#I wish I could have found a way to translate the castle lights but still images like that don't translate well to gif format unfortunately

[gearbit]

Revolutionary Girl Utena 26 - Miki's Nest Box (The Sunlit Garden Arranged)

[luzlopesarts]

Some warnings + Chapter 1 Progress!!!!!

HELLO MY LOVELY STARS!!!

You didn't expect to see me updating KoW so soon, did you???

I usually post updates on Saturday or Sunday, but I'll be traveling so I decided to leave the previews today.

In fact, this trip is the warning I have to give. I will be away from my work desk and my materials for a few days (I don't know exactly how many but between one and two weeks), therefore I will not be able to make progress on the Comic during this period.

This is sad I know. But look on the bright side, I'm going to get a lot of rest and return to work with renewed energy!!!

✨YAYYYYYY !!!✨

Anyway, without further ado, let's get to what everyone wants to see:

THE CONTINUATION OF THE OUTLINES OF CHAPTER 1 OF "THE KINGDOM OF WISHES"

( Written by @annymation , design by @uva124 )

Check out part 1 here.

"The two brothers grew up and, with their father's teachings, became powerful sorcerers."

"But when the big day arrived, Florian was crowned king, as Magnus still didn't feel confident and claimed that something was missing in his life; something that gave him strength and courage!"

"It was then that Magnus met Amaya."

"The most beautiful maiden he had ever seen had been found adrift in a boat and taken shelter in the castle by order of King Florian."

"As a form of gratitude for the hospitality, Amaya began to serve the court as a royal alchemist and, as the days went by, she ended up winning Magnus' heart, finally making him feel like he could do...anything".

"Encouraged by his new love, Magnus decided to travel in search of adventure, leaving the kingdom to prosper in Florian's hands."

"But then, a tragedy happened. When Magnus returned to Rosas he discovered that his brother had passed away due to illness. A painful loss for the entire kingdom, which was made worse by Florian not having legitimate heirs"

"Magnus was moved. He could not let the magnificent legacy of his beloved brother and predecessors end like this."

"Feeling confident with Amaya by your side, Magnus took over the throne and changed the way wishes were granted monthly, doing dozens of them a week, making them float back to your Wish Makers, during the night"

The Kingdom was so happy and grateful that they began to name their new rulers with nicknames that reflected their magnificence and passion, thus making them known as King Magnífico and Queen Amable.

"The end".

Sabino: "I admire your taste in complex stories, Asha, but... Hmm...Don't you think this is too complicated for you?"

Asha: "I thought it was a fantasy book, but it's just romance. Yuck!”

Sabino: "Never judge a book by its cover, darling! What you have here is a history book."

Asha: "But he doesn't explain things very well.Where does Queen Amaya come from? And the king's staff?What disease did Florian die from?"

Sabino: "Well, Asha, let's see..."

"First, the queen is very private about her past, we have to respect that."

"Second. That staff is just a souvenir the king got on his travels."

Sabino: "And third. Sometimes bad things just... happen... without explanation."

"And there's nothing we can do about it."

"Unless you move on..."

To be continued...

FORGIVE FOR ENDING WITH AN ANGUISH DRAWING 🥺🥺

BUT DESPITE THAT, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!

And understood. Remembering that, like Anny, I'm Brazilian, but unlike her, I don't understand English and I'm always using Google translate, so maybe there are some mistakes. But Anny and you are always welcome to point out mistakes and correct me!

That's it for today and until after my little vacation Lmao 😅 I'll still be online to answer any questions or curiosities you may have, or simply to see posts and rewrites in which they mark me. I love interacting with this fun and tight-knit community of Wish Concept Art fans!

Anyway, goodbye!!

Kisses full of light and stars!

~Emy

[the-al-chemist]

The Beginning of a Symphony - Chapter 25

A/N: Héloïse finally speaks her mind, though it isn’t easy for her.

OCs mentioned: Shiv Llewelyn and Brady Pendleton @kc-and-co, Gwen Archeron @thatravenpuffwitch

Warnings: mild angst.

October 1896

The moon was already up as Héloïse climbed the steps of the Astronomy tower, its silvery light illuminating the staircase under her feet. Once she reached the top, she took a deep breath and leaned in the entrance to the parapet, looking out on the endless expanse of dark, starry sky. As she exhaled, the air fogged up in front of her.

The Astronomy tower was Héloïse’s favourite part of the castle, even more so at night. It was quiet, peaceful, and the view of the starlit sky was reassuring to her. When she had first arrived at Hogwarts, she had snuck up here several times a week, doing so less and less as she had grown increasingly accustomed to life at the castle. By the summer, she had only felt the need to escape to the tower on a monthly basis.

Now that she had returned from the long summer break, however, she had started to return more frequently, almost nightly, as she found herself feeling once more as if she were constantly treading water, entirely out of her depth, and near to drowning. Here, high above the castle with nothing but the stars and moon for company, was the only place she felt as if she could breathe easily.

Nothing was coming easily to Héloïse these days, much to her frustration. She had thought that she had started to learn the ways of this country and its people, its culture and its language, but after spending two months with her grandmother with nothing but weekly letters exchanged between herself and a handful of friends to practise her English, it was if every single bit of the progress she had made had been reversed. She was struggling to understand her peers, her professors, and her lessons. Every conversation, interaction, and lecture took an extraordinary amount of effort for her to attempt to understand, let alone try to make her own contributions, and she was having to spend hours in the library each night in an attempt to translate everything she was supposed to have learnt that day. The constant coding and decoding of each and every single word she heard and spoke was exhausting her, and yet, she could not sleep, no matter how tired she felt. And she was tired. So very tired.

A noise came from behind her - footsteps, followed by the sound of someone stumbling into a something metallic - and Héloïse turned to see Jim Hexley attempting to fix a telescope. She stiffened slightly. She had, until recently, thought Jim to be one of her few friends at the castle, however, since returning from the holidays, he always seemed to be uncomfortable talking to her. At first, she had thought that perhaps he was - like almost everyone else, or so it seemed - simply becoming impatient with how long it took her to understand and form words in English, however, just the day before, he had walked away from a conversation incredibly abruptly. After that, she had assumed that he perhaps no longer wished to be a friend to her. Then again, if that was the case, why had he come here?

Jim was still struggling to fix the telescope he had walked into, so Héloïse sighed and walked across to help him.

“I, um… It was an accident,” Jim said. “I didn’t mean… This won’t go back how it was.”

“Perhaps I am able to…” Héloïse sighed as she drew a blank. She gestured from the telescope, to the broken piece in Jim’s hand, and to herself. “I can to try, no?”

“No. I mean, yes. Yes, certainly.” He handed the piece to her. “Try away.”

“Away?”

“I… Er, as you see fit. As you like.”

Héloïse still was not certain what Jim meant precisely, but given that he had handed her the broken part of the telescope, she assumed that he did not actually wish for her to leave. She looked from the piece of equipment in her hand to the telescope, and quickly affixed it in the correct position.

“This is well now,” she told Jim.

“Yes, bravo. Brava, I should say. Jolly well done.” Héloïse did not feel at all jolly, but before she could find the words to tell him so, Jim cleared his throat to speak once more. “Er, Héloïse, I… Um, well, I thought that I should… I wanted to speak with you.”

“You wanted?” Héloïse frowned, disappointed by his use of the past tense, and Jim nodded earnestly.

“Yes. My actions yesterday, the way I walked away without saying… I was rather rude to you. I wished… That is, I do wish, to apologise to you. I am sorry. Je suis désolé, Héloïse.”

It took a moment for Héloïse to realise why she had become so suddenly able to understand what Jim was saying, and another moment for her to start to think in English again once she had recognised his - admittedly horribly accented - French. Unfortunately, her pause appeared to have been mistaken for a refusal to accept Jim’s apology, for his cheeks turned pink and he looked to the floor, his face crestfallen.

“You do not have to forgive me. I understand that my actions might… that I might have offended you. You have every right to be offended, I behaved dreadfully, and… If you do not wish to speak with me again, that is… Well, it is your prerogative, I suppose. I would not wish for that, but I dare say that I would deserve it. I just wanted to say sorry first, and now I have. Goodnight, Héloïse.”

He turned to leave, and Héloïse felt even more cast adrift than before.

“Jim, no,” she called after him, and he stopped. “I…” She exhaled loudly, letting out a deep sigh of frustration. “It is of nothing.”

“Sorry?”

“Yes. You are sorry. It is” - Héloïse shrugged - “of nothing. I am not in anger.”

“You are not?”

Héloïse shook her head, but as she did, she realised that, in fact, she was angry.

“Oh.” She frowned. “I suppose that yes, actually.”

Jim looked confused. “I… Um, sorry, but are you angry with me, or not?”

“Not you, no. Just angry.”

“Angry with what?”

“Everything,” Héloïse half-growled. “Everything here.”

“Here as in here, at Hogwarts?”

“Hogwarts and Scotland also, yes. I am angry, as you are saying, and also sad and… only.”

“Only?” A look of realisation passed over Jim’s face. “Ah. Lonely.” Héloïse closed her eyes, trying desperately not to cry from frustration. Jim cleared his throat. “Oh, no. No, do not… Please do not cry. You do not need to feel lonely, you have friends here, after all. Shiv and Gwen, and Brady, and… and me. You are not alone, and you mustn’t feel…”

“But I am feeling,” Héloïse threw her hands up by her shoulders. “I am feeling very much, but I am not knowing how to say it, and I am not knowing how to not… In French, I can say. And in France, I am not feeling this, because it is not here. I hate it here.”

“If you hate it here, why do you stay?”

“Because… I cannot to go.”

“Not back to Beauxbatons?” Jim asked and Héloïse shook her head. “Why not?”

“I have been… I do not know the English word. Exclue is the French.”

“Exclue… Expelled?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Héloïse shrugged. “I cannot to return, but am wishing I could. It misses me.” Jim looked confused. Héloïse narrowed her eyes. “I am saying this wrong, no? It is missing to me.”

“Uh, you miss it,” he corrected her, and she raised her eyes to the ceiling. “But that is quite… It is almost correct.”

“But I do not like this almost!”

“Yes, but…”

“No. Not ‘but’,” Héloïse snapped. “I am so… I have had so much of it. I cannot to understand or to speak, and when I try, it takes so long time, to have the words.”

