn't made this drink in who knows how long, he was careful not to let it slip below perfect standards; even though you were only a stranger, he was...desparate for you to like what he made for you.

He expected you to take it and leave like the other patrons did, as no one but a blacked out Venti felt comfortable in the close proximity to him, but you slipped right onto the barstool in front of him and scooted yourself up to sip the drink.

The pleased hum that left your throat had Diluc awash with pride.

You were a treasure.

"So this is your tavern?"

...was that addressed to him? He wasn't sure if he had just hallucinated or not. Did you...want to talk to him?

"...hello?"

With another jolt of recognition, he snapped back to reality. You really were trying to talk to him.

"Sorry, yes. I own the place."

"You must be Diluc then! Kaeya's told me a lot about you."

"Oh, has he."

Fuck.

He could not mask the distaste in his tone, having nearly growled the statement before he could catch himself. If his odd response time and tense physicality hadn't already deterred you, his intimidating attitude was sure to. He braced for your discomfort.

"So you really don't like him!" you giggled, taking another gleeful sip of your drink. "That's alright. Hating your family members comes and goes."

Every statement you made had him reeling. You fell right into step with him despite his awkward pace--everything about him that had even his close aquaintences in a cautious state of mind flew right over your head. You looked right past his guarded demeanor and spoke to him, not his personage.

"...I suppose it does.", he agreed; it was hard not to see your point when your voice was so charming.

The way your twinkling eyes held his softened his gaze--your joyful character brought the faintest upturn to his lips. The cheer in his typically cold expression had the drunkards of the tavern pouring their drinks out--cutting themselves off for the night because the liquor must have them seeing things. Diluc Ragindvr can't smile.

"What's your favorite drink?", you asked, not wanting your conversation to die out. You just had a natural affinity for him; his elusive and restrained character made you want to learn more, and despite his first impressions, he seemed like a nice guy!

As he answered that he doesn't drink and your conversation continued on, he tried to compose the bashfulness your attention caused him, busying himself so he wouldn't have to look you into your gorgeous doe eyes. Their existence alone threatened to send him into cardiac arrest. He was white knuckling his countenance, battling with his body to keep a blush from staining his cheeks every time his gaze met yours.

You were a chatty one, jumping from meaningless topic to meaningless topic with a tell me about this, tell me about that, how do you feel about this?, what do you think about that?

Diluc loathed small talk. Not only did aimless chatter annoy him, he also just wasn't good at making conversation that wasn't straight to the point. He had trouble with bluntness, and had to think about his responses thoroughly before he stated them--it was exhausting to converse properly, so he didn't like to waste energy doing it with no purpose.

...but somehow, it wasn't as hard with you. There was no limit to your understanding, so he felt safe getting tongue-tied or making conversational mistakes. You didn't seem to mind at all, which kept him talking, and if a chat with him would entertain you, he would gladly participate.

You stayed all the way until closing, never leaving the best seat in the house. Even when he had to attend to other customers, breaking the flow of your conversation, you'd wait patiently for his attenion again. You were such a sweetheart, he couldn't imagine what he did to earn your interest, but he was completely, hopelessly stirred by you.

When you tried to pay your tab, he was almost offended, closing your fist before you could set your mora down--an action that sent the palm of his hand that connected with your soft skin ablaze.

"Our discussion was payment enough."

Your smile gripped his heart like a vice, your adorable "thank you" ringing in his ears even after you'd turned and left.

"Eye talg to you all tha time an you don pay my tab?", slurred the drunken bard who had made the dark corner of the bar counter his permanent residence.

"Go home, Venti."

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

From then on, you and Diluc had become budding friends! Your visits to his tavern were always appreciated; you held his willing attenion for as long as you'd stay, and the more you learned about one another, the more your fondness grew.

You two had even started meeting outside of the tavern, taking walks together or sharing lunch--and when you'd need to leave the safety of the nation's gates to run an errand, he'd insist on accompanying you, no matter how busy his work day was.

Soon, the goo-goo eyes you gave each other that the tavern patrons momentarily mistook for the brink of alcohol poisioning became the gossip of Mondstadt. There was not a civillian of the nation that didn't have an interest in the wine tycoon, meaning any crumb about his rumored love life was devoured gluttonously. After the hearsay reached her ears, Donna dissapeared for a week. Now, the flowers in her shop get a little extra water every time you walk by...because she sobs into the pots.

The only person in the entirety of Mondstadt that hadn't been made aware of Diluc's obvious crush was you.

You were too wrapped up in your own feelings for him to notice his hints slapping you across the face.

The way he'd offer to help you out with difficult tasks or get you something that you want, or even go as far as to give you little gifts that he'd come by with you in mind, all went right over your head. Sure, they'd have your heart fluttering, but you were afraid to assume his intentions, mistaking his favor for you as just courteous friendship.

You'd developed quite a collection of his affections: a small bundle of lavender he'd cut for you on his walk into town--that you'd dried and kept as a decoration in your room, a special glass he'd reserved for exclusively your drinks at his tavern, even falcon privilages.

If you needed to send a message to him, it'd be expedited by his dutiful bird. How his falcon always happened to be around when you needed to send word to Diluc, you hadn't a clue...unknowing that he had charged it with looking after you in his stead. He needed to be sure that if you were ever in danger, he'd be alerted immediately; the thought of you being defenseless in the face of peril had him clenching his jaw in anxiety--you were just too perfect to be left vulnerable to the darkness of this world.

Though his heart would sieze with panic every time he had an incoming message from you, assuming you were in desparate need of his help, he couldn't stay mad about the mini heart attack you gave him when the non-emergency message you sent was a sweet invite to yours for tea or a funny thought that had come to your mind.

He kept every single letter.

At a certain point, the sparse, light touches and amorous looks between you two became increasingly indicative of your shared feelings.

After the last time you hosted him for tea, and that moment where you two were saying goodbye at your open front door...standing just close enough to feel one another's breath on your lips...both of you hesitating just long enough for the other one to lean in for a kiss...before he politely cleared his throat and took his leave...

...that had you sleepless, tossing and turning with butterflies, all night.

You were dying for him to make a move on you.

...but that was a challenge for Diluc.

He was respectful to a debilitating degree--the last thing he'd want is to make you uncomfortable if his affection for you is not reciprocated. He'd hate if any mistake of his were to weaken your close relationship.

He didn't have what you two had with anyone else--he cherished your connection. If it was scuttled by his doing, the grief he'd feel would be immense.

And beyond that, he's never been skilled at expressing his emotions. At a certain point, intentionally having your guard up leads to an inability to let anything come out. Every time he's tried to tell you how beautiful you look, how dear to him you are, the words just get jumbled up and can't escape his throat. He always ends up saying something like, "this day has been a nice one.", or, "I appreciate your time.".

He doesn't know that those statements settle in your heart and make their home there. That you don't forget them.

After that moment you shared at your front door, where he had to mentally restrain the animalistic urge to just pull you in for a kiss then and there, he decided he could no longer let his adoration for you go unsaid.

Truly, he knew he had a responsibility to say something for fear that if he didn't, and you continued to see him, he'd eventually lose that mental struggle and throw aside his composure as a gentleman in lieu of satisfying the need to touch you, to have you.

It had become an unbearable craving.

The night he confessed, you'd entered Angel's share at your scheduled time--the hour of night where there's typically a lull in activity at the tavern, when everyone has drank just enough to need to slow down and you can have Diluc's undivided attention.

When you rolled into the seat that practically had your name on it at this point, he'd already had a drink waiting for you in the signature glass he'd gotten for you--modeled after a small lamp grass flower with a blue hue.

