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twitterpated-passion · 2 years

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Matched | Monster Boyfriend

You liked to say that you had a normal life. It wasn't interesting, but it wasn't bland. You got through school with minimal mishaps, you had a job and you were thinking of getting your masters. And despite some obvious 'gifted kid' burnout symptoms pulling at you every now and again, you liked the life you lived. Most of the time, at least.

Now?

Now you couldn't say your life was normal even if you were being held at gun point.

-<><><><><><><>-

It all started with that stupid 'volunteer' start up group that suddenly came into play and forced a handful of people from selected cities to sign up. You were one of the (un)lucky few that got chosen, given only a day to pack before they picked you up in front of your apartment building and drove you out of the city.

Only the worst thoughts creeped in your head, telling you that you should've ran the moment you were chosen. It was only natural to feel that way, not a single person told you what the start up group was for and every time you tried to ask you were greeted with silence or a small 'Don't worry about it' from the driver.

You did, in fact, worry about it. You worried about it until someone finally let you know what was happening.

The person who let you know was the first person you saw when you walked into the building, a greeter of sorts in an oversized lab coat with their glasses on the tip of their nose. They perked up when they saw you and quickly pulled you away from the driver to lead you down a hall. "Welcome! You're right on time!"

"No one else chosen came with me though," you said. "And no one was in the entrance."

The person laughed, nodding. "Mhm! That's because it's your time. Others have come and gone before you, and they'll come after you. It's just not their scheduled time."

You shot them a confused look, which they didn't notice, waving their hands in the air to motion to everything. "I'm sure you heard already about what you're doing right?"

"No," you shook your head. "I was told not to worry about it. What am I doing?"

Their jaw slacked as they looked at you with a shocked expression. "Jeez...someone's getting fired."

They shook their head and shoved their hands in their coat pockets. "Anyway- what you signed up for is a very important start up group. I'm sure you're aware of the treaty made with King Ralin? Right?"

"Somewhat? It trended for a week and then disappeared off of the face of the Earth." They nodded. "What about it?"

"Well, in every country, a group of individuals are picked out for the group. The numbers vary on size, but that's not the point. Given that you were chosen, you get to go in your own little pod and rocket up into space, right on their planet. We're trying to ease human and alien relations smoothly, and if this goes well, we're hoping that King Ralin will send some of his people down here!" The scientist seemed so excited while explaining this to you, and a frown appeared on their face as they tilted their head at you. "What? Is something wrong?"

"You want me to be a test subject," you said. "I'm supposed to squeeze my ass into a pod and rocket up into space just to act buddy-buddy with aliens who probably aren't used to humans and might just hate my guts?"

"When you put it like that," they pouted, looking away from you. "It won't be as bad as you think. We've already established that no harm is going to come to the start up group or the aliens. So even if they hate you, they can't hurt you."

"What about the need for oxygen?"

"You ask that like aliens don't also breathe air. Your safety is already confirmed. You have nothing to worry about."

You weren't too sure you believed them.

-<><><><><><><>-

It's been exactly two months and five days since you went in that pod and arrived on planet 'Actae'. How you pronounce that in their language was unbeknownst to you, so you've just been calling it planet 'A' in your mind or whenever you needed to talk to another human about the planet.

It wasn't bad, you were able to admit that. Most of the aliens you met seemed to be more than happy to see humans for the first time, and you were able to quickly make friends with two of them, though, they worked with you in the Capital's library, so it mainly came with constantly seeing each other.

And that's where you were when you met him.

Prince Fonir, a cocky son of a bitch who loved to do nothing but tease you relentlessly every time he decided to 'grace' you with his presence. Though, all he did was make you regret choosing the library job no matter how much it suited you.

And unfortunately, today wasn't the day that he stayed home at the castle. Instead, he was mindlessly browsing through the fiction section, looking at the mixture of books that came from both Earth and Actae.

Even if he did, in fact, infuriate you, you couldn't help but stare, eyes glued to the graceful movements of his hands, to the way his long, baby pink hair would cover his face when he dipped his head down ever so slightly to get a better look at the book. You didn't realize how bad it was until you realized that the big pools of galaxies that were his eyes were looking at you as well, a cocky grin on his face, as he tucked the book under his long arm and sauntered over.

You busied yourself, a huff leaving your lips as his light olive green hands placed the book down. "You know, it's rather rude to stare, especially at royalty."

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the book and using your pointer finger to pull it towards yourself. You lifted the small scanner and pressed it to the book, hearing the high-pitched beep before pushing it back to him and answering, "Really? I wouldn't know, but I don't exactly care either. Isn't being stared at the job of royalty?"

You met his eyes bravely, eyebrow raised. "Which brings me to ask; don't you have anything better to do? You come here twice a week and do nothing but try to stir something. Don't you have your own library, your highness?"

"I do," he admitted. "But my library doesn't have a Jarïle for a librarian."

Your brows furrowed trying to figure out what he had just called you in his language, but nothing clicked, and you breathed a huff through your nose. Forcing yourself not to rub the bridge of your nose to try and ease a little of your annoyance out, you clicked your tongue and took one look at the screen-less computer in front of you. "Next month on the second. Bring in the book then or before. I'm not afraid of charging a prince a late fee."