“I understand that.”

“How can you to understand this?”

“Because of… Because I stutter. You must have noticed, that I… It takes a long time for me to, uh, find the right words to express what I…To say things as I wish. Sometimes, I think I have them, but it is as if… It feels as if they have been lost before they reach my lips. So I do understand a little, at least.”

“A little, maybe. But not all. Because you are needing to find your words, yes, but I am needing to understand yours before I can to choose mine. So I am slow, and all the world is thinking that this is because I am stupid.”

“I do not think that,” said Jim. “I think that you are really quite clever.”

“I am, but you are not knowing this.”

“I do know it.”

“No, you cannot to know it, because I cannot to make you,” Héloïse told him. “In French I am clever. You are not knowing how clever I am in French, or in Italian, Espanol, Latin, Catalan… No one is knowing this. They cannot, because I have not the words to… to make it known. And it is so” - Héloïse made her hands into fists, balled them up and showed them to Jim - “like this, no? I am so wanting for it to be known, and to make me known also. But I have not the words, so…”

As her words tailed off, Jim smiled encouragingly. “You will have the words, eventually.”

“No!”

“You will.”

“No, no,” Héloïse screwed up her face. “I have not finished to speak. This is why I say no, because I have more to speak, but you are… you are not… I am needing to find the words, you see?” She blinked back tears. “This is why you are not understanding. If you would to understand, you would not to talk when I have not finished talking.”

As Héloïse stopped talking, the room fell silent. Frustratingly so.

“Hein? Now you are not to say anything?”

“Sorry,” Jim said. “I did not know if I was allowed. You wanted me to wait until you had finished and I… Well, I thought that maybe you still had something to say.”

Héloïse narrowed her eyes at him. “You are mocking of me?”

“What? No! No, I would not… I am sorry. Very sorry, I’m fact. I did not mean to interrupt… to talk when you had not finished speaking. People do that to me, too, sometimes, and… I will endeavour to not do so in future.”

“What is ‘endeavour’?”

“Attempt. Try,” Jim explained, and Héloïse nodded. He cleared his throat. “That is presuming that… that you wish to continue to speak with me.”

“I am wishing, yes. I do not like to be so… lonely.”

“Good. I am glad,” said Jim. Héloïse smiled, just a little. “And, you know, if you like, I could try to speak French again.”

“I do not think that will be necessary.”

The words had escaped Héloïse without her meaning to, and as they left her lips, she realised how rude they sounded. Luckily, Jim appeared to find them amusing, or perhaps it was the guilty look on her face as she clapped a hand to her mouth that had tickled him, for he began to chuckle. And, for the first time in days, Héloïse found herself laughing, too.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Tame the Dragon

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!reader

Summary: After Daemon returns from Stepstones, he takes a fancy to you. Enjoying the excitement Daemon’s interest brings to you (and also wanting to take revenge from your mother), you decide you want to play with fire.

Warnings: I’m not a native English speaker, light smut-ish, strong language, incest, I used an online translator for High Valyrian

Taglist: @disneydaddyevans @mirandastuckinthe80s

A/N: Thank you all so much for the interest you’ve shown for the first part!!! I wanted the smut to be in this one, but it ended up getting so long that I had to divide the second part into two. So, the next part contains only smut -trust me, it’ll be worth the wait (: Oh, and if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! Enjoyyy

|Part 2|

A cool wind was blowing within the corridors of the Red Keep and causing you to shiver as you walked towards the Great Hall with quick steps, your arms wrapped around your torso. Even though he was keeping his distance, you could still hear the faint clanging coming from Ser Ryden’s armour -it was so late that silence had finally wrapped its slender arms around the castle, embracing it like a mother holding her child close to her chest.

The massive, wooden doors leading into the Great Hall were, as always, wide open. However, other than the moonlight shining through the huge window behind the Iron Throne, the place was completely dark. And empty -except for him.

He stood there, in front of the Iron Throne, his back facing the wooden doors. The moonlight illuminating the Great Hall melted as it touched his silver hair, giving it an unearthly glow. Even though he, too, was in his nightwear -a simple, white shirt and brown trousers, he looked simply breath-taking as he, with slow movements, turned his head back to look at you upon hearing your footsteps approaching him.

The edge of Daemon’s lips curled upwards as his purple eyes found yours.

“You may wait outside, Ser Ryden.” You spoke quietly while you casted a quick look at him over your shoulder, giving him a soft nod. “It’s okay.”

Ser Ryden’s eyes turned to Daemon for a brief moment, then he left the Great Hall, leaving you two alone.

You fixed your eyes on the Iron Throne as you stood next to Daemon under the moonlight, trying your best not to recall your dream or the dirty thoughts that have been messing with your head ever since he had returned from Stepstones. However, having him standing right next to you and being able to feel the heat radiating off his body was only making it harder.

“Couldn’t sleep?” The Rogue Prince asked you, turning his head left to look at you.

You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes. “I was having the nicest of dreams,” while speaking, the images from your dream started playing in front of your closed eyes. You could feel your skin getting warmer each passing second. “Then I woke up, and I realised it was just a dream.”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and turned your head to face Daemon. The moonlight was caressing his face as if it were a tender touch. You couldn’t help yourself but sigh at the sight in front of you -he was beautiful, he was alluring, and simply with the look he gave you, he was able to sweep you off your feet.

“A dream so wonderful that had you wishing for it to be real, hm? Now that is something I would want to hear.” Daemon told you, causing heat to rush to your cheeks. You were glad that the moonlight was faint enough to hide your blushed cheeks.

“Īlen dāez.” You spoke in High Valyrian. “Daor bēmagon, daor dīnilūks…” [I was free. No leash, no marriage…].

“Hm, I see.” Daemon murmured and pushed a strand of silver hair behind your ear. “I heard it didn’t go well with your mother yesterday.”

Pressing your lips against each other, you nodded slowly. “She wants to send me to Casterly Rock as soon as possible. This is her way of punishing me… for being me.” Your voice faded away at the end, you had to swallow to destroy the lump that dared to form in your throat.

Yesterday, after your encounter with Daemon at the Dragonpit, you had one of the biggest fights with your mother, which ended up in her trying to speed up the whole marriage nonsense so that she would get rid of you as fast as she could.

“Daemon, I…” You began to speak but the intense look inside his eyes made you gasp for a moment. “I don’t want to leave. I… I have thought that maybe I could, somehow, benefit from this marriage with Jason Lannister but… But leaving King’s Landing…” You started to shake your head. “No. I cannot do that. I do not want to.”

Daemon began to caress your hair with his right hand, causing you to take a deep breath. His touch had a rather calming effect on you at that moment. “Shh, Y/N, take it easy,” his soothing voice was only a whisper when he spoke. Carefully, the hand caressing your hair moved to your neck as Daemon ran his fingers over the Valyrian steel of your necklace. A few years ago, he had given it to you as a present after one of his adventures across the Narrow Sea. Placing his hand on the back of your neck, he looked down at you. “We can find a way.”

You could feel his warm breath against your forehead.

“How?” You asked him, then, intentionally, you let your eyes linger on his lips for a short while -which was long enough for him to notice -and turned it to his purple eyes once again. “Unless you can somehow prevent me from becoming the lady wife of some fucked-up lord…”

A small laugh escaped his lips and you found yourself helplessly admiring the sound. “You have to become the lady wife of some lord someday, Princess, you cannot run from that. Even I couldn’t do it -avoid getting married.” You let out a laughter upon hearing his words. “Marriage is a duty, yes, but it needn’t be the end of all that is… fun.”

He had been slowly leaning into you while he spoke, making use of the height difference between you two in such an attractive way that turned you on even more. He was dangerously close to you so that your chest was brushing against his every time you inhaled. Still, he intended to keep the damned little distance between his lips and yours.

You took a deep breath upon feeling his left thumb running along your lower lip.

“What are you trying to imply, my Prince?” You asked with a low voice, his thumb was still on your lower lip while you spoke.

Just for a moment, it seemed as if Daemon was leaning into you but before you could close your eyes and embrace what was to come, he withdrew his hands and stepped back. Your violet eyes followed him as he walked towards one of the huge columns onto your left. With a confused look in your eyes, you followed him.

“I’m saying that if your stay in King’s Landing after the marriage can, somehow, be arranged, then the rest can be easily taken care of.”

You stood to his right with a frown on your face, you found it hard to understand the meaning between his words. “Issi ao otāpagon nūmāzma ossēnagon se Lānistor valītsos?” You asked in High Valyrian, preferring to switch to your mother tongue so that no one in the earshot (other than your family, of course) would understand you. “To soothe my marital headache?” [Are you planning to kill the Lannister boy?]

Daemon threw his head back and let out a sincere laughter, which made you smile without even noticing. He looked gorgeous and you had to hold onto your will as hard as you could not to pull him down into a kiss.

“No, my dear Y/N, I’d rather not start a war between the Targaryens and the Lannisters -which would have me banished by my brother, again, and at the moment, I intend to remain here, at King’s Landing.”

For a few seconds, Daemon kept quiet as his eyes studied the eerie figures on the walls which were caused by the shadows.

“Marriage is a political arrangement, you see,” he began to speak with a low voice which was full of sex appeal. “But,” turning right to face you, he raised his right hand to caress your hair. Then, slowly, he let it slide down until it rested on your waist. “It doesn’t hinder us from doing what we want.”

You were taken aback by the eerie resemblance between the present moment and your dream. As he pulled yourself against his chest, you found yourself muttering the exact same words as he did.

“From fucking who we want.” You both said at the same time.

Daemon raised an eyebrow. “Exactly,” he was looking down at you with a mischievous look inside his purple eyes. “Now, tell me, Princess Y/N, what is it that you want?”

You stood there, inside his arms, for a while to think about what to do next. It was for a fact that you had rather taken after your Uncle Daemon, hence the label Unruly Princess; however, you still tended to calculate your moves instead of acting impulsively.

You knew you wanted him. You could feel it in your skin whenever he touched you, you could feel it in the way your pulse quickened when he was close to you, and you could feel it in the heath growing between your legs. However, you also knew that it was wrong for he was married, and you were betrothed. If you were to be seen with him, the rumours around the castle would only complicate everything.