From the look of it, you didn't recognize the cocktail he'd made for you, and after taking a sip, you realized it was nothing you'd tasted before; it was sweet like honey and had a sour sting to it with floral notes, and the typical sharp taste of alcohol was well disguised, making it slip down your throat pleasantly.

Your happy hum after tasting a cocktail he'd made for you never failed to fill Diluc with satisfaction.

"Is this a new recipe?"

He nodded once.

"What's in it? It's divine.", you sigh, trying your best to keep from downing it too quickly.

"Mead, honeysuckle, lemon juice, gin...", an influx of nerves ran up from his stomach to his heart, but he refused to cower, "...and all my love for you.".

Your attention snapped from the golden drink to his face, surprise turning your cheeks pink and making your eyes go wide. Your gaze met his, which had been intensely focused on you since you'd walked in. You now found him leaning over you, face just above yours as he supported himself with his large hands on either side of where you sat---less of caging you in, and more of framing you, like a beautiful piece of artwork he stayed to admire.

"...I've given it your name."

This felt like a dream.

He'd formulated a cocktail with you in mind, using a god-given honey wine and the sweetest flower in existance, designing an original, saccharine flavor full of warmth and life...full of his deepest adoration...and gave it your name.

He gave it your name.

"...may I kiss you?", he breathed, a quiet desparation in his voice.

Not a moment after your speechless, timid nod, his restraint snapped and he closed the short distance between you two, finally claiming your lips as his own.

And, just like he imagined,

you were sweet.

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Amelia shrugged as she continued putting away Scout's clothes. "What would you do if I told you, I murdered someone?" She turned around after putting the last baby grow away, hands slipped into the back pocket of her jeans.

She couldn't help but smile at the sight in front of her. Her boyfriend cradling their baby. In a million universes, Amelia hadn't imagined that this would ever be her reality. She was painfully aware that it could all slip away, had voiced those fears to Richard a few weeks after Scout had been born but he had helped her work through that. Whilst she was pretty sure that fear would never completely leave her, Amelia was learning to appreciate the good things in the moment. To stop thinking too far ahead or of the worst-case scenario. Just to live and appreciate the millions of little moments that made up a day.

"Should I be worried that you're smiling when you ask me about murder?" Link arched a brow before bouncing a very fussy Scout.

"You're not answering my question."

"Is it hypothetical?"

"Does that matter?" Amelia feigned hurt, "You're my boyfriend. The father of my child. Hypothetical or not you should be supporting me here!"

Link was fairly sure at this point that he had to be having a fever dream. Sensing his confusion and slight frustration at not being able to calm down Scout, Amelia gently took her son. Pacing around his nursery, Amelia kissed his cheek and rubbed his back in soothing circles.

"Shhh, there you are, my little prince. I know, you love mommy way more than daddy, that's why you listen to me." Amelia's quiet cooing was still heard by Link who just shook his head smiling. He had been in awe of Amelia since she'd given birth. Whilst they both struggled at the start and we're still wading through the murky waters of parenthood, Amelia was always in tune with Scout and each of his needs. A perk of having carried him for nine months he guessed.

Scout eventually stopped fussing long enough to drift off to sleep and Amelia placed one last kiss on his forehead before setting him in his crib. Link already had the baby monitor ready and was waiting by the door for her.

The minute Amelia entered their room, she flopped back onto the bed, legs dangling off the end and hair splayed around her. She huffed out a breath of her, shutting her eyes tight.

"You want to tell me what that question was about. then?" Link laid beside her, turning his head so he could see her face.

Amelia opened one eye and turned onto her side, "You have to answer my question first."

"Hmm..."

"Hey!" Amelia gave him a slight nudge, “You shouldn't have to think about this!"

"Well, it depends. Have you hidden the body yet?"

Amelia paused for a moment to think, "Not yet..."

"In that case, I'd help you get rid of it, make sure we leave no trace and then bring you back home and make dinner."

Amelia grinned at Link. It was moments like these that she was reminded of all the reasons she had fallen in love with Link. It was moments like these that she fell for him even more.

"Perfect!" She leaned over to kiss him.

"Are you going to tell me why you needed to ask?"

Sighing, Amelia felt her mood dip slightly as she remembered the reason. "I was meant to be home two hours ago."

Sensing this was a lot deeper than he initially thought, Link sat up, pulling Amelia up with him. "I know but you text me about that and it wasn't a problem. I was already home with Scout."

"That's the problem though. I was meant to be home two hours ago, and I was going to spend some time with you and Scout. And not just a couple of minutes before he went down to sleep. This dumb intern just had to screw up not one, but three patients' labs. Three!" She ran her hands through her hair, almost anting to pull it all out.

"I could have been home with my soon two hours earlier if I had a competent intern!"

Link nodded slowly, "Right and you killed the intern?"

"No, I didn't kill the intern! I wanted to kill the intern!"

Knowing that Amelia was just going to continue working herself up, Link wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back to his chest and pressed a kiss to her head. He could feel her body eventually relaxing against his.

Amelia finally broke the silence. "I'm a terrible mother."

"What? Amelia-"

"No, Link. I'm a terrible mother. I had to get out of the house before Scout was even awake today and by the time I get home he's falling asleep. I'm an awful mother and he probably barely knows me."

"Amelia Shepard," Link let go of her and slowly turned her to face him. "You are a wonderful mother, surgeon, girlfriend, sister, friend. The list goes on. And of course, Scout knows you. You're the one that managed to get him to sleep today and every other day. You're the one he always reached out for. Amelia, you're an amazing neurosurgeon and being a mom now, that doesn't mean that your career has to go on the back burner. There are going to be days where you can't be home early and the same goes for me. That doesn't make us bad parents because our son has a whole village there for him when we aren't. He's going to grow up knowing exactly what a strong, loving and intelligent woman looks like because he's going to have you."

Amelia wiped away the tears that had begun to fall, "I love you, Atticus Lincoln."

Not as if any tips would have helped in those first moments, when he had openly stared at quite possible the single most drop dead gorgeous man he had ever seen. He was distantly aware that the absolute dreamy apparition from the heavens was talking to him in that silky rich voice that made Remus’ knees weak (luckily he was sitting down). Not a single word registered. Remus was just a tad distracted, thank you very much. Honestly, did this guy know how pretty his face was?? This had to be illegal somewhere.

Deceit stopped talking and frowned. Not an unusual thing to happen, people frowned at him all the time. What was unusual was that Deceit leaned forward a bit and gently gripped Remus’ chin with one hand. Remus’ thoughts, usually an unstoppable whirlwind of continuous screaming abruptly came to a screeching halt. Deceit inspected his eyes, slightly tilting Remus’ head from left to right as he did. Remus followed his guiding hand breathlessly, gawking at how Deceit’s scales glittered in the light of the setting sun. He wanted to draw them... Or maybe lick them. Both? Both is good.

“…I definitely used a too potent of a sleeping spell on you,” Deceit sighed as he released his chin. Remus wanted to whine at the loss of contact. “Luckily, that’s just a matter of sleeping it off.” Deceit continued as he rose from the cot and looked down at Remus. “Can you walk?” He asked.

Remus shot up from the cot so fast that he probably sprained something. Fucking hell, if this guy had asked if he could fly he would have immediately jumped out of the window without a doubt. Deceit raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Instead he walked towards the door, throwing a ‘follow me’ motion over his shoulder. Remus nearly tripped over his own feet as he scrambled to catch up.

Deceit led him out of the door into darkened halls. He snapped his fingers and a small flame appeared in his hand, lighting their path.