He loomed over the computer and met your eyes once more before tucking the book under his arm again and turning on his heel, walking towards the front doors. You watched him leave, happy this encounter was shorter than the rest and that you could return to your own book faster.

But what he called you was still repeating in your mind, you doubt you could pronounce it correctly without five hundred tries, but when Jorik came out of the back room, you quickly approached her. "Jorik! I need your help."

She tilted her head, pushing her braid behind her with a small chuckle. "What do you need help with?"

You opened your mouth, but closed it quickly, contemplating on actually asking, and if she'll even know what you mean, considering how much you're probably going to botch the word. But, you ask her anyway. "What's a...jarile...?"

Her smile faltered as a confused expression overtook her face, her pale blue eyes narrowing slightly before she asked, "Do you mean jarïle?"

"Yea," you confirmed, hand moving to bashfully scratch the back of your neck. "What does it mean?"

"It means fire starter," she answered. "Where'd you hear that?"

"The Prince was in...again." You didn't hide the annoyance that bubbled in your tone suddenly, Jorik already well introduced to your dislike to the royal. She looked around however, smile faltering until you wave your hand in front of her face. "He left, don't worry."

She shook her head and focused her gaze back on you, raising an eyebrow. "What about Prince Fonir?"

"He was the one that called me it," you said, a small scoff coming out when you were done. "The hell is his issue with me anyway? I'm just trying to get through the day, just like everyone else."

"Korlae." You shut up at the nickname. It meant honey, but Jorik liked how it sounded in her language more. You couldn't blame her. "Jarïle is an affectionate term."

You blinked, pulling your head back slightly. "What?"

Jorik let out a soft laugh, the sound slightly echoing in the quiet space. With a nod, she walked herself over to the stool, sitting on it to lower herself to be eye to eye with you. "You've never called someone you like a fire starter? Trouble?"

"You act like I've had a partner," you said, sitting in the stool beside hers, lifting it up just a bit. "Don't you guys have matchmakers though?"

She was quiet for a moment, brows furrowed before they lift and hide behind her bangs when she realized. "Oh! K-Kinda? They find our soulmate. I don't know how they do it, but it's a day of celebration for us. It only happens once, when we turn twenty-three in human years."

She smiled fondly. "I only have a few months until it's my turn. Soran has a year for his. And Prince Fonir's is in a week, it's going to be huge. Everyone wants to know who the lucky Horæl is."

"Remind me what that means?" You knew she knew what you meant, and she chuckled at your lack of an attempt at saying it.

"It's basically our equivalent of 'alien'. Like how humans call other humans...humans." Another chuckle left her. "Anyway, they're going to play it all over the planet, since, Prince Fonir is going to take the crown when he's twenty-five. It's important to know who'll rule beside him."

"Yea..." You said, voice drifting off when you're reminded of the similarities for the royals back on Earth and on Actae. "I get it."

"Good, because I'm gonna invite both you and Soran over to watch it with me. I don't think I'll be able to watch it alone." You smiled at how excited she seemed over it, pushing back how annoyed he made you to grab her hand with a nod.

"'Course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, Jorik."

-<><><><><><><>-

The library -like other places- was closed on Prince Fonir's birthday, so instead of having to work and going with Jorik and Soran to Jorik's apartment, you were able to go straight to it. Fortunately for you, she lived fifteen minutes away from your apartment, just a couple blocks down.

You were hardly able to knock before the door swung open and Jorik loomed over you with an excited grin spread across her face. "You made it just in time, it's about to start!"

She yanked you inside and shut the door behind her, ushering you towards the large couch that sat in the living room area of her loft. "You can sit beside Soran."

With a nod, you do, waving over to Soran as he smiled at you and lifted his hands to sign, 'She's pretty excited.'

You chuckled, nodding in response before glancing over at the Horæl who's happily tapping her foot against the floor, the sound creating an unrhythmic melody. "Is it because of the Prince or because she really likes this ceremony?"

You looked back at him, eyes focused on his hands when he responded, 'Both.'

"Ah," is all you were able to say back before the 'be right back' sign on the holographic tv screen switched to show the castle, the crowd around it immense, everyone -humans and Horæls alike- wanting to see who was paired with Fonir .

It switched to inside the castle, showing a gaggle of nobles standing in the throne room. None of them paid the camera that was practically in their faces any mind, all of them chatting amongst each other, or keeping to themselves. There was no noise of it though, only a narrator explaining the importance of the ceremony.

Everything seemed to quiet down though when King Ralin stepped out, his usual event outfit on, just without the cloak he carried on his shoulders. Then, when he stepped out of the way, Prince Fonir came out from the same doorway.

All you could do was stare as the camera focused on him, following his every move as his hands picked at his outfit, the usual monotoned colors he wore exchanged for bright, flashy colors. Purple, pink and gold.

His hair was let down and the two braids pulled to the back of his head kept his hair from his face, since the crown he was wearing wouldn't have helped. Pink touched his cheeks and ears, and his eyes were trained on the ground.

He was nervous.

A light nudge to your foot pulled you out of you thoughts, and you snapped your head away from the tv, looking at Jorik. "For someone who hates him, you seem to like staring at him. Your cheeks are red, Korlae."