But not for me, you thought as your eyes shamelessly feasted on Daemon’s handsome features, shamelessly lingered on his lips. If things were to get complicated about this whole fucking marriage nonsense, it would only upset my mother.

Maybe, if I was to be seen with Daemon, I would not have to marry Jason fucking Lannister at all, since this ‘scandal’ would disrupt my mother’s entire plan to send me away.

You were sure Daemon could easily notice the change in the look inside your violet eyes as the thoughtful look left its place to a decisive one. Then, without any second thoughts, you raised to your fingertips and pressed your lips against his.

For a brief moment, you stood there but upon realising that he wasn’t returning the kiss -on the contrary, he was smirking into the kiss -you pulled yourself back so that you could look at him.

Upon seeing the questioning expression on your face, Daemon’s smirk grew. “You still haven’t answered my question, Princess.”

So, he wants to play, you thought as you licked your lower lip. Then, instead of standing on your fingertips this time, you pulled Daemon down towards you, gently, from his collar. “Jaelan ao, Daemon.” You whispered against his lips in High Valyrian and took his lower lip between your teeth. Even though both of his hands were holding you from your waist, he still did nothing as he stood still. [I want you, Daemon.]

“Ao jorrāelagon naejot sagon mirrī tolī qantre, dārilaros.” Daemon whispered as you let his lower lip go. The fact that he was enjoying this little game was turning you on even more. [You need to be a little more specific, Princess.]

Well, he, too, was quite turned on as you could easily feel the bulge in his pants gradually growing every time your lips touched his skin.

You brought your lips near his left ear before whispering in a lustful tone, your left hand wrapped around his neck. “I want you to run your hands along my naked body.” After whispering, you left a kiss on his neck, letting your lips purposefully linger there longer than they needed to. Then, you whispered in his ear once again. “I want your lips to leave their mark on every spot on my skin.” Again, you kissed his neck -gently sucking on the flesh this time, Daemon took a deep breath -and your lips returned to his ear. “I want you to bury yourself deep within me,”

This time, instead of letting your lips meet his skin, you raised your head from the crook of his neck to look at him. His purple eyes were darkened with desire, “and fuck me like an animal.”

Letting out a grunt, Daemon held you from your neck and pulled you into a kiss, pressing his lips against yours. You immediately returned it as your eyes closed instinctually and you pressed him more against yourself. The kiss was hot, eager, and passionate -as you kissed each other hungrily, Daemon licked your lower lip for entrance.

You opened out your lips, giving him the entrance he desired. While he let his tongue slide into your mouth, meeting with yours in half-way, he made you walk back until you felt your back resting against one of the columns. You shivered upon feeling the cold stone against your skin -you hadn't even realise that your black robe was already on the floor.

Daemon ran his hands on your silk nightgown along your body as he kissed you hungrily. You cupped his face with your right hand while running the long nails of the other one on the back of his neck. Slowly, Daemon’s lips left yours as he left kisses here and there on your face, then his soft lips moved to your neck as his right hand slid underneath your nightgown, resting on your right inner thigh. A silent moan escaped your lips when Daemon held your breast over the cloth with his other hand and took your already hardened nipple between his fingers.

“Daemon,” you breathed out his name, causing him to groan against your neck. You could feel his erection pressing against your lower stomach. “Please.”

He raised his head to look into your eyes as he spoke. “Please what, Y/N?”

You bit your lower lip, the fingers of his hand on your inner thigh were climbing up slowly. “Fuck me,” you literally begged him.

Of course, you knew how much of an effect you had on him; however, he was so damn good at containing himself. “Patience, my love.” Daemon whispered as he brushed his lips against yours. When you tried to pull him into a kiss, he withdrew himself and pulled both of his hands back, causing you to whine. The edge of his lips curled upwards, a cocky smirk inhabiting his lips. “I will fuck you, but not here, though I must confess, the idea is quite tempting.” You took a deep breath as Daemon pushed a strand of silver hair behind your ear, letting his fingers brush against your face. “The idea of being seen here as I fuck you, so that every little, fucked-up Lord here, on King’s Landing, will know that you are only mine to touch.”

You could swear that you were soaking wet down there, the warmth in your core could easily compete with that of the dragon inside you.

“But,” Daemon whispered as he stepped back, “I’d rather hear you cry out my name without the need to keep quiet. Wait for me in your chambers, Princess, I won’t be long.”

[chocominnie]

One Last Time 02  —  Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00   01

⇢ Word Count : 

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots. 

A missed call from your uncle. 

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb.  She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong. 

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at  Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

 “You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’.  As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a  little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.” 

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “  You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. 

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead.  A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door.  You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

[volturiwolf]

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 1)

A/N: This is the first Volturi- and Twilight-related story I ever started writing and it is quite long and elaborated/complex, as I tend to overanalyze in many parts. I have wrote a few parts until now and I'll be uploading them in the future. I have been quite emotional throughout writing it, trying to understand the reader's point of view.

A/N 2: I'm sorry if something doesn't make sense. English is not my first language. I also include Italian through the story, with translation, but I'm not a native or a speaker, so I'd like to apologize in advance to those who speak Italian. Enjoy :)

A/N 3: According to "The Amagi" on Youtube, Felix was born in 250 BC (their thumbnail), so I used that in my story.

No of Words: about 5347

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My heart felt heavy. I may have just escaped the cruelest vampire of all, but I also ran away from the love of my life, my mate, the only person who could fully understand me in this world. I asked him to run away with me, but, although our bond was strong, he felt obliged to stay loyal to his master, his creator. I drove as fast as I could, away from the sunny Volterra, and away from him.

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(Y/N) grew up quite privileged, in Vampire terms. Being born into the Volturi coven was something many vampires could only dream about. (Y/N) was abandoned by her parents when she was a baby, but Aro, one of the three Volturi leaders, took her under his protection, and offered her more things than she could ever have imagined. After all, she was his only biological granddaughter, the “Volturi princess”, an heiress to the throne; her mother lost that “privilege” when she met and fell in love with a wizard.

(Y/N)’s mother soon got pregnant with her, and then later turned her husband into a vampire to help her with her pregnancy, and stay together forever. However, (Y/N)’s parents couldn’t raise her because they wanted to run free and careless, not commit to anything permanent, so Aro took over and raised his granddaughter with the highest honors and privileges, “as a princess should be raised”.

(Y/N) was a mix of Vampire, Witch and Human, due to the grandmother, Sulpicia, being human when Aro found her; Sulpicia later fell pregnant with (Y/N)’s mother, and Aro transformed her to vampire, as he had planned all along. Aro raised (Y/N) according to his own rules and morals, teaching her how to kill humans to feed from, how to attack and slip away from her opponents, how to lead other vampires, and most importantly, how to keep her identity and existence a secret, not only to humans, but other non-Volturi vampires as well. No one could know that there was a possibility of a vampire having a child with a human, and that the child could be effectively controlled and raised as a regular vampire.

As (Y/N) grew older and older, reaching the human age of 25 within 7 years of her birth, Aro would spend more and more time with her, examining and studying her possibilities and her potential powers’ development. (Y/N) grew up to be extremely strong and fast, an excellent tracker with great intelligence and understanding of the world around her. However, Aro could not risk sending her to “Volturi duties”. She was his hope for a stronger coven; with (Y/N) in the throne, Aro felt like he could conquer the vampire world with ease.

That’s why he was always searching for the best guards he could find, to protect the coven and do his work instead of himself, Caius, or (Y/N). He couldn’t rely on Marcus, as he proved to be too emotional since Didyme died, but was still valuable for his plan. Caius, on the other hand, although powerless, was far more sadistic and “diligent” in following vampire rules, and (Y/N)... (Y/N) was just too obedient, following every order Aro gave her - a strong asset for the Volturi.

Aro was changing guards and trackers quite easily, disposing them when they were no longer needed or when he found better ones. He needed talented and strong vampires to serve the coven and do their work.

Chelsea was the very first vampire Aro created solely to serve the Volturi, after recognizing her potential when she was human. Chelsea’s gift of relationship manipulation was truly useful in bringing new vampires into the coven and was used thousands of times during Volturi's reign. It could also easily dispose of them, making their bonds with other vampires break at will; those vampires were isolated by the other vampires and then killed - Aro couldn’t risk letting them get away knowing the Volturi’s secrets and life.

About 100 years later, Corin joined the Volturi, just a couple decades after (Y/N)’s birth. Corin’s gift of addictive contentment was the one which kept Marcus in the Volturi after Didyme’s death - along with Chelsea’s to make him committed to Aro’s greater plans, and was also used on Sulpicia, Athenadora and any other vampire in the Volturi guard to keep them satisfied being in the Volturi. Under Aro’s instructions, Corin was keeping Chelsea content with being in the Volturi, and Chelsea was keeping Corin loyal to them, each of them using their gifts against each other, without their knowledge.

Sometime between 230 and 220 BC, while travelling in Rome, searching for additional vampires to add to the coven, Aro supposedly met a young, strong and ambitious fighter, who wished to become a gladiator one day, named Felix. Felix did not only look, but also was physically capable of fighting even with beasts, during his short time as a fighter, way before the Colosseum was built. Born into a poor family, his strength was his only way of making money, and becoming a gladiator was his only way out of poverty, a way to provide for both his family and himself.

When his family was almost imprisoned by Roman army officers for outstanding debts, Felix was forced to make a deal with them to fight, in whatever they ordered him to. Fighting turned out to be the only way for Felix to deal with his emotions and rage towards people in power. When Aro approached Felix, he was promised a good life, where he wouldn’t have to worry about surviving another day. Felix did not seem willing enough, not being fond of the idea of serving people in power, who he so despised.

Luckily for Aro, Chelsea was the one who “convinced” Felix to join the Volturi guard, with Aro changing him afterwards. Unlike previous guards, Felix showed impeccable strength, speed and talent towards both dodging and initiating attacks, eventually making him a permanent member in the Volturi Guard, along with Chelsea and Corin.

Felix was assigned as the leading guard for the three kings’ protection, this role extending to the protection of their two wives and (Y/N); though Aro knew that, if it came to anyone attacking his granddaughter, she would be able to handle it by herself. However, he still wanted to make sure that she was safe and that Aro would do anything to protect her.