The walk was a quiet one. Their footsteps rung in the empty darkness as Remus trailed after the other, wide-eyed and dazed. Remus realized at one point that he had to be in the hidden castle. The one from all the stories, the hideout of one of the most dreaded figures in their country’s history. He had found it… Or rather, he was brought to it. The place everyone feared so much that they avoided the mountains all together.

But who fucking cared about that nonsense?? Certainly not Remus! All he could focus on was the back of the warlock’s head and those beautiful fluffy curls. His fingers were itching and twitching to run through those curls, to see if they really were as soft as they looked like. In fact, his hand already stretched out-

“Here we are,” Deceit interrupted Remus’ musings and he quickly snapped his hand back. They had reached a door in the time where Remus was slowly loosing his mind. Deceit opened and held the door open for him. “These will be your chambers for the duration of your stay.” He said.

Remus stared dumbly at him. “My chambers…?” He repeated a little dumbfounded.

“Yes.” Deceit nodded. Remus looked between the warlock and the open door uncertainly.

“…You’re not going to… Throw me into a dungeon…?” Remus asked dubiously. Deceit tilted his head.

“Why? Would you prefer that?”

…Was he messing with him? Remus honestly couldn’t tell. The warlock’s expression was impossible to read; it was quite an impressive poker face he got there. Realizing he had no hope of forming a somewhat intelligent answer to that, Remus looked away from those mismatched (absolutely alluring, could stare in them for hours) eyes and walked into the room.

He hadn’t been sure what to expect… No, that was lie. Remus knew exactly what he had expected. A torture chamber perhaps, maybe with some various jars with preserved limbs. Or a completely barren cell with one tiny barred window, where he had no choice but to eat his own leg to survive. Not this. Not a perfectly welcoming warm bedchamber, that looked like it was carved into the mountainside rather than built with bricks. A fireplace crackled softly on one side of the room and a comfortable looking poster-bed stood on the other. Large windows showed the peaks of the mountains outside, now black outlines against a quick darkening sky. The view had to be beautiful in daytime. On a small desk near the windows stood a tray with a glass, an elegant carafe filled with crystal clear water and a plate of several assortments of fresh fruit and bread.

Completely baffled Remus stared at the room. He may not have much experience with these types of things, but this is not exactly what he thought a hostage situation would be like.

…Unless he was in one of those steamy romance novels Roman hid underneath his bed and pretended he didn’t read. Oh man, he really, really hoped that was the case.

“You’ll find a bathroom with everything you need through the door on your right,” Deceit said behind him. “Get some more sleep. We’ll talk again in the morning.”

Remus, who had been wholeheartedly distracted, whipped around when he heard the door close. His throat closed up. Ice gripped his veins as he rushed to the door, ready to pound on it, scream-

No no no don’t lock the door don’t lock him up please-!!

One twist on the doorknob and the door flew open, letting Remus tumble out the room in a flurry of unbalanced limbs. He barely avoided tipping over and acquainting his face with the stone floor. He hadn’t… Locked the door?

Perplexed Remus righted himself, staring down the dark empty hallway that greeted him. The warlock was nowhere in sight. What the shit? How did he do that so fast? Was it another one of those disappearing reappearing acts? Or had he turned invisible? Was he staring at Remus right now? Judging him?

Suddenly shockingly aware that he hadn’t shaved (or bathed for that matter) since he left home, Remus quickly retreated back into the chambers that were his now? Apparently?? And threw the door closed with a bang. He leaned against the wood like hell itself was high on his heels. Judging by the way his heart hammered a mile a minute, he would say it was.

Stumbling unsteadily towards the desk near the windows, Remus grabbed the carafe with water and downed half of it in one go. No time to bother with the glass! He was thirsty in more ways than one, and at least this thirst was easily quenchable.  

After he had devoured most of the fruit and bread and threw some of the left over water over his head for good measure, Remus felt a bit better. For a few seconds he could even say he was calm… But then he glanced around the room again and remembered his bizarre situation. Flashes of scales and fangs and a voice like velvet rang through his head, and Remus had to muffle a scream into his hands.

Get some more sleep, Deceit had said. But Remus wasn’t tired in the slightest. He just had the longest nap in the history of ever! He felt like he could stay awake until the sun exploded and burnt the world to a crisp little pebble. That’s why he found himself still agitatedly pacing the floor hours later, when the sky outside had turned to a deep pitch black. Remus was pretty sure that he was pacing a hole into the soft rug underneath his feet, but he couldn’t sit still even if he tried.

“Okay. Okay okay okay okay,” Remus muttered. “I’m stuck, in a hidden castle, with quite possibly the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my entire fucking life, no one knows where I am, what the HELL am I going to do???”

It was twelfth time that night that he had started this very conversation with himself, and his brain still hadn’t progressed any further than ‘roll over and play dead’, which was not helping!

“Come oooooooon!!” Remus groaned as he dragged his hands down his face. “I have to do something!”

Nope! No you don’t! You don’t have to do jack shit!

“But have you looked at him??? I would hate myself forever if I don’t at least try to tap that!”

You don’t even know why he keeps you here! For all you know he just wants to use you!

“Fuck, I hope so-!”

Not the fun kind of use, you idiot!

“Oh…” Remus slumped in disappointment.

Look, I know it’s hard-

Remus snorted. “Heheh. Hard.”

FOCUS. You heard the stories! He wants to take over the kingdom! And you’re part of the royal family! He probably just sees you as his stepping stool to the throne!

“Honestly, he could step on me anytime-”

NOT THE POINT. The point is that you’re his enemy… He might be nice to you now, but who’s to say that that will last?

That gave Remus pause. That was unfortunately a good point to consider…

“I guess,” He pondered. “That I’ll have to give him a good reason not to kill me?”

Oh yeah, and how are you gonna do that, genius?

Stopping his pacing on the rug, Remus bit his thumbnail as his mind raced. Good question. How could he get in Deceit’s good graces, so the warlock wouldn’t get rid of him the second he was no use anymore?

…Remus only had to think about that for a few seconds. The answer was pretty obvious.

“Okay, so he might want to use me to for “taking over the kingdom” purposes!” He mused out loud. “But if I, hypothetically,” Remus paused for a second, forcing the next words to fall from his mouth with a tremor. “…Were to willingly help him with that…”

…That would be treason.

“It would be.” Remus agreed. Treason of the highest order. But…

He glanced toward the window. The night made it look like a black hole, or the gaping jaw of a monster ready to devour him. He didn’t know if he could have seen his home from this window in daytime, but it was still out there. Waiting for him to return. So why did that thought make his stomach twist and hurt instead of comfort him?

…What did he owe those fuckers in the castle anyway?

Not much, if he was going to be honest. He had clung on to the fantasy that if he only could have his heroic moment, the world and his family would finally see the errors of their ways and everything would be perfect at last. After that forced little game of truth and dare last night however? That childish lie, which he had held onto with all the desperation of a drowning man, had shattered. Nothing was waiting for him back down the mountain. Fuck, he certainly wouldn’t do it for the happy memories…

“Failure.”

“Disappointment.”

“Why did I even get a brother?”

Remus closed his eyes. Inhaled.

“…I will help the warlock take over the kingdom,” He breathed out. “Fuck them.”

He clenched his hands into fists to suppress the full body shiver that overtook him. There was a small, terrified little part of him screaming not to do this. Mom and dad would be furious. Even more than they had ever been. If they found out that he was involved in this…

“LET ME OUT!! PLEASE I’M SORRY I’LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN I WON’T SPEAK I WON’T THINK I’M SORRY I’M SORRY JUST LET ME OUT PLEASE!!!”

