that purple vest i hate it

castielonthedl  asked:


Okay I hate myself but this is more like the filler part for what’s going to happen next I told y’all I have a lot planned yikes

Read part one

No matter what the princess had said, Eita was an absolute devil. Of course, Satori had to take in consideration that a knight too far up on his high horse would rather be stabbed than take care of someone like him. He wasn’t sure what he expected from him, really. Every time Eita would douse his chest in antiseptic, he’d do it without forewarning, leaving Satori hissing when the chemicals reached his open wound. Eita would shrug, mutter a shallow, “oops” before repeating the same thing all over again.

“You think this is bad? Try pouring it inside a cut.” Eita muttered, placing the bottle of antiseptic up against Satori’s chest and letting it dribble into his wound again. He groaned, and Eita only shook his head. “What the hell even happened to you?”

“Mobs.” Satori shrugged. He watched with tentative eyes as Eita started wrapping his torso up with bandages. He noticed a small furrowing of the knights eyebrows. He was careful when he was wrapping him up, almost as if he didn’t want to hurt him, although he forced him though the antiseptic ritual. He had to admit the tightness of the bandages was nice, though.

“Mobs?” Eita echoed, taping the bandage up and rising up from his knees. “They still do that to you? I thought that trend ended a while ago”

“No, I just learned to fight ‘em off.” Satori shrugged, sliding off the table Eita had forced him upon. Eita stood there in silence, arms folded across his chest. Satori just figured he was being judged again. He ignored it, slipping the clean shirt donated to him over his head. It was stuffy, he noticed, and tight in all the wrong places. So were the pants and the shoes he wore. An indigo, velveteen vest sat in a crumpled pile at the far end of the table, and Satori contemplated whether he should put it on or not. He decided to go with it, although it was the ugliest thing he had ever seen.

“You know…” Eita began, suddenly. His rapier was in his hand now, and Satori would’ve been lying of he said it didn’t make him the slightest bit nervous. “…I don’t know why the princess likes you so much.”

Satori shrugged at this. His eyes caught Eita’s suddenly, but something in him forced him not to look away. He wasn’t sure what happened next, because Eita’s eyes widened and quickly darted towards the floor. Satori could’ve laughed at the look on his face. He wasn’t trying to establish his dominance here, nor was he trying to be intimidating. This knight couldn’t even look him in the eyes, but the fragile princess could dart straight towards him in the darkness of a back alley.

Satori huffed, he knew there was something odd about this kingdom, but never expected this.

“I didn’t mean that to be rude.” Eita cleared his throat in attempts to defend his previous statement. His eyes were still glued to the floor, though.

“Okay. Didn’t say that you were.”

“I’m just saying, I’ve never seen the princess go out of her way for someone like that. If so much as a bit of lint comes in contact with her dresses, she loses it.” Eita turned around on the heel of his boot and left the room, tapping his rapier against the door frame as a gesture for him to follow. Satori complied, trailing behind the knight as he swiftly maneuvered his way around the castle halls. He stopped focusing on what Eita was saying, rather, the way he treated his surroundings. Even for someone who lived on these grounds, Satori thought it would be damn near impossible to get accustomed to such a place. Though Eita seemed to be more comfortable than the princess, greeting every guard at every doorway, tumbling down each staircase as if it’s spiralling elegance was nothing. Satori knew this was definitely not the place for him.

Eita took him back to the grand entry he came in from. The princess stood there idly, cleaned and prompt in a large lavender gown. She would’ve been the pinnacle of perfection if it weren’t for the stank face she shot up at Wakatoshi as he scolded her. Satori thought that made her all the more endearing, though.

“You are not a peasant who can walk the streets as you wish, Princess, even during the day.” Wakatoshi had his hands balled tight into fists. Worry was evident on his face as he continued with his spiel, all whilst __ rolled her eyes. Satori assumed they must’ve been close, a brother sister relationship, or so it seemed.

“You don’t think I know that? You know I could get you killed without explanation if you even try telling my father.”

“Don’t pull the execution card, Princess. I’m the one who does the executions.”

__ placed her hands on her hips and sighed, shaking her head up at the knight.

“If anybody happens to find out, can we say I woke up early to visit the knights at main entryway? Father won’t question it, neither will Mother.”