For about a couple millennias, (Y/N) was content with her situation, being the “Volturi princess” and all that. Besides, having Felix in the Volturi was another reason to stay in the coven, apart from staying loyal and true to Aro for taking her in, when she was abandoned.

Every time Felix looked into her eyes, she felt her whole body burn - though, it wasn’t a feeling of suffering, rather a feeling of longing, waiting for something to happen so badly that her body couldn’t control itself. Although she was partially a vampire, (Y/N) would feel like she couldn’t breathe, like her legs were ready to give up on her, like she wanted to grab Felix and never let go.

Felix, although not admitting it even to himself, would feel the same way, but he knew that his position would not allow him to approach (Y/N) in such a way. He was just a guard - although he was the strongest of them all, and she was the Volturi princess, one of his masters, whom he was only allowed to approach in order to protect. He didn’t want Aro to know he saw his granddaughter like that; it could cost him his position in the guard, or even his life. So, he kept these feelings deep within him, not allowing them to resurface, or act upon them.

However, every time these two existed at the same place, the invisible sparks between them would fly left and right. And only one vampire was able to see them. One who hadn’t felt these sparks in centuries.

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(Y/N)’s POV:

I yawned loudly as I woke from a long, much needed sleep. I was the only vampire around who was able to sleep, mostly due to my non-vampire natures. I didn't really need to sleep on a regular basis, but when I did, I could literally sleep 3 days straight and nobody would be able to wake me up. “For my own protection”, as Aro said, I would always have at least two guards outside of my room’s door, in case anything happened while I was sleeping. Like what could even happen? My room was at the furthest side of this huge castle. I’m pretty sure that if there ever was an attack against the Volturi, it would most probably have been dealt with immediately, and the attacker wouldn’t make it anywhere near my room.

I felt the warm sun on my skin, slightly glowing and sparkling beautifully. My eyes, mostly (Y/E/C) with a golden ring around the pupil, could easily adjust to the light. Unlike the other vampires, I could easily live among humans; I could sleep, eat human food, my skin not being as sparkly as others, and I could control my thirst far better than others.

Since Jane and Alec joined the coven, Aro would show an immense interest in them and their skills, helping them train daily and develop their powers further, eventually forgetting about me. I would spend more and more days away from the castle, “protected” by my anonymity, getting to know humans more and more. The longer I was observing them, the more they would trigger my interest in them. They could feel true emotions, real pain, real hurt, real love. They had their families, they received an unconditional love that I could never have.

Unbeknownst to Aro or anyone else for that matter, I have started developing new powers, similar to the other vampires in the Volturi coven or anyone else outside of it. I have also started noticing that I may have an immunity towards others’ talents, feeling that neither Corin’s addictive contentment made me satisfied with being in the Volturi, nor Chelsea’s relationship manipulation could keep me loyal to Aro anymore. If it weren’t for Felix, or Demetri and the Twins, who have all become my best friends by now, I would have probably left.

A vampire named Carlisle Cullen had visited the Volturi and stayed with us for a while, about 100 years ago. He saw the way the Volturi treated humans like they were nothing, and how they were as cruel as to kill other vampires, with the excuse that they were exposing our kind with the way they lived. Entire covens had been wiped out due to such excuses, a way to eliminate potential enemies from becoming too powerful and find as many talented vampires as possible and force them to join the Volturi.

Carlisle was talking about a new way of life, where vampires wouldn’t have to kill humans to survive, a life where vampires and humans could live in peace, without harming each other. He was insisting that vampires could survive on animal blood just as efficiently as with human blood; that animal blood would not make them weaker, and that it would be a much more ethical and sustainable way to feed.

Of course, Aro and Caius were the first ones to mock his proposition, clearly not caring about humans’ feelings and pain. Marcus did not budge at all, his heartache making him indifferent to anything around him. But I was growing more and more interested in this alternative way of life; I was, after all, feeding on human food already, so that I was feeding on human blood as little as I could.

It was a few years after Carlisle left Volterra that Eleazar joined the Volturi. Aro forced him to join after finding out he could detect if someone had any special ability. Aro considered his gift useful in identifying if any of his enemies had any special power when in battles, or when he sent Eleazar around the world to recruit talented vampires.

Eleazar was clearly not liking the way the Volturi forced their ways and wants on others, and how they could take advantage of others for their own benefit. I could just sense that he was displeased and was forcing himself to stay in the coven, one, due to Corin’s and Chelsea’s gifts, and two, out of fear of what could happen to him and his mate, Carmen.

Carmen, a vampire from Spain, like Eleazar, met with Eleazar while he was a guard here, they fell in love, and eventually, Eleazar decided to leave the Volturi and run away with Carmen. Aro decided that he did not care about him and his gift as much as others’, so he let him go unharmed, “blessing” them for safe travels.

Just a few days before he left, I consulted him on my own powers. Though a lower member of the guard, Eleazar had his own room, a decent place to stay, and spend his endless hours in. I knocked slightly on the door.

“Come in”, a calm voice was heard. I opened the door and came into his room. Carmen was sitting on the edge of their bed and Eleazar was reading a book on his desk. They both smiled sweetly. I just felt and knew they were too nice to fit anywhere in here, among the cruel and strict Volturi.

“(Y/N)! So nice to see you!”Carmen exclaimed and stood to hug me. The second we hugged I started seeing parts of her life in Spain, the calm waters of Catalunya, the vast vineyards where she would spend the early years of her life… I quickly detached myself from her embrace. I just couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She and Eleazar both looked at me worried, as if I had offended them.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t let you “show” me your whole life like that!” I looked at Carmen apologetically.

“(Y/N), you saw Carmen’s life?” Eleazar continued, intrigued by my words.

“That’s why I came to talk to you. I..I feel like I’ve been developing a gift, or a few gifts, to be completely honest. And I feel like.. like I have a specific power one day, and another power the next!” I stated frantically.

It was the first time I have openly talked about my powers to anyone, and I was shaking just by the words that came out of my mouth. Eleazar did not say anything, he just stood there for a few minutes, I supposed “examining” me, as if a doctor checking on a patient.

“Remarkable.” He said calmly. He looked at his mate with excitement, as if he just discovered a lost treasure. “(Y/N) has one of the most remarkable gifts I have ever seen.” He then turned to me. “You, (Y/N), are able to copy anyone else’s gifts and keep them as your own. You don’t even have to be in contact with them. Just by meeting someone, you can obtain their powers. I have never met anyone like that. You also seem to have obtained immunity to others’ powers, kind of like a shield. I have met such vampires before. From the stories Aro has been telling, your mother was like that. It is likely that you copied that gift for her. Such vampires are extremely useful to themselves or even others, in battles. Like themselves, you can use your gift to protect others from others’ powers, beside yourself.”

That came too sudden to my ears. I have assumed that I may have at least one power, but I didn’t realise I could copy others’ powers. That is why I was showing signs of Aro’s power!

“How can I train my powers? Eleazar! Carmen! You have to help me!”

“As you know, we will be leaving soon. I don’t know if there will be enough time to train you.”

“It’s okay. We will train as much as you want. Please, Eleazar! Please, Carmen!” I started begging them. As if they were hypnotized, they quickly looked at each other and agreed to help me.

The next few days, before Eleazar and Carmen’s departure, included intense training, far away from Volterra, deep in the woods, where no human could interrupt us. I couldn’t say the same for vampires, but I hoped nobody would cross paths with us. Eleazar and Carmen helped me develop my self-control and self-awareness, concentrating through the deepest parts of my mind, resurfacing my shield and expanding it beyond my existence. I started to have control over it, as if it was an actual solid substance, a veil floating around me towards any direction I ordered it to go.

After Eleazar and Carmen left, I started travelling the world more, trying to copy as many powers as I could come across with, while also training my shield. My excitement for the endless possibilities was what kept me going - kind of when Aro would add another talented vampire to his Guard. His Guard. Felix. I wonder how he was. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wondered if he thought of me like I thought of him.

After travelling pretty much anywhere I could reach, I eventually went back to where it all started: I went to Greece. Aro met Sulpicia here, apparently my mom met my dad here. Maybe I could find out, understand why they left me. I have never met them, but I felt as if my tracking skills could detect them through my own existence.

I started travelling through the country, hoping that they stayed here or, at least, that they’re alive. I spent about 2 or 3 years in Greece, trying to take in every different place, while also avoiding the battles that seemed to take place in every other corner. I was feeding off animals mainly, mostly when I couldn’t find any other human food. I was washing myself in rivers, streams, whatever I could find.

I was stopping by any village that seemed to be still standing, asking about the current situation. The Greek Revolution, which started a few years ago, seemed to still be going on. The Ottomans, who had been occupying Greece for almost 400 years, could not allow Greeks to turn against them and start claiming their rights within the Ottoman Empire.

Many Greeks I met and talked to, admitted that some of the Ottomans were actually being nice to them; it was only the Ottoman government ordering their armies to execute massive massacres against Greeks, and after all this time, a few Greeks started gathering up and planning a revolution, away from Greece, in fear of being caught. They started getting organized and finding possible allies to help them with the Revolution; they just couldn’t risk getting caught within the country that they were hoping the independent Greece could become. The battles were becoming more and more intense, both on the mainland, as well as on the islands.

I started looking for answers, anything that could suggest that my parents were still alive and somewhere in Greece. To my surprise, I crossed paths with many Greek nomad vampires all over the country. They were also fighting against either Ottoman vampires or each other for territorial claims; however, they all talked me out of travelling north, towards Macedonia. The region had started being reclaimed back by Greek humans, but vampires were also seeing the potential for the area and they fought against each other for the land.

All of the nomads I encountered were talking about some of the most vicious vampires claiming the land, their enemies being literally slaughtered and burned to set an example for other vampires to back off their territory. I was intrigued, and I knew that, most probably, I would be able to deal with them or flee before they got to me.

So, I started travelling north, through the woods and mountains, in order to avoid any possible battle between humans, though many of them seemed to hide in the mountains, preparing for their battles. Macedonia was a quite big and vast region, so I had to travel quite a few days and search every possible corner.

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I was feeling exhausted from all the searching. I haven’t fed in quite some time, and my throat was burning by the familiar need for blood. I haven’t seen any animals all these days, and I was wondering if they were gone or hiding.