Your heart skipped a beat and you shook your head, letting out a small scoff. "I was just seeing how nervous he is."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't all that you saw.

She merely gave you a once over and turned back to the tv, letting you do the same. You were greeted with Fonir standing in front of his father's throne, fists against his sides as the nobles stepped to the side, giving both him and King Ralin space to get the ceremony going.

Two other Horæls came out of the doorway opposite to the one the Prince and King came out of, but they were dressed just as flashy, and if Jorik's excited little noise was anything to go by, you would've assumed that they were officials. They looked older than both King Ralin and Fonir, which amazed you, since King Ralin was definitely older than he looked.

One bowed their head to Fonir before he lifted his arms and allowed them to push up his sleeves, baring his forearms to the other official. The other one produced something like a pen, but when the camera focused on what the official was doing with said pen-like tool, you watched it shallowly cut his wrist three times, though no blood surfaces.

You turn to Soran with a confused expression and lucky enough, he seems to catch it, hands moving fast as he explained, 'The knife takes the blood and they put it in a pen that creates an eternal symbol.'

"...Oh," you said, eyebrows raising slightly as you turned back to the tv. The unrhythmic tapping returned as the three of you watched as Fonir's bright blue blood falls into a pen, the process looking extremely drawn out until it's filled completely.

Fonir's eyes are closed tightly, and you remember the dramatic endeavor you went through when he accidentally got a papercut one day at the library. To say he was good with pain would be a complete lie.

You wanna do the same as him however, when you finally realize how interested you are in knowing who the Horæl'll be. You shouldn't even care, if anything you could be a little happy, it'd get him out of the library more often than not. But you did, even if you weren't sure why.

The symbol basically drew itself on his wrist, covering the already healing cuts and forming something odd, a mandala looking symbol that you couldn't get a good look of, but yet you still glanced over at Jorik because you were in serious need of an explanation. But when she looked at you and Soran, you were met with the same confused look.

"You never actually told me how they found the soulmate, Jorik..." You said, but as she opened her mouth to answer, you heard a gasp from a certain Prince.

You couldn't move your head faster to face the screen, eyes focused on what's in front of you as you, Jorik and Soran watched him look at the symbol with wide eyes. There were whispers in the background in the castle, and the camera stayed where it was when Fonir leaned to his father to whisper something to him.

You saw King Ralin's eyes widen, just like Fonir's was seconds ago. Then you heard one of the official's speak, their voice loud and commanding when they announced, "The symbol belongs to a human."

The air around you seemed to stop as Jorik's tapping silenced and a throaty noise left Soran.

Prince Fonir was paired with the impossible.

-<><><><><><><>-

Every human that was sent to Actae, two hundred to be exact, were ordered to go to the castle the moment the cameras shut off, said order being sent specifically to your phone, rather than everyone's. A shaky breath left you when you read the message over and over.

"So..." Jorik started after a while, "you have a chance-"

"I'm not going to think about that," you cut her off. "I'm just gonna go to the castle and then I'm gonna watch it happen with one of the others."

You stood, shoving your phone into your pocket before walking to the door. "Maybe it's a misunderstanding. Maybe, and here's a thought, Fonir doesn't have a match."

A sigh breached your lips and you opened the door, looking back as you stepped out. "I call you when I find out."

Jorik nodded and Soran gave you a small smile, which you returned before walking out fully and shutting the door behind you.

You walked the distance to the castle, ignoring the looks you got as you were walking. They weren't bad per-se, but you could tell some of them didn't really like the possibility of a human ruling over them.

Not that you blamed them. It's only been three months since the first humans came to Actae, it's already a big change, and to know that one of them is going to rule with the Prince when he turns twenty-five is an even bigger change.

The stares only got worse when you arrived at the castle, your hands holding your arms as you walked in and avoided the looks of the maids that walked through the halls. The only one that didn't stare was the one leading to the throne room, explaining what to do when you walked in. "Stand straight and look them in the eyes when they talk to you, use your right hand to shake theirs and nod your head to bow. Speak when spoken to and when they let you all go, you can return to your home. But only when they allow you to leave."

She turned to you and waited for you to nod in understanding before she pushed the door open. You straightened your posture and walked in, fingers digging into your arm as you saw the other humans, all of them off to the side. You made haste joining them.

When you decided to look at anything other than your peers, you gazed over to the throne and met Fonir's eyes, and for once, you felt something other than annoyance when you saw the small smile on his face. He looked almost relieved to see you, his left hand holding his right wrist, as if he was hiding it.

You looked to your sides, and then back at him when you decided to do the one thing you know you'll just deny when it was brought up later. You lifted your hand from your arm and gave him a small wave. He did the same after a quick glance towards his father, confirming that he was still talking to the officials.

It didn't take long for the others to show up, no one really wanting to make the King to the new planet they're living on upset. It made you feel a little better when you noticed that everyone else was nervous, or at least happy you weren't the only one that looked like they might about cave in on themselves.

Fonir stood behind his father when it was made known that you were all there, and they stood in the middle of the room, the Prince's eyes trained on the ground again. You stared at the King and forced your shoulders back, listening to him when he started to speak, "I'm certain you all know why you're here, one of you happens to be my son's match."

'Getting straight to the point...thank god," you thought, appreciating King Ralin not beating around the bush.