“But what about The- I mean-…” Tsutomu pointed towards Satori from behind Eita. “Him?”

Satori cocked an eyebrow, only for the princess to send him a curt wave.

“We’ll just say one of you happened to see him on the streets.” She shrugged, becoming even less focused on Wakatoshi as Satori stalked closer towards them. He felt so uncomfortable in a setting like this, a definite fish out of water. The vest was definitely a horrible idea.

“Eita, you can take the blame, can’t you?” She peeped, nudging the knight in the arm the moment he took her side.

“I’m not compassionate enough, everyone here to the kingdom over knows that. It has to be you.”

Satori found the way she interacted with the knights to be strange. He didn’t have a vast knowledge about how those who were rich were supposed to act, but he reckoned they weren’t ones to be so friendly with those who worked for them. Perhaps the princess was lonely, it wouldn’t surprise Satori if that happened to be the case.

“Fine, I’ll be the one who saw him. It has to be one of you who retrieved him though. I get yelled at if I’m on the balcony by myself.” The princess shrugged, running her hands across the silk of her skirt.

“I’ll do it, but only if you promise not to pull something like that again.” Wakatoshi sternly bowed, and exited the commons towards the front steps again. “Because Princess, if something like that does happen again, it is my duty to tell your father.” The other two knights followed him out the door, Eita stopping to shake Satori’s hand before he followed.

“If you ever need anything-” Eita muttered, pulling his hand away as quick as he slipped it in. “-Uh, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

Satori merely nodded, not even sure how to rely to such a demand. Eita was quite the character, in Satori’s eyes. The knight had armor of his own, or so it seemed. It didn’t take him long to step out of it around him, though. Was it really that easy for him to get comfortable around a stranger, or was Eita just degrading him? Eita shut and locked the front doors behind him, and once the lock clicked, Satori shot the princess a glance and sighed.

“I can tell that you feel uncomfortable.” The princess smiled, shuffling closer to his side.

“What gave it away, now? The vest or the awkward handshake?”

“Both.” She spun on her heel to face him, rapidly twisting a ringlet of her hair around her fingers. “Purple really isn’t your thing.”

“This entire outfit isn’t even my thing.”

“I know. You’re allowed to leave anytime you wish, I was just hoping you’d stay around for a while.”

Satori felt his stomach drop. The look she was giving him screamed “pity” and “adoration” at the same time, and he hated it. He couldn’t read her emotions like he could with everyone else’s. If anything, she was the one frightening him.

“See, I don’t mind staying. Do your parents mind me staying, hm?” Satori inquired. He began to fiddle with the tassle hanging off his vest. Damn, did he hate this thing.

“They won’t mind. The place is too big for them to even notice your presence, to be honest.”

The princess waved her hand at him, gesturing him to follow her. She lead him into an ornate den, obnoxiously gold and maroon, and plopped down on one of the couches. Satori was wary if such a delicate thing was even meant for sitting on. He did though, keeping his posture up even better than the princess. He thought it was a bit funny, he’d never seen someone sit cross legged in a gown.

An awkward silence draped over the two, __ caught up in fiddling with her hair, and Satori just staring off into space. The distant sounds of teacups clinking could be heard from down the hall.

“Say, Princess.” Satori muttered suddenly.

“__.” She corrected.

__. Are the knights your friends?” He inquired, watching as her once amused face turned downward. He hit a soft spot, he figured.

“Not really. I mean, I get along with them just fine. Wakatoshi’s been living here since I was ten or so, so has Eita, we grew up together. Still, I wouldn’t call them my friends. They’re here to protect the castle, they’re paid to put up with my problems.” She maintained a solemn eye contact with him the entire time, forcing a fake smile when Satori cocked his head. “It’s pathetic, I know. Mother tries to get me to be acquainted with the princesses in neighboring kingdoms, but they’re all getting married and such. It’s pathetic if I say I’m sort of lonely, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think it’s pathetic.” Satori peeped. “I’ve been living alone since I was seven. I know what it’s like to want somebody.”

“I’m sorry. What happened? To abandon you like that, I mean.”