Sadly, I came across a human. He seemed to be wounded, probably during a battle, his blood gushing out of his body. I couldn’t help myself, when I breathed in the smell, the burning sensation becoming unbearable. I thought of approaching him slowly, so as not to scare him, offering to help him, but deep down I just wanted to feed off of him.

“Γειά! Συγνώμη αν σε τρόμαξα. Σε είδα από μακριά. Μπορώ να σε βοηθήσω με κάποιο τρόπο; (Hey! Sorry if I scared you. I saw you from afar. Can I help you in any way?)” I offered calmly.

The man was trying to suppress his growls. I could sense his pain. I tried to help him stand on his feet, and then I saw all of his memories. He was in the army, fighting alongside Greeks against the Ottomans, in Macedonia, just outside of Thessaloniki. I didn’t even know I was so close to a city, let alone Thessaloniki.

He was trying to pass through the woods, when he came across what seemed to be two red-eyed vampires, one male and one female. They tried to attack him, but someone else managed to shoot him first, forcing the two vampires to run away. I don’t know how or why, these two felt familiar to me, I could feel that through his memories.

“Γειά! Μπορείς.. Μπορείς να πας στο κοντινότερο χωριό; Νομίζω.. Νομίζω ότι είδα κάτι στο δάσος, δε νομίζω ότι ήταν κάτι φυσιολογικό! Πρέπει.. Πρέπει να προειδοποιήσω τους άλλους! (Hey! Can.. Can you get me to the nearest village? I think.. I think I saw something in the woods, I don’t think it was something normal! I have.. I have to warn the others!)” He mumbled in between sharp shoots of pain.

“Με συγχωρείς πολύ! (I’m really sorry!)” I plead with guilty eyes. I put my hand in his wound, searching for the bullet, while he was consumed by pain. I took the bullet out of the wound, and quickly attached my lips on his skin, sucking the blood as fast as I could, biting deeply unintentionally. His screams were becoming louder and louder, so I covered his mouth with my hand, while trying to shut him up or break his jaw. A few seconds later, he stopped screaming, and I let his lifeless body fall, completely numb and drained out of blood.

I felt renewed, his blood travelling to every part of my body and giving me a new kind of strength that I haven’t felt in a while. I still felt guilty for killing him, but he was already wounded and I couldn’t risk him exposing our kind to others. I assumed that whoever found him - if anyone found him - would also assume that he died of blood loss, so I tried to position him in a realistic pose for that purpose, as best as I could. I left him there, and continued the search for my parents.

--------------------------------------------------------

I was running through the woods, trying to locate the two vampires from the guy’s memories. My mind was chaotic, I wasn’t thinking about something specific. I stopped in my tracks. What Aro taught me, and what I understood from Demetri’s tracking skills, is that you have to stop, take a breath and realize your position in the world. Then, you would be able to realize everything around you and find your targets. I have successfully found other vampires like that before, vampires who I have either met in person or smelled their scent, but I didn’t know if I could find someone through someone else’s memories of them.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as best as I could, focusing on the smaller details of the guy’s memories of these vampires. I felt two vampires running on my west, about 10 kilometers away, and I ran after them. They were running fast, but I was way faster. Within a minute or two, I was running right behind their tracks. They must have realized that a stranger was following them, but, instead of running, they suddenly stopped. I stopped as well, and we were now facing each other.

The female had long, brunette, curly hair, and the male short, dark brown, straight hair; both of their hair looked shiny, healthy, and rich. They were of average height and their eyes were piercing red, as if they also fed quite recently. The female was exceptionally beautiful and enchanting; I could only compare her to Heidi’s exceptional beauty. The male looked quite stoic and austere, though still beautiful.

Both of them on defensive positions, waiting for me to attack. I wasn’t planning to move any further from my position; I was only waiting for their own reactions. I felt that kind of a burning sensation within me again, like a feeling buried deep inside me, trying to find an escape.

Suddenly, the male growled at me, flames springing out of his hands, and being thrown at me. I felt my heart fall out of my chest, fearing that this would be my end. As if my body reacted on its own, I felt my own shield extending out of my body, building a wall around me and protecting me from the male’s attack. My hands started burning and flames came out, ready to counterattack the male. The male looked at the female, dumbfounded by what he witnessed, still in a defensive position, but ready to attack again.

“I’M NOT HERE TO FIGHT YOU!” I shouted at both of them. “I’M JUST SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE!”

The male shrinked back, the female following close by. “Who are you looking for? We haven’t seen you around. Who are you? Why are you here?” The male requested. His voice serious, but smooth at the same time; a voice I could only describe as the warm earth below their bare feet.

“No, I’m not. I come from Italy, though I think I was born around here. My name is (Y/N), I’m looking for my parents. I don’t quite remember what they look like, but I’m pretty sure that they lived around here. They abandoned me when I was a baby.”

“This has been our territory for almost 3 millennials! We would have known if any humans abandoned their offspring around here!” The female exclaimed, as if she didn’t believe a word I said. I didn’t want to tell them the whole story, but I had to show them that I didn’t mean to fight in any way.

“I never said they were humans. My mother was actually sort of a vampire, like you.”

The female started letting her guards down. “What do you mean sort of? I’ve never heard of a “sort of vampire” before!” She continued doubtfully.

“Believe me or don’t, my mother was born half vampire, half human. My dad wasn’t even a vampire before she met him. He wasn’t even human to be honest.” My eyes started stinging slightly. I could have had a good, happy life if they didn’t abandon me. I wouldn’t have to grow up with Aro.

“You said you were from Italy.” I nodded at the male, as he continued. “You never said where exactly.”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell them my real origin; I wouldn’t like them to know I was a Volturi, but I knew I needed help to find my parents. If they were actually here as long as they say, they might have known or met my parents at some point.

“Volterra. I was born here, in Greece, like my mother, but grew up in Volterra with my grandparents.” I looked down, kind of scared, kind of anxious, waiting for their next move.

The female gasped. “Are you a Volturi?!” I looked at her, straight in the eyes, swallowed, and nodded. “I know the Volturi. Who are your grandparents?”

“Aro and Sulpicia.” I answered so quietly that, if they weren’t vampires, they wouldn’t have heard me, my voice trembling slightly.

The female suddenly fell on her knees, the male wrapping his arms around her, comforting her. I didn’t know what was going on. Did I say something wrong? Were they scared? The sheer mention of the Volturi would scare a lot of vampires, but I thought that maybe these two seemed strong enough to deal with them.

The female started sobbing, no tears coming out of her red eyes, her body shaking. I felt something within me break. I felt that I didn’t want to upset them, that’s why I was hesitant in telling them who I really was. The male looked at me, pain in his eyes. I saw a familiar look. I saw me in his eyes, what I looked at in my mirror anytime I was thinking about my parents, or, sometimes, when I thought of Felix.

“Are you a half witch?” The male asked quietly. Something snapped in me. How would he know that?

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to your mate! I DIDN’T!” I shouted at the male. I didn’t want him to think that I would hurt his mate, or himself.

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s just..” He looked at his mate who had stopped sobbing, but was still down on her knees, unable to stand up. “..my mate is Aro and Sulpicia Volturi’s only daughter.”

My body tensed and shivered. If that woman is the only daughter Aro and Sulpicia ever had...could that mean..?

I took a few steps back. “AM I YOUR DAUGHTER? ARE YOU MY PARENTS?” I looked at them in disbelief.

Those were the people who abandoned me! That let me grow parentless, under Aro’s rules and directions! I was breathing heavily, in between sobs. I didn’t even realize that I set my whole body ablaze, until both vampires looked at me shocked. I didn’t feel any pain, but I couldn’t stop the flames licking my body, and in my frantic state, I started panicking even more.

The male started approaching me slowly, trying to not scare me away. “Shush, shush. You’re okay. You’re doing okay. I know how it feels at first. You’re experiencing some aspects of the life as a witch. It’s okay. Close your eyes and picture the flames in your head.” I closed my eyes and tried concentrating on the flames. “Now, imagine them burning out, becoming smaller and weaker.” I focused on the flames, imagining them weakening. After a few minutes, I felt them getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappearing. I opened my eyes slowly.

The female was standing next to the male, watching me carefully. In a quick motion, she pulled me and embraced me, stroking my hair lightly. I breathed in her scent, a mix of mountain flowers and the saltiness of the sea. Her touch was soft, and filled me up with what felt like a thousand different emotions.

But, I mostly felt safe. It was the first time in my life that I actually felt this safe. And whole. I felt like I actually belonged somewhere. I hugged her back. Tears started spilling from my eyes. That was my mom! That was actually my mom! After all this time, we were finally together. I felt the male, my dad, hugging both of us, and in that moment, I felt my legs giving up on me, and I finally fell into a long sleep.

[reidecorating]

L'amore Vero È Così (True Love is Like This)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader  

A/N: Woke up with a killer headache after celebrating the end of 2020 and thought writing something loosely based off events that took place on NYE would be a good cure. Hope this year’s been treating you all well!

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Summer nights and Spencer Reid make it hard for anyone to keep their hands to themselves. Add David Rossi’s holiday mansion and wine to the mix, and watch a dangerously hot fuse ignite

Warnings: Language (as in cursing AND me just completely butchering Italian), unprotected sex, penetrative sex

Masterlist

Maybe it was the Sauternes. Like a spark igniting along the fuse of dynamite, the sweet sting of white grape travelled down her throat, every sip exploding in kaleidoscopic vision and unfiltered words. Even so, it wasn’t the alcohol she was drunk on. No, not drunk - she wasn’t drunk - she was absolutely intoxicated. Not by anything of substance, but by an overwhelming desire for the man she had arrived with. 