"I thought this would be a simple process, considering no one else had been paired with a human before the 'start-up', but, as it turns out, not everything can be as simple as you want it." There was a small laugh that left his lips and he clasped his hands together. "And because I would hate keeping everyone here for hours, anyone who volunteers and is not the match, can leave as soon as it's confirmed. If we find the match before everyone gets a chance, everyone but the match can leave immediately."

Fonir glanced up and took one large swoop of the crowd, then his eyes fell back onto you. You felt his stare, but it quickly turned away from you when the first volunteer happened to walk up to him, bowing.

You didn't want to look, but yet, you did. You watched as the first five got rejected, you watched as one took longer than the others only to fail and you watched as Fonir got impatient.

His eyes met yours again, and the silent look of pleading on his face made you go after the fifteenth person, raising your hand slowly and silently. You only walked up to him when the King nodded and you nodded your head at Fonir, finally getting a good look at the symbol.

It was a mandala alright, but, the longer you looked at it, the more familiar it got. You lifted your hand from its position on your arm and traced it, stopping only when you felt a searing pain in your left wrist. You hissed and stepped back, tearing your hand away from him before grasping your wrist, pressing against your wrist.

Fonir's eyes were wide as he watched you, your face contorted in pain as you tightly held your wrist, the pressure easing it just a little. "Jarïle," you heard him start through deafened ears, "...move your hand."

You could hardly hear the whispers that came after Fonir spoke, and all you could feel was the burning in your wrist until you saw a green hand slowly clasp over yours. You leaned into the cool touch letting him pull your hand away, only to reveal the same symbol that was on his wrist. Though, instead of it being drawn, it was burned into your skin, like it was made with a branding iron.

King Ralin was at Fonir's side in no time at all, pale white eyes looking back and forth between your marks. "...That's never happened before."

"Being matched with a human hasn't happened either, Fonir," his father pointed out. "I suppose you found your match."

The collective whispers seemed to quiet down immediately when it was announced and the next thing you knew was that King Ralin was wishing everyone but you a farewell and to 'have a safe trip home'. Then the throne room's doors were shut and you were left alone with the two.

Silence blanketed over the three of you and you pulled your hand away from Fonir, eyes falling to the floor as you heard echoed footsteps and then Ralin's voice, "So, I assume you two have already met."

You nodded, but Fonir talked before you could, "They work at the Capital's library, father."

You lifted your head slightly, only to see the King's eyes as he looked at you, a small smile on his face. You pulled your left arm behind your back to nod at him slightly, the burning feeling in your arm slowly dispersing with each moment. His smile widened and his short, neon pink hair tipped to the side when he tilted his head. "Are you sure jarïle is the right nickname for them, Fonir?"

You felt Fonir's eyes on you again, and you met his eyes. "I think it suits them a lot."

Everything you had on your tongue died when you saw him look at you, and you hated how you were anything but annoyed at it. You didn't like the butterflies that formed in your stomach when he gave you a small smile and winked. And you didn't like how you knew that his teasing would just come back tenfold because of this.

"It's just going to get worse," you finally responded after a long moment, and his smile widened at it.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Jarïle." The King laughed and rested a hand on Fonir's shoulder. You appreciated the genuine happiness from Ralin. It was a change from Earth's leaders. Though, he was actually doing a good job.

"I'll leave you two to discuss. We'll all talk at dinner tonight about what the future holds for the both of you. Alright?" You glanced up at him, noticing the 'alright' was more for you, than Fonir. You nodded after a small pause, giving him a slight smile. "Great. I'll see you two later."

Fonir gave his father a small wave before his hand was back on yours and he slowly pulled you to the throne. "So, this is..."

He didn't continue, so you did for him. "Tragic? Dreadful? Terrible? Horrible? Am I getting warmer?"

"Ice cold," he responded simply. "It's something."

"What's something supposed to mean?"

"It's something to get used to." His hand let go of yours and moved back so he could sit on the edge of the throne. "I didn't know being matched to me was that bad for you, Jarïle."

He was teasing you. You could hear it in his voice.

You wanted to bite back, but all you responded with was, "I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"How? By simply saying something that you could've very well been thinking? Don't tell me you expected to be matched with me, much less a human."

"I wasn't," He confirmed. "But that's because it hasn't happened. I'm more than happy to be the first of something."

You bit the inside of your cheek, thumb running along the mark on your wrist, pressing down every so slightly to test if it still hurt. "How's this gonna work?"

"What?"

"Us. Am I gonna have to quit my job and just...sit idle until you take the throne? Are we just going to play nice in front of camera and the moment it turns off things just go back to normal?" He gave you a look, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"And what's 'back to normal'?"

"You having an issue with me," You said, exasperated, knowing for a fact that it was obvious. "Ever since I came here, you've done nothing but try to stir stuff by teasing the living fuck out of me. Then you go ahead and decide to call me an affectionate term like we're friends and- and if you even thought that was ok, I would assume you'd be friend-"

He cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand. "That was me being friendly. You seriously thought I had an issue with you?"

You froze in your spot, not fighting him when he pulled you between his legs. "You're the first person that's treated me normally, even going as far as to threaten me with late fees. Jarïle, you're possibly the only human I'd feel completely comfortable being matched with. Everyone else treats me like I'm...like-...well never mind the word for it. You're not afraid to be you in front of me."