Remus shook his head to rid himself of the memory of trapped stuck why was no one coming please anyone home.

“I’ll just make sure they never know it was me that helped him!” He merrily said, ignoring how his voice wavered. He pushed away the nausea that threatened to overtake him, and focused on his idea. It would be perfect! His family would be turned into feral ferrets or chopped up for potion ingredients or whatever the hell the warlock wanted to do with them, and he… If he played his cards right and got really lucky Deceit might keep him around. He might even be his friend!

Are you sure about that?

Remus winced. Oh great, the voice of reason was here. Remus hated the voice of reason. It always managed to sound just like his parents, his brother and every teacher he ever had at the same time.

I mean, come now. You think he would actually like you?

“He can!” Remus said, but even to himself he didn’t sound very convincing. “I mean, he said there was nothing wrong with me! That I am complete, just the way I am-!”

Oh he certainly told you that… But be honest with yourself. Do you think he would have said those same things if he actually knew you? REALLY knew you?

Remus opened his mouth to protest. His mind scoured for counter arguments. None came. For once his head went deafeningly silent on its own accord.

After a few seconds Remus’ shoulders slumped. He sighed through his nose.

“…no.” Remus said softly.

Exactly. The voice of reason said smugly. No. So why even bother trying? It’s not as if anyone has ever picked you. I mean… Why would they?

He couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. Of course they wouldn’t pick him when Picture Perfect Fairy-tale Prince Charming was there too. He loathed thinking it, but Roman probably wouldn’t have a problem winning the warlock over. No no, he would recite some boring ass poetry, or give him a rose, or some dreadfully boring compliment and wam-bam, thank you ma’am Roman had a magical boyfriend before anyone could blink.

He scowled and kicked at the carpet. It wasn’t fair! Roman always got the best things! Why couldn’t he, for once, just get what he wanted instead of his brother stealing it from him-!

He stopped. A penny dropped in Remus’ head. A thrilling, captivating penny.

“…I can totally win Deceit over.” Remus whispered.

Uh, haven’t you been listening? We’ve never beaten Roman-!

“But that’s just the thing! Roman…” Remus said in slow, cautiously excited realization. “Isn’t here.”

…So?

“So he’s not here to upstage or cock-block me!” Remus’ eyes sparkled. A plan started to take form in his head, in a technicolor whirlwind of party streamers and canon explosions. Roman wasn’t here… It was just he and his sexy rattlesnake. A thousand possibilities suddenly opened up for him.

“I could-! I could woo him!” Remus excitedly said. “Sweep him off his feet! Blow his mind! And hopefully blow something else!”

If he did this right he might actually have a chance! Plus, as far as he knew, Sexy Scales and him really were the only people in this whole castle! No competition! And if he hadn’t had company for a while now, he must- Ooooh damn…

“He must crave the D so bad…” Remus whispered reverently.

That’s all well and good, but what makes you think he would go for YOU of all people?

“That’s where the second part of my plan comes in!” Remus said excitedly. “I am going to channel…” He threw his hands up in a dramatic flourishing pose. “My inner Roman!”

WHAT?? Eeeew, no! Gross! Why???

“No no really, think about it! People don’t like me, true, but everyone loves Roman! He’s got people kissing his ass all the time for some reason!”

Yes, he had never seen Roman without someone (or several someone’s!) grovelling at his feet, begging to ‘pretty please, fart in my direction today oh great and powerful crown prince!!’ or something along that line. Remus had always thought it was disgusting, but right now he needed that energy more than anything.

“This will be perfect! But for this to work I have to imitate mister Floundering Vanilla flawlessly! If I do everything right my beautiful Beau Constrictor will be super-duper impressed and fall hopelessly in love with me in no time! Goodnight, the end, happily ever after!”

…Holy shit that’s BRILLIANT. Good thinking Remus!

“Thank you Remus!” Remus said brightly.

Hmmm, yes, GREAT plan. Except you you’re not really Roman, are you? Even if it works, you’ll inevitably screw up. And once your lover realizes he didn’t get what he signed up for…

Remus however cheerfully ignored the voice of reason as excitement for his plan took over. He threw off his filthy clothes and boots as he dashed to the door that the warlock had pointed out. Behind it he found a bathroom made from black stone, thin lines of gold curling like veins in the dark stone. A grand deep-set bath was carved out in the floor, ceiling high windows giving a perfect view of the dark mountains. Remus’ first instinct was to press his ass against the glass and moon the entire kingdom, but he squashed it down. That’s not something Roman would do, and he was going to be Roman from now on, wasn’t he? Instead he opened the golden taps, and jumped in without waiting for the water to fill the bath up.

With more vigour than he ever had Remus scrubbed away the filth he had build up while traveling. Several golden bottles lined at the tub turned out to be ointments and bath oils, and he lathered all of them into his skin and hair. When he deemed himself clean he sprung from the bath, smelling like a lavender field had thrown up on him. An inspection into a cabinet carved into the wall turned up black towels, a set of clean clothes, toiletries and, surprisingly but thankfully, a razor. He stared at the blade in his hand for a second. Apparently the warlock was not worried at all about giving his hostage a potential weapon.

Deciding not to think to hard about the implications of that, Remus shaved away his three-day scruff meticulously. His moustache received a good trim and he curled the ends up extra fancily. When he finished he gave his naked reflection an appreciative once-over.

“Aw yeah,” He nodded with a satisfied grin. “Ready to seduce a snake!”

The clothes he found were simple, but clean and comfortable. As he slipped into a black pair of breeches and a black blouse with tiny silver buttons he briefly wondered where the warlock got the clothes. Remus sure as hell hadn’t packed up any extras.

…Wait. Were they his? Remus considered that possibility with wide eyes. The pants were a bit snug around his waist…

Running out of the bathroom Remus threw himself onto the bed and screamed into the very soft pillows for a few minutes, lest he be tempted to give the clothes a good sniff. Because that would be weird and not something Roman would do!

When he finally pulled himself together, Remus used a towel to clean his boots as well as he could before putting them back on. He pulled a hand through his damp hair, gave his armpits a testing sniff and smoothed down any wrinkles in his blouse. He took a two-armed candelabra to light his way and threw open the door.

Eagerly Remus walked into the dark halls that awaited him. Ready to grab his destiny by its gorgeous scaled face.    

--

There lived a witch in the woods.

That however was no concern right now for the angry crowd making their way through the forest, torches lightning their path. They had dogs on leashes with them, barking madly.

“The monster is close,” said the leader of the mob. “The dogs can smell it. Spread out! Find it!” With several voices yelling in agreement, the people spread out.

The monster in question was hiding underneath a bush. He held a hand against his mouth, desperately trying to stifle the sobs that kept pouring from him. His back burned, his shirt sickeningly slick with blood. He tried to wipe his tears away, the scales on his hands rubbing painfully against his puffy eyes. He winced when he heard the dogs barking in the distance.

They couldn’t find him. They would drag him back to the town, where they would be. They would hurt him again.

“Sit still, you filthy little beast!”

“N-No! PLEASE STOP IT HURTS PLEASE!!”

“Be a bit more grateful! We’ll get these unsightly things off of you!”

Years down the line he still wouldn’t know how exactly he got away. All he knew that one minute he was being held down, a knife slicing under the scales on his skin. The next minute he was running outside, into the woods that surrounded his family home.

Something on his back moved, and he flinched. Perhaps it had been… those things that had helped him escape. He hated them. Hated, hated, hated the extra arms that occasionally just appeared, as if to taunt him that he wasn’t human, that he was every bit the freak that everyone told him he was.