Spencer Reid often felt out of place standing in any absurdly large entranceway, belonging to the old Italian with new money, recurrently settling for shifting from shoe to shoe, before taking a deep breath and pressing the doorbell with the hand unoccupied by a bottle he wouldn’t be drinking from. However, his sobriety was far from the cause of his imposter syndrome. Rather, it was the way he always arrived alone, while, what felt like, the rest of the team trickled in with their spouses or significant others. Whilst pairs would dance to vinyl sounds of Bowie, leaving little room for him and the odd number his presence formed in the abacus of the group, he would loiter in a corner, or, on occasion, entertain his godson with a pack of cards. More frequently, he would rattle off excuses about needing the restroom, only to spend his time exploring the corridors of a rather impressive house. A get together at David Rossi’s holiday home was uncommon, and the last time Spencer had wound up here, he found himself inspecting the tiny forgotten library the man housed, attempting to decipher the various foreign books residing on its mahogany shelves as he heard his friends stumbling their way through the Salsa downstairs. L'isola di Arturo, with sterling lettering on its ageing spine showing a familiar pen name, had quickly become his favourite. When he’d first translated the pages, he had chuckled at the parallels between himself and its disconsolate protagonist. However, after years of his ongoing solitude, and lonely arrivals to a castle full of people, he finally had someone on his arm. 

“Wait, what does this mean? I can make out the ‘amore’ but not much else,” That someone now squinted at the words his index finger underlined as he read her the words of that very book, aloud. “Hm?” He was visibly distracted by the Patchouli blend of orange and jasmine emanating from her skin as she leaned against his shoulder to read the page herself. “L'amore vero è così,” she whispered, unsure of the correct pronunciation but attempting it anyway. “Non ha nessuno scopo e nessuna ragione, e non si sottomette a nessun potere fuorché alla grazia umana,” she finished in a whisper, affecting Spencer in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Through fluttering eyelashes, she looked up at him, awaiting his rendition, and suddenly the temperature felt as if it had risen. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here almost as many times as him; she knew her way around Rossi’s holiday home, but Spencer had insisted on showing her his favourite room, claiming she hadn’t seen it yet. Diverting her attention from Emily’s anecdotes, “I kind of want you all to myself for a little bit,” he whispered in a kiss on her shoulder, proceeding to take her hand and pull her away from chatter over a jug of Cuban rum and homemade pizza - making sure to dissect, in explanation, nearly every painting adorning the maze of hallways on their short trek. He cleared his throat, prying his gaze away from the skin her little black dress revealed, unabashedly scanning her lips before using his own to form words. “True love is like this,” he subtly eyed her reaction to his words as he tried hard to not transliterate the European language. “It has no purpose and no reason, and it does not submit to any power except human grace.” Spencer’s voice was a newly inked quill, ebbing and flowing through the hot air of the dimly lit room. The dark winged butterflies that had been floating around her stomach all evening fluttered in a frenzy at his words, and the way the chartreuse of his eyes had been absorbed by black as they laid on her. “For such a dark story, it’s so beautiful,” she exhaled in a hushed tone, stare not leaving his as he slowly slid the book into the hollow slot where it had previously inhabited, too occupied by reading her demeanour to pay the book any more attention. “You think so? The author, Morante, Elsa Morante, was actually considered the greatest writer of Italy’s postwar generation, at one point.” Spencer began to rest his weight against the wall as they conversed. “I feel as if we always hear about Bassani or Parise, and all the unorthodox things Landolfi wrote in the fifties. It’s very refreshing to hear of a woman getting some well deserved recognition in such a male dominated niche,” she remarked. A dimple appeared on Spencer’s cheek as he grinned at the way she sounded a lot like him. “Agreed. In fact, Morante actually claimed she wished she’d been born a boy, so that she could have all of these heroic adventures. Once, when she was asked about the hero of that book,” he pointed towards the worn copy of L'isola di Arturo, “she commented: ‘Arturo, c’est moi!’,” 

“Living vicariously through him? Interesting,” she tilted her head slightly, “I also think its remarkable how beauty can emerge from so much pain,” she mulled aloud. His eyebrows raised at her words and the flux in her tone of voice. Slowly, she stepped towards him, forearms resting on his shoulders, entangling behind him. 

Earlier, she’d had the privilege of styling him as he stood in front of their shared mirror, muttering complaints of how he had 'nothing to wear’. Now, she repeated maledictions to herself regarding the clothing she had chosen, in her head, as she admired the way his black shirt was rolled up at the sleeves - displaying intricate nerves shadowing his fingers and arms - and simultaneously unbuttoned temptingly low on his chest, exposing the silver chain presenting a small initial, hers. The summer night had made sure a thin veil of sweat coated his collarbones, glistening with his movements under the lamp light. “It’s not a surprising process though - I mean, after the year you’ve had, just look at how pretty you are,”

“Did you just-” he gulped, chuckling, “use the copious amounts of semi-resolved trauma I harbour to romance me?”

“I may have,” she whispered into the skin below his ear, both hands now tangled in his hair as he remained pressed up against the wall, grateful that every wound, fight and flaw had led them here. And she never ceased to make her gratitude known. Tonight, though, ever since she’d caught sight of his hand gripping a cold glass, the strong concoction presumably belonging to Luke, she hadn’t been able to stop envisioning his body on top of hers. Unbeknownst to her, his thoughts had been very similar from the second she’d chosen to wear the satin fabric, claiming it matched his shirt, while leaving very little to the imagination. “Y/N,” he spoke, his body involuntarily leaning into hers. “We can’t- Not now.” His body language betrayed his words. “I don’t study behaviour for a living, unlike everyone else here, but Spencer, right now, yours tells me we can,” she brought down a hand to squeeze his wrist, which was resting against her lower back. He couldn’t breathe. Tongue in cheek, he shook his head at her, a smirk breaking way. “You, my pretty lady, are something else,” he caved, switching their position in a more urgent manoeuvre than either of them anticipated. Spencer’s hands grasped her jaw, his breath fanning over her before his lips collided with hers, messily. A hand cradled the back of her head, heeding any impact with the wooden blockade behind her, fingers and hair tangling together. Her hands travelled along his body, pinky tugging on his necklace in pursuit of closeness, while her lips roamed around his bobbing Adam’s apple, eliciting an exquisite string of moans. Spencer’s leg wedged itself between hers, slowly grazing his thigh against her, using a firm grip to guide her hips downwards, her soft sighs and tugs at his roots only encouraging him. 

The euphoria was short lived. A rapping on the library door tore them apart, its hinges creaking and giving way to an astounded looking Penelope Garcia. “Naughty!” she factitiously gasped. “I didn’t think the good doctor and his fine missus had it in them, but I was very, very wrong,”

“We were just-“ Y/N began, only to be cut off by the tipsy agent. “Save the excuses, beautiful lady. I was simply quested to find you two, and let you know that the rest of us are off to take a dip in the spa. Bring your boy toy, and scrumptious self, and join us ASAP - oh! And no funny business! There are children here,” Penelope gestured her two fingers away from her spectacles and towards each of them as a silent threat of ‘I’m watching you’. Y/N and Spencer exchanged a look, both flushed in different shades of red, on their way to creating a colour wheel. As Penelope spun on her heels and rushed to shut the door behind her, “Thank you, Penelope!” Y/N squeaked, Spencer exclaiming a timid “And sorry!” The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter, still frazzled. “I think I’m getting a little too comfortable with your team,” she grimaced, earning a laugh from the doctor. Later, as Spencer led her towards a bathroom, her arms occupied by a stack of towels, his hand on the small of her back, he dreaded the amount of self control he would need to invoke when the two of them would undress to change. 

What she had said wasn’t entirely untrue. She was indeed very comfortable with his team. If Spencer could have met himself, a year ago, anxious to introduce who he was sure was the love of his life to his dearest friends, he would flick himself in the head. She, not alarmingly, managed to get along with everyone, almost better than he did. Somehow managing to find common ground, even with Aaron Hotchner. He recalls, one night, months ago, listening to her and the usually stoic man debate about which broadway production was better: The Producers or The Phantom of the Opera. Spencer also recalls exactly how riled up he became as he watched her put the ex-theatric-gone-lawyer in his place after calling upon Spencer for some Tony Award statistics. Admittedly, he actively needed to combat the green eyed monster on his back whenever she would go jogging with Luke - but the way she kissed him before leaving, on her tiptoes in her running shoes, whispering ‘I love you’, and ‘I’m really only going for Roxy’, helped. She had become family, the invisible stamp of approval having been silently awarded when they all saw the looks the two of them shared, the three subtle squeezes in their woven hands, and the way Spencer now smiled with his teeth - the way they way they would move the moon and the earth for one another. 

Packed into the watery sauna, words exchanged between the group travelled into the atmosphere, a waxing gibbous eavesdropping overhead. She watched as Spencer squirmed across from her at the nearness to so many sweaty bodies, shoulders, elbows, knees and toes, belonging to anybody and everybody, poking him. Her eyes trailed along the dips and swells at the base of his neck, decorated in its usual, dainty, shimmering pendant, the bones there protruding as he slouched forward. Spencer’s hair was matted, condensation ironing chestnut ringlets to his forehead, complimenting his heated crimson cheeks. The butterflies returned, her stomach flipping as he ran his hand through the mop of curls to ease his discomfort. More of him - that was what she wanted. She hadn’t noticed, but she had been biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Pulling her back from her thoughts, a heavy exhale travelled past her left ear, changing the course of the steam emerging from the water - a stream of air enough to deflate a person, she noticed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” The blonde rested her head against the barrier of the tub, seeing bright patterns on her eyelids as they shut over her eyes momentarily. Y/N reached over and grasped one of her shoulders in a clinical manner. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jennifer and the gruelling tension in her neck and jaw?” She interrogated, lightheartedly. “What can I say? Stress is my middle name,” she chuckled. “While we’re on the topic, though... Maybe you could give me one of those trigger-point massages,” she opened one eye, an iris burning sapphire, the blue only rival to that of the one from The Tell Tale Heart, finding Y/N’s face. Retreating her hand, having made her point, she let out a laugh at JJ’s words, “I’m afraid that’ll cost y-” Y/N’s eyes widened at the familiar dialect of the words, a charlatan on JJ’s tongue. “Wait a minute, can you repeat what you just said, but slowly?” 

“Oh, I know you heard me perfectly clear,” JJ smirked at her, eyebrows raising as her eyes shifted between the flustered woman and Spencer. 