You tasted iron after biting down on the inside of your cheek harshly, but the pain of it didn't even process, your mind only trying to go through everything he said. "...Do you mean they treat you like china?"

"Is that all you got out of that?" He groaned. "Yes, I meant that, but c'mon, that can't be the only thing you have to say about what I said."

"It's not," you confessed. "I'm just...having a hard time understanding how I got how you felt about me so wrong. I'm usually good at reading people."

"Humans," Fonir corrected. "You're good at reading humans."

You felt like a child being scolded with how he was looking at you, for the tone that took hold every time he talked. But despite that, you still had at least some gall to ask, "...Would you be more comfortable if you got matched with a Horæl? You only mentioned human when you said that."

The braids that pushed his hair back earlier were doing nothing at that moment, framing his face as his crown was nowhere to be seen, but he still had the touch of nervousness he had earlier, and you wondered why he was the one nervous. "I didn't think they needed to be included."

"So you would be?"

"You like assuming things, don't you," he asked, and the slight smile that appeared on his face relaxed you ever-so-slightly. "Horæls also treat me like china, Jarïle. Even more than humans."

You nodded, eyes drifting from him before his hand grasped your chin and brought you back to him. "We have two years until I come of age to take the throne. Does that seem like enough time for you?"

"Do I have to quit my job?" Fonir chuckled in response.

"I don't see why you have to. Maybe when we start ruling, but you're free to do whatever you like." We. The word had your thoughts racing and freezing all at the same time. He wanted to do it with you, even after you actively disliking him, even when you thought he disliked you too.

He must've noticed the zoned out look on your face because he waved his free hand in front of it and tilted his head. "What's on your mind, Jarïle?"

"You said we when you were talking about ruling," you answered, voice quiet. "I thought you were the most irritating person alive and here you are...being overly nice to me."

"Well, considering that my teasing didn't do anything to make me seem nice, I might as well try a new approach," he joked. "And we're a match. Why wouldn't I say we?"

"I wouldn't expect you to want to rule with me," you said bluntly, though your voice was still just as quiet. "I've only been here for like...two and a half months and suddenly in two years I'm gonna rule? No one is going to like that."

"I like it," Fonir admits. "You can learn a lot in two years and...believe me when I say it, you're going to learn a lot if my father has any say."

"And here I thought, King Ralin was nice," you jested, allowing an unsure smile to grace your lips. It only got bigger when you saw him laugh, the sound ringing in your ears like a melody.

"My father is nice, but when it comes to the kingdom...he's pretty strict. We're going to be going through the same things, trust me."

You didn't think before your hand grabbed his, giving the slender thing a small squeeze. "I do."

The smile Fonir gave you when you said that sent your heart to the stars, and another laugh left him. "You spend two months hating my guts and here you are, saying you trust me."

"I found your smug expression and teasing annoying...I never hated your guts though."

He hums, a pleased expression on his face. "I guess today we're both learning something. Neither of us hate each other."

You nodded. "I guess we don't."

His hand squeezed yours as the other hand stayed on your chin, thumb right below your bottom lip even though you knew he could very well touch it if he wanted to. His touch was just as cool as earlier, which you appreciated given the lingering burning feeling in your arm and in your face, even if it was mainly in your cheeks.

Though, right as the moment had started, it ended just as fast, your phone ringing loudly from your back pocket. A groan flew from your lips as Fonir pulled his hands away, your hand making it to the phone that resided in your pants before seeing the contact picture, eyes widening when you see Jorik's face. "Shit, I forgot to call her."

"What? Forgot to call who?" You didn't answer him, simply answering the phone before bringing it to your ear.

"Hey," you said, carrying the 'y' for a few seconds.

"Out of two hundred humans, you happened to be the one that was his match." You winced at her words.

"...Word really carries around fast."

"Of course it does! You're the Prince's Jarïle! Not only did he know you before the meeting, he called you a pet name! Korlae, you're big now."

A breath left you, and you nodded, though you knew full well she couldn't see you. "Yea, I'm aware of that. Look, I was in the middle of something before you called..."

"Yea? Like what?" You met Fonir's eyes and used your pointer finger to tap your phone and then point to him, a silent question of if he wanted to take it.

When he caught on, a mischievous grin grew on his face and he nodded, letting you hand him your phone as he pulled it to his ear. He seemed to listen to Jorik for a long, drawn out moment before glancing at you. The both of you shrug at each other, though his was in response of you doing it to him.

"Hello?" Fonir said, unsure if doing so was even ok, but when you heard the faint talking stop, you let out a snort. He took it as a sign to keep going however, "I'm the something they were in the middle of...Jorik, right?"

You watched Fonir's eyes widen as he pressed his lips together and pulled back your phone, shoulders shaking with silenced laughter. "Did she..."

You drifted off, but the second you saw him nod you barked out a laugh, hand covering your mouth as you tried to muffle the sound. "Your friend just hung up on me."

Your hand dropped and you tipped your head forward, nodding as you cackled. "I've had people who were afraid to talk to me, but- but they hung up on me!"

With another nod, you knew that you weren't going to let Jorik forget what she did any time soon, especially when you heard your phone ring again.