“Go away,” He whispered desperately at the extra appendages. “Go away go away go away go away!!”

A shudder ran down his back, and he knew they had vanished once more. His wave of relief was shot down when he heard the yelling, closer than he wished they were. He had to move. Shakily he crawled out of the false safety of his hiding place, hobbled to his feet and ran.

He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, his steps and sobbing deafening in the silent forest. As much as the dark frightened him, the small hints of light that he could see through the trees were even more terrifying. The voices behind him became louder and louder, the barking nearing. He could almost feel the dog’s jaws closing around his ankle. He tried to speed up, but every step jostled pain down his ruined back. Spots danced in his vision, tears leaking faster because of the burning ache.

His foot caught behind a root, and he landed on the forest floor with a painful yelp. He tried to get up as quickly as he could, but-

“THERE IT IS! WE FOUND IT!”

Fear spurring him on, the monster jumped up and ran. Now he heard running behind him, the mob closing in on him. He no longer tried to quiet down his cries.

He dashed into an open spot. It made him feel to open and exposed, and he tried to run towards the relative safe covering of the trees once more. But before he could reach them, another group of people burst from the treelines in front of him. He skidded, turning, wanting to run back, but there was the other group.

“Here it is! Grab it!” “No!” The monster sobbed. “No, please no!”

The mob didn’t listen, only closed him in with bloodlust in their eyes. The monster turned and turned, hoping to find a way to escape. Spotting none, he dropped to his knees and curled into a small ball, his arms covering his head. He heard the people approaching, victory in their yelling, and he only hoped that the end would come quickly-

“STOP.”

A bright light burst to life in the open spot, shocking the mob to a standstill. The monster could see the light seeping through his closed eyelids.

“What is happening here?” The booming voice of a woman asked.

“This is no concern of you, witch,” The mob leader said gruffly. “We’re here to kill the monster that has terrorized our town for too long.”

The monster swallowed as his throat closed up painfully. A witch. Now he was truly done for.

“A monster?” The woman said in baffled disbelief. “That is a child! You would murder a child in cold blood?”

“That is no child!” Someone sneered. “It’s a demon straight from the underworld!”

Agreeing voices sounded across the open spot. The monster trembled and curled into a smaller ball when he heard the people moving again, closing in on him.

“Don’t come near him!” The woman bellowed. “Anyone who dares to touch him will answer to me!”

Most footsteps came to a hesitant halt. One of them however didn’t stop.

“You don’t scare me, witch!” A man said. “I have slain plenty monsters before, and this one won’t be any different! That skin will look nicely on a new belt!”

The monster sobbed a little louder when he peeked under his arm and saw the boots of the man right in front of him.

“Oh really?” Said the woman. Her voice had turned dangerously soft. “Well, in that case, know you have brought this upon yourself…”

Another burst of bright white light illuminated the open spot. The monster only caught a small glimpse of it from under his arms.

“You have not heeded my warnings. Therefor you will suffer my curse. If any of you ever lays a hand on a child with the intention to harm again,” The woman’s voice turned powerful, commanding. “You will be transformed into PIGS!”

Muttering was heard, fear finally replacing the anger that had held the mob in its tight grasp. The man above the monster however only scoffed.

“Nice bluff, lady,” He said. “But no witch or sorcerer alive has ever brought down such a curse!” With that he bended down and harshly yanked the monster up by his bloodied shirt. The rough handling send a sharp shot of pain down his tortured back, and he howled in agony.

Immediately the hand released him. The monster fell back down with a thud while the man above him stumbled to the ground. The monster looked up at his would-be captor. The man shuffled backwards, staring pale as the moon at his pulsing hands. His mouth opened in a horrified silent yell as his fingers shrunk into his hands and hoofs started forming. His nose scrunched up, turning into a perfect little snout. Tusks pushed up from his bottom lip.

“NO STOP IT PLEA-!!” The man’s screaming transformed into horrified squealing as his vocal chords shifted and changed.

Screaming erupted over the open spot as the people dropped their weapons and ran, tripping over themselves to get away as fast as they could. The man turning pig tried to stand up to run along with them, but he stumbled as his legs shortened and his clothes clung onto a gradually shrinking body. No one came to his aid. He dragged himself after them, pleading squeals leaving him. Wide eyed the monster stared as the mob disappeared among the trees, their wails dying away slowly in the night.

His momentary reprieve didn’t last long. Careful footsteps approached him and the monster realized the witch was still there. Quickly he curled himself back into a ball. Panicked logic told him that as long as he didn’t move she might not spot him. Surely if this woman saw his face she would understand why the mob had chased him down. She would be scared… Or maybe she wanted to carve away his scales as ingredients for potions. She was a witch, that’s what witches did, right?

A curious touch on his arm startled the monster, making him tighten the arms around his head. The monster heard curious snuffles and soft clicks as something small rustled through the leafs around him. A little snout sniffed at his hand, insistently trying to nudge his arms away from his face.

Overtaken by his own curiosity, the monster warily peeked over his arm. Two ruby red angular eyes with split pupils met his. Pearlescent white scales trailed down a small reptilian body, leathery wings stretching out as the creature tilted its head inquisitively. He couldn’t help it; the monster lifted his head up a bit more to stare.

Was that… a dragon?

The white dragon didn’t move away as the monster gaped. It only let out a soft thrilling sound as it inspected him with an intelligent gaze. The sound made the monster smile hesitantly. He had never seen a dragon before…

A gentle hand caressed his curls, and ice-cold fear snapped him back to the here and now.

“DON’T LOOK AT ME!!” The monster yelled as dove back into a curled up ball. The hand snapped back. He bit his lip to choke back a strangled sob. Oh no oh no he had raised his voice, he yelled at an adult, this was bad, this was BAD-!!

“Why wouldn’t I look at you?” The woman asked softly. Her voice was a far cry from the intimidating boom from barely a minute ago. The monster however wasn’t fooled.

“I’m c-cursed…” He hiccupped. “P-Please don’t look, I’m c-c-cursed…”

A beat of silence. The monster knows that by now she must have spotted the scales on his hands, the sharp talons where blunt nails should be. Any second now she was going to scowl in disgust and call the mob back, who would finish the job. Fresh tears started straining down his cheeks as he awaited the inevitable.

“Oh no…” The woman whispered. “Oh no no no no no…”

Strong arms wrapped around him and lifted him gingerly from the ground. The monster wanted to beg and plead for mercy, but every word died in his throat when he was pulled against the woman’s broad chest in a careful embrace.

“I’m sorry…” The woman murmured brokenly as she stroked his hair soothingly. “I’m so, so sorry… Sorry, sorry, sorry…”

The monster lay paralyzed in the hug as the woman kept whispering apologies above him. “Please don’t hurt me…” He whimpered in a weak little voice. The woman’s breath hitched and she tightened her arms around him.

“Never, you hear me?” She said shakily. “Never.”

A gasp tore from his throat as Deceit shot upright. It took him a few frantic seconds to stop seeing the forest in the shadows of his room, to realize it was cold sweat dripping down his back and not blood.

With a groan Deceit fell back on his bed, rubbing the palms of his hands into his eyes. Great, that particular dream hadn’t passed the revue in a while. Oh, he just loved how it didn’t seem to matter how many decades had passed since that damned night; the dreams kept coming back. Like a fever he couldn’t quite shake. Weren’t his demons tired by now, beating him up with the same stick every single time?

Dragging his hands down his face, Deceit glared up at the ceiling like it was personally responsible for his ruined night. Damn, he was tired… He hadn’t slept this bad in ages. What had made him this restless-

Oh right. He had a guest.