They had a friendship of unfamiliar closeness, which JJ cherished. After nights of babysitting turning into wining with Merlot and dining on flaming dreaded cheese puffs, stashed away in an airtight container, upon JJ’s arrival home, the two had grown close. The agent was grateful for conversation veering away from work, and for someone seeing her from a different lens; one through which she wasn’t fizzled down to a petrie dish of a mother through a workaholic microscope. Y/N was curious to know how her famous mandatory-Spencer-de-stressing-trigger-point massages had come up in conversation between JJ and her, now guilty looking, boyfriend. She crossed her fingers in hopes that he’d spared the details of the events that usually took place following the neck rubs - another kind of de-stressing altogether. “Do you guys hear that? I think Will’s calling me- and I should go put Henry to bed… It’s quite late…” she exaggerated, wearing a redolent expression as she slunk away with a towel around her cold frame. “We’ll talk later, Jareau,” she looked up at JJ, after the shivering woman squeezed her shoulders in a bid goodnight, waving to the small crowd. Swiftly, Y/N’s gaze met Spencer’s, her figure not having left his vision once. 

The yard and small pool was clearing out, save for Luke and Tara bickering in the corner, so, through the bubbling water, she waded in Spencer’s direction, noticing the way he was evidently mentally undressing her. As if by his telepathy, a thin strap of her bathing suit slipped from its place, causing the gears in Spencer’s head to stop turning as he swallowed thickly. “Hey handsome, long time no speak.” A soft smile graced his lips, adoration for her evident, in place of his muted response. Wordlessly, he slipped a finger beneath the strap, tentatively putting it back in place, refusing to break eye contact in some unspoken play for power. “What’re you up to?” She squinted, wondering exactly what his motives were. “Nothing much,” he pulled her closer by the waist, whispering in a gravelly voice only she could hear, “I’m just thinking about how you didn’t get the chance to finish what you started, earlier,”

“Are you implying that you want me to…” she floated onto his lap, hands draping around his neck to steady herself, “pick up where we left off?” The question left her mouth in a breathy whisper, straight into his ear. He turned to look at her, unblinking. “I’m implying, that I’ve had those pretty noises you make replaying in my head all night, and that I’d like to hear them again,”

“Remind me, doctor, which one of us said ‘we can’t’?,” she mocked his whine, rolling her eyes back. “I have a better suggestion, how about you remind me which one of us struggled to stand the last time we played this game?” The calmness of his voice was the antithesis of the fire she was feeling inside her. Satisfied with her speechlessness, his eyes drifted down her body as she pried herself off him, settling in the plastic indent of a hot tub seat to his side. The attention of the pair of lovers were drawn to Tara’s laughter as she stepped into a robe, calling it a night. “What’d we miss?” Spencer’s clueless innocence returned, as if the words he’d spoken before were now out of mind. Devilishly, Tara responded, “Oh, you know, just me completely destroying this man’s ego,”

“Doesn’t take much does it?” Y/N offered Tara her fist in solidarity. “No it does not,” Tara chuckled, bumping it with her own. “You guys do realise that I’m right here?” Luke scoffed, also drying himself off. “I think that adds to their point?” Spencer offered, pursing his lips, amused. “Well, I’m going to go and catch some sleep, and maybe even shed a few tears over what’s been said about me,” he playfully scowled at Tara walking away, throwing a middle finger at him through the air without looking back. “Trust me, they are very professional,” Spencer promised, turning towards his only remaining company in laughter. “I’m sure they are,” she joked returning a smile. 

The two of them talked beneath an ink sky, stars like pinpricks in a blanket twinkling through their conversation, until she found herself on Spencer’s lap, once again, the ambience shifting to something far more carnal. Throughout the night, like a band of elastic stretching between two fingers, the tension between them had heightened. Now, they both tested the limits, anticipating its snap. His chlorine skin tasted electric on her tongue as she painted his neck and chest with a lilac rendition of the silver initial dangling there, letting his sighs catch in the shells of her ears. Allowing her tongue to explore his mouth, his hands tightened around her waist. “Mhm, no, Y/N,” he spoke, regaining his fleeting conscience. “This,” — kiss — “is a bad,” — kiss — “idea,”

“Spencer, look,” she glanced over at the house, and his eyes followed suite, craning his neck slightly. “What do you see?” She asked. “Aside from a house bigger than my entire apartment complex?” Her face was a deadpan. “All the lights are out, Spencer,” she gave him a look that said, come on, profiler, figure it out. Not a single connection formed in his head as he stared at the way the luminous blue of the night time water cast ripples on her skin - skin which was all over his. “All the lights are out… It’s late… and everyone’s asleep,” he reasoned, more to himself than in response to her insinuation. “We have no real chance of getting caught, plus…” her dark eyes were obscured by the eyelashes sheltering them as she tilted her head. “Would it be so bad if we did?” Two of her fingers danced along his chest, walking towards the damp hair at the nape of his neck, using the strands to pull him closer. “Everyone knowing exactly how good you make me feel?” She purred the last part in his ear, tugging at the cartilage with her teeth. Spencer partially whimpered. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous boy. You sound as good as you taste.” His eyes shut as his head hit the rim of the spa - only briefly losing himself once her mouth was on him again. “Someone’s talking like they’re in charge,” he tilted her chin up towards him, forcing her eyes onto his own. “I seem to be the one doing all the work here,” she teased. He kissed each of her collarbones, eyes still trained on hers. “You shouldn’t speak so soon.” With that, he undid the top of her swim suit, exposing her chest to the frigid night air, compelling a gasp. “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about doing this a majority of the night.” The bass in his voice reached her core. “For someone who is so fastidious about cleanliness, you sure have a dirty, dirty mind, doct-” She never had the chance to finish the honorific, his lips moulding around a hardening nipple, allowing his fingers to toy with the other. Rolling his tongue around the bud, he smiled to himself as he heard her call out his name, over and over, as if her voice was coming through a scratched vinyl. “Where’s all the talk from before?”

“You’re evil,” she groaned, her hips bucking against his board short clad body. 

Spencers lips travelled along the valley of her breasts, only to hike back up them at a tantalising pace, prehensile fingers covering the ground his mouth couldn’t. Her hands grasped so tight in his hair, he was sure the strands would fall out. A groan of his own left vibrations reverberating through her body, causing her heart to jump. “Alright, you’ve had your fun,” he gnarred, as his hands gripped her wrists, holding them behind her back. With his unoccupied hand, he dipped his fingers into what was left of her apparel. “Is this all for me?” He smirked at the ease with which his fingers slipped over her. “Don’t flatter yourself, we’re in water,”

“You’re so impolite - even when I’m spoiling you,” tutted Spencer. Retroceding his hand, determined to leave her on edge, and her skin a mirror image of his, he continued to pin her fragile hands back against the base of her spine. “S-Spencer, please,” her words struggled to make any sense, “please, I need more,” she panted out, moving purposefully along the growing outline in his shorts. The pleasure was overwhelming. Spencer fiddled with the material still covering her, pulling it aside to make way for himself in between her legs. His eyes softened, silently seeking permission, even as she impatiently pulled down his waistband. When she nodded and eased his ailing with a soft, lingering kiss, he slowly pushed himself into her, never failing to be acutely attentive to her comfort as if it was their first time together. “This was what you were after?” Teased Spencer, his hips speeding up. “So badly,” she uttered out a sigh. “Then take it like you want it.” She craved his adept touch, and she made that known. “S- Spencer, oh god,” she groaned, “you feel so fucking good.” His breathing became heavier, softs grunts and hisses filling her ears with every movement. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whining in a destitute way at the full feeling. At a slower pace, one of Spencer’s hands guided her hips along himself, while the other traced infinity on her sensitive nerves. “Sweet girl- fuck, you feel like a dream,” he moaned as she tightened around him. Her toes curled, the warm water of the pool splashing her bare skin. Spencer occupied all of her senses, the same way she did his. “I’m so close,” she whimpered, before he used his nose to nudge her face upwards, her momentarily open eyes reflecting constellations. Spencer kissed her once more. Her hands long freed from his grip, she left traces of herself in the form of tiny red sickles on his freckled back as her nails released some frustration. 

Dragging her fingers along his torso, she felt the muscles of his stomach tighten, hers doing the same. Shaky sighs wavered from her lips at the bliss Spencer was providing. “Keep your eyes open for me, angel,” she tried her hardest to focus on his lustfully blown pupils. “That’s it. Just look at what you do to me,” he gasped out, head falling backwards, eye contact broken - only for a second - before he gulped and looked back at her. “You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, hoarsely, stroking his sweaty cheekbone with her thumb.  She could recognise the golden gates of heaven in his eyes as he came undone inside her, warmth spilling over her in every aspect. The knots in her stomach loosened shortly after his, curses spilling from both of them. She rode him through his release, fond of the way he left light kisses on her temple, whispering compliments and confessions of love. Once he was sure she’d caught her breath, and some air had returned to his own lungs, he kissed her, gently, in the summer sauna heat, beneath the stars.

A loud cough startled the two. Stood in the open French doors of the veranda, scotch in hand, and eyes screwed shut, was David Rossi. Their minds were in the same place, wondering why they hadn't listened to Penelope’s drunken advice. “When you two are done, please remember to turn the tub lights off - and put the filter on high.” She hid herself in Spencer’s chest, heartbeat in her ears, contemplating holding her breath for a really, really long time. Spencer was flushed red, his own nose buried in her neck so as to not face the older man. “Or better yet, put some money together to buy me an entirely new spa,” Rossi, laughed, opening one eye to catch sight of Spencer giving him a shameful thumbs up. Even as Rossi wandered away, their embarrassment remained a fresh burn. Spencer groaned as her tired hand fumbled with his disastrous hair, “I don’t even want to begin thinking about how much of that he heard,”

“Or saw,”

“Don’t!”

“I’m never going to be invited here ever again, am I?”

[pollylynn]

Title: Petition WC: 1000 Episode: Bad Santa (7 x 10)


As soon as he breaks the news, her mind latches on to two things: The shadowed, muted expression on his face after she’d proudly read her six rhyming lines—the one she’s only recognized, in retrospect, as devastated—and the utter conviction that this is all her fault. 


She’s sure the expression will be her constant companion from here on out. She’s sure that he is permanently devastated, but that’s not true. She should have known it wouldn’t be true. He is eternally resilient. He is sad in the days following the precinct party, and why wouldn’t he be. She is sad, the boys are sad. Hell, even Gates is … well, sad may be stretching it, but she’s not dancing in the bullpen, at least not when Kate’s around. 