“Tha-at’s a story for another day.” He grimaced, his focus drawn to a golden peacock resting on the mantelpiece. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed she was still staring at him. He figured she would look away herself when she realized he wasn’t paying attention, but she didn’t. It made him a little bit nervous. He figured her loneliness and his arrival were tied somehow. By the way she acted around him, he had no doubt that she had some interest in him, aesthetically or platonically, he wasn’t sure. Although, he couldn’t help but wonder if him intriguing her had sparked the idea to befriend him. Maybe all of this was about her finding a friend in someone. The likelihood of that was high, especially regarding someone like him, a person with nothing to give. He darted his eyes over to meet hers, to which she looked away quickly, flustered, at the least. He found himself smiling and unable to control it. 

Maybe life in the palace wasn’t going to be so horrific after all.


Prompt: I was deep in thought when I was locking my motorbike and I locked your motorbike with mine. You look kind of pissed but you’re hot.

I think I’ve established by now that I suck at titles.

Alec loves motorcycles. He loves how they look, he loves they sound when they are speeding on the road, he loves the way the wind hits his face and makes his hair fly when he’s riding it. He knows how to handle his bike, he knows every inch of it. His bike was a birthday present from his brother, Jace.

It’s Monday and Alec stops his bike in front of the coffee shop. He is running late and he frantically takes his helmet off (safety first, especially on Mondays). Alec hastily locks his bike and enters the coffee shop to start his shift.

‘Sorry, I’m late,’ he says to Hodge, the owner of the little coffee place, and gets a disapproving look in return.

‘Just grab your apron and get in there,’ Hodge points towards the kitchen.


Monday mornings are usually frantic. Alec is cursing under his breath trying to put everything in order. He had a lot going on. His brother Max was sick, Jace seemed to have forgotten he existed, Izzy was always going out with that nerd boyfriend of hers. His parents are out of town and he has to make sure they have food before he goes out for his shift and-


'I’m coming!’ Alec quickly washes his hands, wipes them on his apron and goes out. Hodge is waiting for him outside the kitchen, his one hand resting on the counter and his eyebrows raised.

'You put a lock someone else’s bike.’


 'Go,’ he gestures with his thumb towards the door.

Alec hastily makes his way across the room and out of the shop. He stops dead in his tracks. A man is leaning against his bike. He has black hair spiked up with…was that glitter? He is handsome, Asian, wearing purple pants and a silk black shirt and a shiny silver vest. Alec blinks at the flamboyant display for a moment before making his way towards the man. The man raises his brows when he sees him and grins,

'I didn’t know locking bikes together was a thing.’

Alec is confused for a moment then looks at the two bikes and groans.

'God, I’m so sorry,’ he says stumbling over his words. 'I wasn’t paying attention and I was late-I’ll unlock it-I’m sorry again.’

He hates the way his cheeks are burning and he’s still apologizing and the guy is very very cute. He quickly unlocks the bike and smiles apologetically.

'What’s your name?’ The man asks, cocking his head. Alec swallows. 'Alexandar, Alec. I’m called Alec.’

Shut up, he thinks.

The man grins, amused.

'Well I’m called Magnus and I think I’ll need more than just an apology. You did make me late for my job.’

Alec looks at Magnus with a horrified expression and Magnus laughs. 

'I didn’t ask you to bring me the moon darling, I was thinking ,maybe, coffee? Dinner? Whatever you prefer and you can tell me about bike. I can see you take good care of it.’

Alec’s eyes lit up at the prospect of talking about his motorbike. He was getting asked out in a parking lot by this very attractive man who apparently shared an interest in motorbikes. Alec suddenly grins nervously, feeling himself getting redder, if that’s possible, and nodded.

'Yeah, yes. My shift finishes in 4 hours. I got my bike as a gift. My sister thinks my obsession with my bike is kind of crazy.’

Magnus smiles at him. 'I find it adorable.’ He suddenly leans forwards and Alec feels his lips brush against his ears. He shivers.  'In fact, we could use that lock for different purposes after the coffee. Though I prefer ties, I think.’ He touches his fingertips to the lock in Alec’s hand.

He winks and steps back to climb on the bike. He speeds up his bike and rides away. Alec finds a paper attached to his motorcycle

You should not pay attention more often.


Magnus Bane.