Deceit groaned again, a longer, outdrawn sound of exhausted misery. Fate truly was a cruel mistress, wasn’t it? Just when he had seriously considered- horror above horrors- giving up (good grief, the words alone made him want to puke), they had thrown the winning key to his plan right into his lap. A member of the royal family… Not just that, one of the princes. This opened pathways he hadn’t even dared to think about before!

Speaking of things that just kept coming back, hope settled into the small dark dungeon that was his heart like the flickering light of a single candle. As if fate was a particular sadistic jailor who adored mocking him, taunting Deceit that he possibly couldn’t break out of his prison cell with just this one blasted candle.

Well. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing he had ever done to escape. And Deceit would be damned if he didn’t prove the jailor wrong.

Restless anticipation made him glide out of bed. He dressed himself in the dim light of the brightening sky outside. As he shrugged on his cloak he idly wandered towards the window. The sky was a pale grey, slowly brightening the mountains in hesitant light. The sun would rise soon, and with it, it would bring the first day of his new plan in motion.

Deceit closed his eyes in thought. A thousand paths unfurled in his mind’s eye, glistening like silk threads. Each thread was an idea, a scheme… a person. All waiting, blissfully unaware, for him to reach out to grasp the threads, to gently tug and guide them into the steps he wanted. Weave them into a dance so natural, so delicately planned that they did not realize the strings were there until it was too late.

Each thread was inspected meticulously, every possible outcome considered. His utmost focus however was on the thread that would be at the centre of his web.

Remus.

Deceit let his mind go to the man currently in his grasp. When the little prince had revealed who he was, last night on that mountaintop, Deceit had to force his hands to stay still, for his voice to remain steady. It had taken all his willpower to appear unaffected while his mind spun with shaky excitement. He had to reel himself in to not act in haste, but to listen first. Had Augusto finally grown careless enough to send his own son to finish him off, rather than the hero complex riddled fools who still occasionally dared to enter the mountains?

Turned out he hadn’t. Instead of getting an admission of a murderous plot against him, the boisterous prince had broken down in front of him. Lapping up the tiniest gestures of kindness Deceit gave him like he was dying of thirst. Apparently the Alveraz family couldn’t touch anything without destroying it, including their own children.

What a surprise.

So he had soothed the prince that wept in his lap, and carried him to his home. All the while his mind raced. When he finally placed the sleeping prince upon the cot in his laboratory, his plan slowly started to take form.

Now he only had to convince his guest to aid him. It wouldn’t be difficult. The prince already carried the pain of the rejection from his peers. All Deceit had to do was feed that resentment. Cultivate that hurt like a garden, placing a couple oh so carefully phrased suggestions to plant that seed of rebelling in his head. Sway him that Deceit was the only person left to trust. Until the prince was convinced it was his own idea to reject his former life and companions, without ever realizing someone else pulled at the strings attached to his wrists.

Deceit was an excellent puppet master, after all.

It would take him… three weeks? Or a month at most, until he had the little prince think what Deceit wanted him to. Easy. He had done this exact same thing a thousand times before. All he had to do after that was teach the prince all the tools he needed for his little coup, which hopefully would not take too long. And then… Then Deceit would claim his repayment.

He allowed himself a small smile. This is what he did best, maybe even more than the magic singing inside his veins. What was his magic but an extension of his mind? No matter how dire the situation was, no matter how much he was deprived of resources, he could always rely on his mind.

…But he shouldn’t become arrogant. He would rather die a hundred painful deaths than admit it, but he too made… mistakes (ugh). His unwavering trust in his own abilities had cost him greatly before.

This time he wouldn’t allow for any loose threads. This might very well be his last chance! He couldn’t afford to repeat his past mistakes. Not like with-

Tired eyes, darkened by the circles underneath them, looking up at him through unkempt bangs with an exasperated, but undeniably fond smile-

Deceit opened his eyes, taking in the soft light of the sunrise. He snarled at the twinge of his heart, weak little traitor that it was.

“Just don’t get attached again,” He sighed impatiently. “Then it should be fine.”

He stood at his window for a long time, taking in the view he had memorized to its finest details by now. Maybe he should see where Eris had slithered of to-

Deceit startled, whipping around and listening intently. From somewhere in the castle, the faint but distinct sounds of things falling, crashing, and breaking floated up towards his bedchambers.

It appeared that his guest was awake at last.

“Right,” Deceit cracked his fingers. “Showtime.”

--

After walking for about five minutes, Remus realized the one flaw in his otherwise brilliant plan.

It was night time. His gorgeous scaley paramour was most likely asleep.

A bit miffed Remus turned to go back to his room, only to realize he had NO idea where he was. With no other plan he choose a hallway at random, figuring that if he just tried every door he came across eventually he would find his chambers… Right?

An hour later he concluded that his plan was easier said than done. Remus looked between two identical hallways for a few minutes, before he had to admit it.

He was lost. And an idiot.

With no other choice Remus continued to explore. His wish to go back to his rooms gradually disappeared though as he ventured deeper and deeper into the castle. He hadn’t exactly paid attention to the castle itself before, distracted as he was. Now he   curiously took everything in. Unlike the rigid brick structure of his home, every room appeared to be carved into the mountain itself, much like his bedchambers were. In the dim candlelight of the candelabra Remus went down grand staircases, opened doors and traversed through many, many rooms. His footsteps echoed as he walked through a grandiose ballroom, ceiling high windows casting pale moonlight onto the floor, where tiny crystals glittered in the stone. From the ballroom he came into a dark lofty foyer, where sculptured pillars sprawled out into the darkness. Entranced Remus let his hand glide down one such pillar. The engraving pictured a dragon and a snake entwined together in breath taking detail.

Seriously, how big was this place?? Granted, his future lover to be deserved all the rooms and luxury in the world, but most of the rooms he came across were either empty, really dusty or a combination of both.

In the minutes that slowly ticked into hours Remus didn’t encounter a living soul, aside from some spiders in a corner. Not even mice or rats. A castle as big as this would attract rodents! Remus secretly fed the rats that ran through the walls of his home, he should know.

…Did his one true love eat the mice?

That thought made Remus stop in his tracks. Well, he was a snake... And so far he hadn’t encountered a kitchen yet. He tilted his head at the mental images… But then he shrugged.

“If he does eat mice, I will fully support him!” Remus proudly declared to the dark hall. “Probably very nutritious, those tiny cheese eating bastards…” He continued in a mutter as he pulled open another door. He vaguely wondered if he might accidentally stumble upon the room where the warlock slept. Probably in one of those grand beds with black silk sheets that perfectly frame his body-

Nope nope nope, shoving that thought away NOW. Remus quickly opened another door to distract himself.

Aha, finally some different interior! This room was quite packed with stuff. A LOT of stuff even! The room had to be some sort of library or storage room, as a circle of nearly ceiling high bookcases took up most of the space of the quite spacious room. Curiously Remus stepped inside. Through the windows Remus saw that the sky was brightening into hues of pink and orange, welcoming the rising sun. It gave him more light to inspect the room and its peculiar contents. Empty bottles, old books and skulls, mostly animal but some human were haphazardly strewn about the shelves, stuffed among boxes and some miscellaneous things. Remus saw a dusty lute, its strings flaccid from disuse, cauldrons black with soot and rolls with parchment that looked like they would crumble to dust if Remus were to touch them. A black suit of armour, detailed with gold-leaf, stood against the far end of the wall.

Remus gave a low whistle as he slowly circled around, craning his head to take in the large bookcases-

He stopped dead in his tracks. Suspended from the ceiling hung a skeleton. It was so large that it stretched out over the whole room. Remus’ jaw dropped.