-<><><><><><><>-

You sat at a table in the Capital's library, eyes focused on an Actaean history book as your tutor -who Ralin was very happy to give you- piled more books onto your already gigantic stack, sitting across from you. You refused to glance up at her, already knowing that there was going to be a smug smile on her face.

She wasn't mean, not in the slightest, but she was good at making you feel bad about knowing almost nothing about the planet and its history, which in turn made you feel stressed about ruling and that made you feel bad that Fonir got matched with someone so...stupid. And almost as if he knew you were thinking poorly of yourself, he came in, fast food bag in his long, slender hand. Your first-in-line.

That was the moment you glanced up, a relieved look overtaking your face as he glanced at the books, then over to you with a small smile. "Uiloi, you're working them to the bone. I cannot rule with a skeleton."

"There's only a year and a half left before you turn twenty-five, your highness."

"And in that time, and even after it, they can learn the boring history of this planet. Go take a break, get a drink from the shop down the street." It sounded like a suggestion, but his tone made it apparent that it wasn't, and so Uiloi was quick in standing and leaving the library.

Fonir set the bag down, pushing it in front of you before he moved the stack of books to the far side of the table, sitting in the seat next to you. You shot him a thankful smile and pushed your book aside. "Thanks..."

"You can tell her to stop, Jarïle, she's supposed to listen to you."

"I'd feel bad," you admitted. "...It doesn't seem like it's my place to order anyone around, much less the people that actually come from here."

Fonir pouted, hand grasping your chin gently before he leaned down just enough to leave a chaste kiss on your nose. "That'll pass when you get used to it all, it's only been six months, Jarïle."

"What if it doesn't pass?"

"Then I guess I'll have to be right beside you to reassure you that it's ok," he answered, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Out of everyone on my planet and yours, I'm extremely lucky for it to be you that I'm matched with."

"We met eight-" He cut you off, finger against your lips.

"Does it really matter how long it's been?" You wanted to argue, say that it does, but when you saw his expression and the soft look in his eyes, you knew you couldn't. Because it really didn't matter. Not to you at least.

After a begrudging huff, you shook your head, watching as the smile on his face grew and letting him leave another quick kiss, this time on your temple. "You wouldn't have won that argument even if you tried, Jarïle."

"I know," you said, breathing out through your nose. "I can never truly win an argument against you, you're too stubborn to accept that you were wrong."

"As are you, my little future ruler." Clicking your tongue, you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Shut it with the little alright? You guys are just freakishly tall." Fonir held a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"That's hurtful, Jarïle. Maybe we're the normal ones and you humans are the freakishly small ones, huh?" His dramatic tone made you laugh, one of your hands pushing the book in front of you away to grab at the fast food bag as the other pushed his arm gently. He smiled down at you, a proud expression on his face as he watched your attention divert to the bag now fully in front of you. “I could’ve had the cooks make something for you, you know?”

You shook your head, already halfway done pulling out the greasy fries in its little cardboard container. “I couldn’t make them do that.”

A sigh left him at your words, and you glanced over at Fonir. “What?”

“You think someone would take the fact that they’re going to be crowned royal in the near future and use it for their own good.” You snorted. “Like actual cooked meals rather than human’s ‘quick food’.”

“Hon’,” you started, “you should’ve seen what I ate in college. It was worse than fast food.”

His brows furrowed in response before he pursed his lips. “You worry me, Jarïle.”

Now it was your turn to look proud, a grin spreading across your face. “Gotta keep you on your toes, Princey.”

“You have many years in the future to do that, Jarïle, but I have to insist that when we’re wedded, you take care of yourself.”

“You saying fast food isn’t taking care of myself?” You knew it wasn’t, fast food actually got worse after it was able to move up here but you quickly got past it when you realized how cheap it was, especially when you refused to hear Fonir out about paying.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." You huffed a laugh and shook your head. It was cute how much he doted on you after such a short amount of time.

A knock against the table drew both of your attention towards the person that did it, your eyes drifting over Soran's form, meeting his smile with your own. "Hey, Sor'."

He waved, bowing his head towards Fonir before he looked at you again and jerked a thumb over his shoulder before pulling his hand back to sign, 'Jorik needs help with the book scanner, sorry to interrupt.'

You bit your lip, glancing over at Fonir before popping a fry in your mouth and standing. "I'll gotta help Jorik real quick."

You didn't think twice when you leaned down and pecked his cheek, only pulling back to round the table and walk beside Soran. "Say anything about the kiss and I'll fight you, Sor'."

'I didn't even do anything,' he signed quickly, eyebrows furrowed. 'So quick to assume.'

You glanced up to his face after you got what he was signing, cocking an eyebrow just slightly. "You want to say something about it, don't you."

There was a pause, but eventually he nodded, casting his gaze away from you when the both of you went behind the front desk. "Knew it."

"Knew what?" Jorik asked, simultaneously tapping a book against the scanner.

'Our modest librarian gave their match a scandalous kiss on the cheek,' Soran was quick to sign, not bothering to hide the teasing expression on his face.

Jorik set the book down to gasp dramatically. "Not a kiss on the cheek! Such a travesty, I thought you were better, Korlae."