Holy shit, was that the skeleton of a whale??

“…That’s not real!” Remus said, as he looked starry-eyed at the skeleton. “Can’t be! How the hell would he get it all the way up here on a fucking mountain??” Or was it real?? “No, no, it’s clearly fake! Not real!”

…Or was it?

One second Remus was staring up at the skeleton. The next thing he knew he had put down his candelabra and was climbing already halfway up one of the bookcases. He had to know, he HAD to know!!

When he reached the top shelf he stretched out his hand towards the skeleton. Damn it, it was still out of his reach! Frustrated he swung his arm to and fro, constantly missing his prize by a few centimetres. Come on, come on! He thought as he stretched out on his tippy toes. Almost! Almoooooost…

A piece of dust tickled his nose. Remus scrunched up his face, trying to repress the rising urge to-

“ACHOO!!” Remus’ sneeze echoed in the large room and shook through his body. The bookcase wobbled. Remus froze. Uh-oh.

“No. Nononononono-!” He pleaded as he felt the bookcase tip ever so gently backwards. He tried to wiggle it back in his place, but to no avail. With a cursed out shout Remus’ grip on the wood slipped. His stomach lurched as he plunged down and made hard contact with the stone floor. Sharp pain shot through his wrist. Remus cursed, cradling his arm close. His wrist however was the least of his concerns, as the bookcase tilted further and loomed over him. Remus paled as he saw the contents begin to slide. In a rain of bottles, books and boxes Remus had to half roll, half run out of harm’s way. One book landed painfully on his skull, but he came out of the downpour of years of clutter with no further injury. Remus breathed out in relief, but he was too quick. The bookcase heavily crashed against the second bookcase, which also started to dangerously tilt over.

“Nonononononono-!!” Remus desperately shook his head, holding out his uninjured hand as if to force the bookcase upright. To no avail. With a wooden groan the second bookcase lurched over, its contents gliding out and smashing to bits on the on the floor. And much like his predecessor it slammed into the third bookcase.

Helplessly Remus ran around as if to delay the inevitable, but in the end he could only look on horrified as the bookcases fell down one by one like a row of dominos, emptying their content with enthusiastic cacophony. Remus shrunk at every loud CRASH, every bottle that shattered and scattered glass over the floor. The vibrations through the floor made the suit of armour at the wall tremble.

“No, no, no please-!!” Remus wailed as he saw the helmet wobble.

With one final loud CLANG and BANG, the suit of armour fell to pieces on the floor. The helmet rolled over and came to a stop at Remus’ feet, who stood amidst the rubble like the last survivor of a grievous battlefield. Paralyzed as a rabbit staring down the wolf’s jaw, Remus took in the wreckage he caused. One final bottle slid down from the pile of books it landed on and doused Remus’ feet with glass.

“Okay, you know what?” Remus said with all the hysterical brightness of gambler who suddenly realized that he was playing a losing game. “New plan, new plan! I’m going to hide somewhere deep and dark,” He turned. “And hope he’ll never find me-!” “Good morning.” Deceit said calmly to his face.

“HOLY FUCK!!!” Remus flailed backwards screeching, tripped over the helmet and made a very ungraceful landing in a pile of what used to be several functioning bookcases. Remus cursed under his breath, tried to sit up, only to have another bookshelf give way underneath him, causing a pang of sharp pain to shoot through his banged up wrist. Letting out a fresh litany of curses, Remus finally managed to haul himself up in a sitting position amongst his created chaos. He gawked with open mouth at the sudden appearance of the most gorgeous man on earth the warlock, who gave him a very unimpressed look. When the fuck he did get here??

“Heh heh,” Remus nervously laughed. “You are…” He waved his hand up and down, trying to find a word. Stunning. Sexy. Hot as hell. “So quiet!” He settled on.

Deceit’s mouth quirked up in a small smirk and Remus swallowed thickly. Oh fuck… he got prettier. How the hell was that even possible??

“I try my best.” Deceit said dryly. Remus repressed the shiver that wanted to creep over his spine because of that oil-slicked voice. He wanted to crawl into the other’s throat and build his nest in those vocal cords just so he could listen to that voice always-

Any other dreamy visions instantly died when Deceit looked away from him, and instead took the room in slowly, examining the wreckage with a slight frown. Oh no.

“Care to explain to me,” Deceit said as he looked back at Remus. “What exactly happened here?” Remus suddenly thought that he maybe he should have just flung himself down a cliff when he had the chance.

“Uuuh… What happened? Did something happen, I don’t know-! What is a happening anyway-??” Remus babbled as he scrambled up from the mess in a fluster of uncoordinated limbs. When he finally stood he looked bamboozled at the shambled room like he hadn’t noticed it before. “Oh, this!” He laughed and turned to the other man with all the convincing act of a background actor in an amateur play. “I assure you, there’s a, uum… Perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this!”

Deceit raised an eyebrow. “Oh is there?” He asked amusedly.

“Hmm-hmm!” Remus nodded vigorously with a large grin.

“Well do tell!” Deceit said, as he waved his arms in an inviting gesture. “I’m all ears.”

Remus blanched. “Uuuuh…” He said, his mind racing. “Right! Yes! Okay, so get this-”

Words left his mouth without stopping by his brain first to say hello. Remus wasn’t sure what he was babbling on about as the minutes passed, but cut him some slack! The warlock’s calm attention made him more nervous than any yelling had ever done. He really wasn’t used to this. Usually people didn’t give him the time to explain himself! They just saw a mess, assumed he did it and started screaming. Not the warlock though. Deceit just listened, his hands resting in the small of his back, one eyebrow elegantly raised and an amused little smile playing on his lips while Remus kept spouting bullshit. God, what the fuck was he even saying anymore? He had no idea! Better end it quickly.

“-And that’s how it all happened, thank you very much, the end!” Remus squeezed out with his final breath. With a large gulp he leaned on his legs, wheezing slightly. Deceit tilted his head in thought.

“So… Just to recap,” The warlock said after a few seconds. “An army of gnomes broke through the window, had an orgy on my bookcases before summoning a demon, trashing the room and flinging themselves out the window whilst using their deal with the demon to magically fix the windows?”

…Fuck. Was that what he had been saying? Roll with it, roll with it.

“Yup!” Remus squeaked.

Deceit gave a short hum as he pursed his lips in thought. Remus allowed hope to flare up in his chest. Was he actually going to get away with this??

“You know,” Deceit said slowly. “For someone who’s very good at lying to himself, you are absolutely horrible at lying to other people.”

Aaaaaaand that hope died a gruesome bloody death. Right, well, Remus would say it was nice knowing himself, but that would be a lie.

“So, try again,” Deceit’s eyes hardened. “What happened?”

Remus crumbled into himself, wringing his hands together. “Well, I-!” He started, but stopped when Deceit raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t test me, little prince.” The warlock said evenly. He didn’t need to raise his voice to make Remus squirm. “I… I wanted to know if the skeleton on the ceiling was real…” Remus finally admitted in defeat as he pointed upwards at the skeleton in question.

“Right,” Deceit said with nod. “So did you satisfy your curiosity?”

“No… Because the bookcase I tried to climb fell over… Which made the other bookcase fall over, and then that one made the third one fall over, before-” No, stop talking. No one wants to listen to your stupid rambling, moron. “You get the picture…” He finished in a mutter.

“And there it is… The truth.” The warlock hummed. “Was that so hard?”

Remus didn’t answer. He kept from flinching when the warlock stepped closer by sheer force of will alone.