You swatted at the both of them, swiping the book from the counter before knocking the scanner on the top. When you placed the book back under, ignoring the laugh that came from Jorik at your reaction, you heard the high-pitched beep. "There."

"How'd you-"

"You just gotta bop it on the top. It's like tech on Earth, if it doesn't work, you just have to abuse it a little." You shrugged, sneaking past Soran to the open side of the desk. "If you need anymore help, you know where to find me."

"And your Prince."

"Yes, and my Prince," you said without thinking, the words processing in your head as you swiftly shook it. "The Prince. I meant the Prince. Just call him by his name, Jorik."

“Sure you meant that, Korlae. Totally. Just like you two haven’t been conjoined at the hip with him ever since you were matched with him,” Jorik said, eyes boring two holes into you with a disbelieving but playful expression. “I’m surprised no one has caught you making out yet.”

Your eyes widened, a flush spreading across your cheeks as your face grew warm. “Jorik I’m going to wring your-“

“Ah ah,” she mock scolded you, waving a finger in the air. “None of that. Don’t make me bring over your beloved.”

You held your hands up, arms outreached as your fingers curled into your palms, an exasperated huff leaving you before you turned on your heel and left the desk.

You walked back to the table, falling into your chair with a heaving sigh as Fonir looked up from a book, one that wasn’t from the pile of history books, which means he must’ve grabbed it when you were gone. “What’s wrong, Jarïle? You seem upset.”

“I’m fine, Fonir,” you said, hand moving to pat his. “Jorik’s was just teasing me.”

“About?” You met his eyes, and it only took a couple seconds before it clicked. “Me?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “We’re apparently conjoined at the hip.”

He glanced down at his book and shut it after another second. “I wouldn’t say that she’s wrong saying it.”

“So you think it too?” You couldn’t help but ask it, but you knew the answer already.

“Well,” he started, holding onto the ‘l’ for a short moment, “we could spend more time together. You’re welcome to live at the castle.”

“Marry me first,” you laughed. “Give me a reason to make my commute to work longer, ‘kay?”

Fonir grabbed your hand, tipping his head down to kiss the back of it. “I fully intend on doing that…in a year.”

“You’re so quick for me to move in, but you won’t marry me.”

“I assumed that you’d want more time living separately. And it’d give you six months to get used to it all before your life is changed.”

“Because my life was completely normal now?” He shot you a look, and you merely leaned up to kiss his cheek again. “Normal’s boring anyway, match.”

You felt Fonir’s normally cool skin heat under your lips, and you pulled back to see the neon green flush along his cheeks. You knew what got him to be like that. It was you calling him match, that little nickname you jokingly called him three months ago. But when you saw how flushed and flustered it made him, you kept it.

“Match,” he repeated, just for you to nod. “My match.”

“Forever and ever, Fonir.”

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Part two

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primatechnosynthpop · 4 years

Note

#5 for the fluff/general prompts list (not sure if we're supposed to add a pairing too, but if so- Ducknirva)

It's been a few weeks since Minerva's arrival on earth, and the initial chaos of... everything that happened on that fateful day is finally slowing down. It's surprising how easily Duck adjusts to having his otherworldly mentor living in his apartment complex, now with the ability to barge in on him at any moment of the day. For the first few weeks, having her there honestly goes a long way in distracting him from the overwhelming grief and panic brought on by everything that happened.

After nearly a month of being on earth, Minerva understandably gets a little stir-crazy. She paces around Duck and Leo's apartments, her footfalls heavy enough that the downstairs neighbors start complaining about it. Eventually, after hearing her get up to pace around in the middle of the night for the fifth time in the span of two hours, Duck sits up in bed with a groan and pulls her aside for a chat in the hallway.

"Listen, Minnie, I know it's tough bein' cooped up in here," he tells her, laying a hand on her forearm (he would have gone for the shoulder, but she's so tall that he can't quite reach it). "But you don't exactly blend in with ordinary humans. And knowing how the folks around here reacted to finding out cryptids are real... I don't think they'd take too kindly to aliens either."

Minerva harrumphs, pulling herself up to her nearly seven-foot height and crossing her arms over her chest. Between her height, the very slight blueish tint to her skin, and her pointed ears, she must understand that she doesn't look ordinary. A twinge of guilt squeezes at Duck's heart for basically telling her she can't go out and interact with people, but what's he supposed to do? Letting people know about her could put her in danger, and that's the last thing he wants.

"I can disguise myself," she tells him. "And I have learned many things from observing you and your fellow humans! If you grant me the opportunity, Duck Newton, I can pass myself off as an ordinary citizen of earth."

Duck thinks it over for a minute, carefully looking her up and down. The bright blue tattoos are a bit unusual, but there's nothing inherently alien about them; her height and complexion could be passed off as being those of a normal human as well. The ears are easy enough to cover up. Her boisterous personality might be a little harder to conceal, but she does sound awfully confident in herself.

"Alright, then," he says after a long moment. "Tomorrow morning, we'll go out together, and I'll show you around the town. But you've gotta promise to play it cool, alright? Don't draw too much attention to yourself."

A broad grin breaks across Minerva's face, and she nods her head eagerly.

"I look forward to our outing greatly, Duck Newton!"

--The next day--

"This is the opposite of what I told you to do."

Minerva blinks up at Duck from where she sits on a park bench, holding an ice cream drumstick in one hand and petting a stray dog with the other. The beanie she put on to hide her ears has risen up, exposing the pointed tip of her left ear, and the button-up shirt and slacks she borrowed from Duck's wardrobe now sport a colourful array of scuff marks and grass stains. The top few buttons of the shirt have come undone, and for a moment Duck's gaze is drawn to her exposed cleavage, but he hastily looks away and focuses his line of sight on her face.

"I fail to see what you mean, Duck Newton," she says, but her gaze is lowered and her tone borders on a mumble; it's clear she realizes that she's made a few mistakes.

Sighing, Duck shakes his head and moves to sit next to her on the bench. The stray dogs hops off Minerva's lap when he sits down, and it scampers off down the sidewalk. It's late afternoon now, with the sky just beginning to turn orangey-pink, and there are a few other people out walking around, but the park is fairly empty at the moment. It's a good place to sit and talk, he thinks, and the frustration ignited by Minerva's attention-drawing behavior melts away as he takes in a few breaths of crisp evening air.

"Listen, Minerva," he begins, "I ain't mad at you. I get it, y'know? You spend so many years all by yourself, and a town full of people starts to look pretty exciting. I'm glad you had fun today, really."

He waits a moment, giving Minerva a chance to respond, but she says nothing. Her posture is visibly stiff, empty hand curled into a fist at her side even as she lifts her other hand to her mouth to take a bite out of her ice cream. Without really thinking about it, Duck lays his hand atop Minerva's. She flinches at the touch. Frowning, Duck retracts his hand and folds it in his lap before continuing to speak.

"You've gotta understand, if I thought the folks around here would be more accepting of you, I wouldn't have told you to... to not be yourself, because you're great the way you are, it's just..."

He trails off, letting his eyes fall shut with a heavy sigh and rubbing his temples. All of a sudden, he feels like he's the one in the wrong. Minerva has a way of doing that to him--mixing up his emotions, making him all confused about stuff that ought to be common sense.

"What I mean to say is, you didn't do anything wrong. It's that not all the citizens of Kepler are too eager to welcome an alien into their ranks. And I just don't want you exposing yourself to some idiots who are gonna have a problem with you. 'Cause, sure, you could probably take anyone here on in a fight," he adds, flashing her a weak attempt at a sly grin. "But word spreads fast around here, and if we had a whole angry mob on our hands, that might give even you a bit of trouble."

Minerva chuckles softly at that. She finally meets his gaze, lips curled into a melancholy smile and eyes glimmering with an emotion that Duck can't pinpoint. She reaches out to rest her hand on his leg, and for reasons he doesn't really understand, his skin heats up at the contact.

"I appreciate your concern for me, Duck Newton," she says. "And... and I apologize. It was foolish of me to act recklessly."

"Nah, it's fine," he assures her with a wave of his hand. "You didn't really cause any trouble today. Just, from now on, maybe be a bit more careful."

She nods, seeming to brighten up a bit. Relieved that things haven't escalated into an argument (because, god, the more time goes on the more he finds that he really can't stand arguing with Minerva) Duck returns her smile and gives her hand a quick squeeze.

They sit in companionable silence for a while, during which time Minerva gulps down the rest of her ice cream. Watching her chomp at it, holding the cone so hard that it cracks in her grip and the ice cream starts dribbling down her hands, something warm grows inside Duck's chest. He can't put a name to the feeling just yet, but it makes his smile grow wider until he's sure he looks like an absolute sap. He stifles a snort of bemusement when she starts licking her hands clean, but refrains from commenting. Really, he realizes, it's on him for not doing a better job of teaching her about earth customs. Before going out with her again, he'll have to give her a more thorough run-down on how to blend in.

Once she's done her ice cream, Minerva wipes her hands off on her pants and then claps them together, startling Duck back to attention.

"The sun is going down," she observes with a nod to the gradually darkening sky. "Shall we retire to the apartment building?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," Duck agrees. "One more thing before we go, though," he adds before she can get to her feet. "Your beanie got kinda crooked when you were rollin' around, playin' with the dog."

"Oh?" Minerva raises a hand to feel for the hat at the side of her head; her mouth quirks into a frown when her fingers curl around the hem. "Ah, I see! Then it's no wonder you were worried about other people looking at me strangely!"

She speaks in her typical energetic fashion, such that Duck can't quite tell whether or not she's making a joke, but something about just being in her presence coaxes a laugh from him anyway. He reaches over to gently tug the beanie back down over her ears, his fingers brushing against their pointed tips as he does so, and for the briefest moment he could swear that Minerva's cheeks darken. (He briefly considers pointing out the top buttons of her shirt as well, but that would mean acknowledging that he was looking at her chest, so he keeps quiet about that.)

They stand up, and to Duck's surprise, Minerva slips her hand into the crook of his arm as they go to leave the park. He surprises himself in turn by leaning into the touch, and Minerva hums in contentment. They walk in tandem down the sidewalk back toward the apartment, snow and dead leaves crunching under their shoes. And if other people stop to give them odd looks, Duck doesn't even notice.

#thank you for the prompt!! this was very fun to write #asks #scoobydoo-ghoulschool #taz #amnesty #hey did you know that i write stuff sometimes?

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