“Now. What to do with you…”

Remus stared at his feet. He knew what was coming next. He bit his lip, braced himself-

“Are you hurt?”

Remus blinked up at him. “…What-?”

“Are you hurt?” Deceit repeated patiently.

“I…” Remus stared. Wait… That’s… definitely not the direction this should go. “Not… Not really, I guess-?” He finally said, ignoring the dull ache in his wrist. That hardly even counted as hurt.

“Good.” Deceit smiled. He snapped his fingers, his eyes briefly flaring gold. A rumble erupted from the room behind him and Remus turned, only to gape when the room slowly started to rebuild itself. Bookcases righted themselves with a groan, the fractures in the wood disappeared in a golden glow, broken bottles fused back with a sharp singing sound. Remus had to duck when books flung themselves back to their original places; the suit of armour assembled itself back together. Remus was pretty sure he had to pick up his jaw from the floor when within a minute the room was completely spotless, like nothing had ever happened.

Heh, wouldn’t that be funny? If his jaw literally dislocated itself from his face to leave behind a gaping, bloody hole with only his wagging tongue left-

NO. No, that wasn’t a Roman thought! Focus!

“Well, that was that,” Deceit interrupted his thoughts. “Please refrain from climbing on tall things in the future. I would hate for you to break something I can not fix.”

Remus tore his bewildered wide-eyed look away from the newly restored room to stare back at the other. “You mean… Like the windows…?” He asked uncertainly. Deceit raised an eyebrow.

“I mean like your neck, dearie.”

Remus had no idea how to respond to that even if he wanted to. This was so far removed from how these kinds of conversations usually went for him that he was officially out of ideas.  

“Make no mistake,” Deceit said. “Next time you make a mess like this-”

Ah, right, now he would get the bodily threats, okay-

“-You will be cleaning it up yourself.”

…Or maybe not.

“And one more thing…”

Within the blink of an eye the warlock moved. Remus’ breath jittered to a stop when the other man was suddenly much closer, barely a hair width between them. Even without the golden glow Remus helplessly got lost in those fierce two-toned eyes.

“Do not lie to me again,” Deceit hissed, his fangs pushing out over his lower lip. “I do not appreciate being lied to, even when you are amazingly bad at it. Have I made myself clear?”

Remus’ heart thundered in his ears at the close proximity of the warlock. He drunk in every little detail that he had missed the first time, like how brightly yellow the left eye was. Or how the specks of gold in his hazel eye shimmered, as if his golden magic still shone through even without using it. Remus had thought they were about the same height, but this close he realized the warlock was juuuuuuust a smidge shorter than he was. He would have to lean down an eetsy-beetsy tiny bit to kiss those pretty lips. Remus had no idea why that little detail excited him so much, but it did.

“Super clear!” Remus squeaked, hoping to god he wasn’t blushing. Blushing was for the fucking weak. Deceit narrowed his eyes, giving him a sceptical glare. Remus tried to give him his best Roman-esque smile back. He couldn’t help but feel that on him it looked less charming and more like he was high off his ass.

“Right,” Deceit eventually said as he stepped away from him, and Remus bludgeoned down the urge to reach out and pull him back. “Are you hungry?”

Yes. Very hungry. Hungry for your DIC- “Yep! Definitely!” Remus brightly stopped his own head. “I could eat!”

Deceit gave him an odd look, but made no comment. “Come with me then.” He said as he waved him along. Remus followed him out of the room eagerly.

“Oh, and by the way,” Deceit threw a smile over his shoulder that made Remus’ legs all wobbly. “Yes. The skeleton is very much real.”

She had debated picking up the call. This was her only defense behind why she was sat in the emergency ward of Gyeong-Sang Hospital right now. Sat next to a bloodied and battered Se Joo, as she fidgeted her hands nervously, and waited around for one of the interns to finally come over. They had been here for 15 minutes, and Se Joo had not spoken a scant word to her aside from,“Don’t let them inform my family”, when they met outside of the hospital.

He got into a fight outside some seedy bar. Not their usual one. The bartender oppa would have called Soo Ji or Shi Hyun. But apparently, he was found passed out by some nice ahjusshi, who speed dialed from Se Joo’s phone to call Kyung Joo — which is something she doesn’t even want to think about right now.

Thankfully she sees some overworked and sleep-deprived intern presently coming their way. “There is fortunately no internal bleeding or rib fracture. The bruising is simply epithelial and will go away in a couple of days. A nurse will be right over to clean up and sterilize your wounds. They will also take your information for the follow-up, and you can pay your bill at the front desk”. With a tired smile, he turns to leave before Se Joo stops him, “Can I get my follow-up done at another hospital?” The intern clearly hesitates at the question before stumbling out, “Hmm, what hospital are you thinking of?” “I live quite close to the Myeong-Jung hospital, so it’s easier for me to finish the check-ups there”.

 “A lie”, Kyung Joo thinks, and makes a questioning face at Se Joo. But the way his back straightens and shoulders hunch up defensively,  she figures that she should leave it alone. She figures that she had come onto this conclusion some one and a half hour ago , yet here she is, getting involved in things she should leave alone. Coming out of her reverie , she only gets to hear the words,  “Great, that works out then!” , before the intern turns and walks over to the front desk.

Silence. Silence. Deafening silence with useless human noises.

“My credit card is frozen, so I can't pay the bill.”

Sigh.

“I'll pay the bill. I don't think it's gonna be much.”

“I’ll pay you back”.

Sigh.

By the time Kyung Joo gets back after clearing all the paperwork and getting the medicines, Se Joo’s bed is empty. Well, that’s a lie. It’s occupied by a lanky teenager with a black eye and swollen cheek, vehemently denying the nurse his contact information. By his looks, he seems to be from a well-to-do family, and probably makes a habit of getting drunk and into fights. Despite the uncanny personality similarities, it’s not Se Joo.

He probably didn’t want to face her after that awkward 30 minute encounter. She doesn’t blame him. Just hopes that he gets home safely.

----

Coming out of the hospital’s swiveling doors, Kyung Joo instinctively pulls her coat a little bit closer. The cold wasn’t enough, that now the blistering wind has followed its suit. From a glance at the night sky, it seems as though a storm is gathering. How truly symbolic.

If she was a character from a drama or a movie, this would be the point where she rolls out a cigarette and a lighter, and start contemplating her life over a good smoke. But she has done enough contemplation for tonight. And, she isn’t about to ruin her lungs for the aesthetic effect.

She can put her body through a bit of torture though. Try to walk as far as she can instead of taking a taxi. Maybe as her body faces the stinging chill, it will instruct her brain and heart to think through the next time before acting with an inconvenient amount of fervor. She could have just called Soo Ji or Shi Hyun. Se Joo was the one passed out, yet, she acted as if she was the one out of her mind.

Another gust blows her coat open and Kyung Joo reconsiders her decision. “Ah, whatever! Let’s just do it and see how far I get. Otherwise, I will call a taxi”. She starts walking.

---

She runs into Se Joo on the way. Idiot was also walking because he forgot that he didn’t have any money. And, of course, he couldn’t have used his brain and called someone to pay for him when he got to his destination. But, Kyung Joo doesn’t bring it up when they get into the nearest uber driver’s car. 

She doesn’t know why she considers this, but as Se Joo turns his body to completely face the car window and away from her, Kyung Joo feels that he also wanted to punish himself. Wanted his body’s discomfort to remind his brain and heart of something.

Silence. Silence. Deafening silence with useless kpop music.

“Se Joo-ah”

“Hmm?”

“Am I your speed dial?”

“....I lost a bet with Soo Ji.”