It’s impossible not to be sad that they’ve lost such a huge part of their lives, their love story.But he is resilient. So every time she has to leave, there’s a smile and a sack lunch to go with a kiss at the door. Or there’s lunch money from his wallet the day he makes a show of pretending that he’s been so deep in writer mode that he forgot his sacred duty. There’s some pointed thinking out loud about all the wildly complex Christmas dessert possibilities he now has the time to devote his attention to. 


It’s all a product of the fact that he is the most thoughtful ludicrously self-centered person that she knows. He knows she’s sad and he won’t add to that sadness. He will, even in the bouts of melancholy and self pity that still admittedly spring up, do everything he can to make it better, even if she deserves it. Not that he knows she deserves it. Not that he knows this is all her fault. 


She’d made a wish. In that one instant, holding one of a thousand ornaments, she’d made a silent wish that he could just … turn it down a notch. Or maybe turn it down once in a while. Or something. She’d raised one fleeting prayer to whom it may concern that something would happen, some miracle would offer the merest bit of relief from his relentless Christmas cheer.


It all comes down to the poem—to that damned stupid thing that she’d barely even gotten to be proud of for two seconds. That damned stupid thing that will go down as her first entry into the Castle Family Christmas Archive. 
She’d gotten into her own head about it, sometime back when he first brought it up. She’d gotten so into her own head about it that—paging Doctor Freud—she’d pushed all awareness right out of her head until that moment, the one with the ornament and the firelight and her and Alexis and Martha laughing quietly at him from a distance. 


She’s making too much of it. It’s a moment that would have slipped by on the river of all the other moments that make up the thread of her life now, if only he hadn’t asked about the poem—about her debut in the family Christmas card. If only family and Christmas hadn’t jangled so unexpectedly together, she’s not sure she’d have marked that moment at all. 


But now her stupid head has built it up into everything—the moment she inched her way forward, all on her own, into the Christmas spirit, the moment she found she no longer needed to force the smile, the laughter, the genuine pleasure in being here, surrounded by her family as the shortest night of the year draws close. She has manufactured this moment where a simple question, a simple reminder of something she’d known about for months, snuffed out the timid, flickering flame in her soul and she’d made her wicked little wish. 


I wish he’d just … 


And the universe had answered with Dino Scarpella. It had answered with him providing Detective-Beckett-to-Mob-Don translation services in a strip club that had gone all out for the holidays. It had answered with a wildly out-of-season Romeo and Juliet and a dirty cop, deceased. It had answered with that shadowed, muted expression on his face, an omen of things to come, a moment never to be, before they’d even had a chance to light up the precinct Christmas tree. 


The universe had answered a wish she’d made in a weak moment, one that endured all because she is no good at this—at accepting that she has stretched and grown and, yes, she has the Christmas spirit. She has long since let herself be reeled into the insistent embrace of his family, his traditions, his over-the-top commitment to all things Christmas. And she’s no good at making herself see that none of that is any kind of betrayal of her mom, her loss, the family she was born to. 


That’s the epiphany that comes in the middle of the night before the night before Christmas. Nothing in the joy she’s found here, in this family she has made, could ever be a betrayal. She wakes him up to tell him about it, to spill what can only be a bewildering confession into the darkness. She prods his thigh with her knee, his ribs with her fingers. He blinks awake, his eyes blue and wide and happy. 


“Did Santa come?” He mutters. It’s an act. He knows full well the complicated Santa timeline that will unfold over the next thirty-six hours. 


She means to confess her wicked little wish, to make him say that it’s not her fault. But his eyes are blue and wide and happy, and she kisses him instead. She clambers on top of him in the stupid red-and-green-striped footie pajamas she knows he never dreamed she would actually wear, which is the only reason she’s wearing them. She kisses him. 


“No Santa yet,” she whispers. “But what about a head start on the best Christmas ever?” 


A/N: Nothing will behave right now. Why would lack of morphousness behave? It has not behaved. 


images via homeofthenutty

[darkimaginarydesires]

Obsession (Part II) ▪︎ Dark!James Potter x Reader

《 harry potter fandom • dark!james potter x reader • marauders era 》

☆ you are responsible for your media consumption. this content has extreme warnings / triggers. this content may make some people uncomfortable. please be safe and take warnings seriously. if you need help or need to talk to someone, i am available for anyone ☆

♡ warnings: noncon/dubcon, sexual obsession, delusional obsession, physical abuse, mentions of death, definitely 18+ ♡

《 summary: when the reader does not reciprocate love for James Potter, he snaps into a complete delusional obsession with her. 》

○ part one: ○

-

James had fallen asleep holding you. You don't know how you managed to get away from him without him waking up, but you did. You ran harder than you'd ever ran before. Partly from fear, but partly because it felt good to feel your heart pound against your chest. It reminded you that you were still alive. You were almost back into the castle when you collapsed onto the stone ground, unable to move your legs any further. Your whole body felt like jello, similarly to your mind, which was in some distant land refusing to return to accept the events that had occurred. You were sobbing and shaking uncontrollably. You were so far gone, you didn't even feel Severus' arms when they wrapped themselves around you and picked you up. You buried your face into his chest as he carried you to the hospital wing.

-

James awoke in a panic, feeling you not in his arms. He looked around, realizing you were long gone. He should have gone to look for you, but he couldn't help but stop to smile at the thought of you. He could still taste you on his tongue, smell your perfume on his clothes, feel the shape of your lips against his, hear your soft moans. He got hard just thinking about the expression you had when he made you come.

"She loves me," he reminded himself.

He stood up, grabbing your bookbag from under the tree before confidently strolling back down to the castle. He made his way to his dormitory, setting your bag down and sitting on his bed. His mind continued to be overwhelmed with the thought of you. He reached into your bookbag, curiosity overcoming him. He pulled out random study books, stopping when he reached the potions one. He flipped it open, a note falling out of the front page. He opened it, seeing it was a note from Snape.

"I know you are upset you got a bad mark on the last quiz. The professor only gave you a bad mark because you're better than them. Seriously, (y/n), you are amazing at potions making. One day, you'll be working as the Potions Master and I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and we'll be able to give bad marks to all the kids we don't like. Keep your head up. - Severus"

James slammed the book shut and hastily put it back in your book bag. He was furious that someone would talk to his girl like this. He was furious that you would keep a note like this from someone like Snape. He crumpled the note, tossing it into your bag as Sirius, Remus, and Peter came running into the room.

"Where have you been?" Remus asked, clearly stressed.

"Where have you been?" James retorted, his anger from the note translating into his question.

"(Y/N) is in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey won't tell us anything. We've been trying to look for you!" Sirius said.

"Come on!" Remus called out, already making his way out of the room.

James quickly followed them, his mind racing with worry for his girl. What could have possibly happened since he saw her last? He thought to himself as they all quickly made their way to the hospital wing. When they arrived, James saw Snape sitting outside of the room. Anger immediately filled him. He knew he would have killed him if it was his fault (y/n) was hurt. He went to confront him, but Sirius grabbed his shoulders roughly.

"Come on."

They all walked into the room. James saw you curled up in the corner of the room and his heart broke for you. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let go.

"(Y/N)? What happened?" Sirius asked.

"No visitors!" Dumbledore yelled.

James looked at you, waiting for you to look back at him, waiting for you to tell the headmaster you wanted him to stay, but you never did. They left the room, the door slamming shut behind them. James thought of you, how you had gone from happy in his arms to the broken girl in the hospital wing. He looked over at Severus, anger immediately engulfing him.

"Snivellus," he called out antagonistically.

He began making his way over to him, but Remus grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Not now, James. Severus is the one who brought her here. He helped her," Remus explained.

"What happened, Snape?" Sirius asked.

"I don't know," Severus responded, his voice showing his irritation.

He clearly did not want to deal with the four idiots. He was more focused on his friend's safety.

"When I found her, she was..." he broke off, having a hard time thinking of the state he had seen his strong friend in. "Someone assaulted her."

James tried to push past his friends to get to Severus, but they held him back.

"Stop!" Sirius yelled. "This is not what she needs right now!"

James ran a hand through his hair, trying to control his anger. Dumbledore opened the door and looked between all of the boys.

"Mr. Snape, you are being requested."

It took everything for James to suppress his anger as Snape stood and entered the hospital wing. The door shut and James mind raced with ideas that only fueled his rage. He remembered how your body felt as you came, he remembered how it felt to slip his cock into you, and then he imagined Snape doing the same things to you. He imagined you moaning his name, kissing his lips. James imagined rushing through the doors and smashing his face then grabbing your face and kissing you. James walked up to the hospital wing door, trying to swing it open, but it wouldn't budge.

"Dumbledore put a charm on it, James. It won't open," Remus explained. "Come on. We'll come back tomorrow."

-

You laid curled up on the bed in the corner of the dark hospital wing, unable to sleep. Severus had left at curfew and you could feel the loneliness echoing off of the room, you wished he could have held you forever. At least in his arms, you felt safe, you felt like someone was looking out for you. You were lost in your thoughts, enslaved by the memories of the night.

The door to the hospital wing slowly creeped open, a sliver of light from the corridor shining through. Adrenaline poured into your system, intensifying every feeling in your body. You reminded yourself of the enchantment Dumbledore had placed over the room. You reminded yourself you were safe.

"Sev?" You called out. "Is that you?"

The door opening widened, but there was no one there. You sat up in the bed, looking intently at the door as if to see if it was truly open or if your mind was deceiving you. You went to stand to close it, but you were stopped in your tracks. You heard footsteps slowly making their way closer towards you. You pushed yourself back on the bed, your back firmly against the headboard. At the foot of your bed, the invisibility cloak slowly lifted, revealing James. You were locked in place, unable to move or scream even though you wanted to.

"Baby, what's wrong?" James asked, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

He moved to sit beside you on the bed. He wasn't touching you, but your skin crawled with the memory of his last touch.

"Get out," you said firmly, somehow finding the strength.

"Get out?" James laughed. "Come on, baby. You know you want me here. Otherwise, how would I have gotten in?"

You never knew confusion was such an intense emotion until that moment. You tried to deny it, but remembered the charm. Did you want him here? Did you want him? Your thoughts were broken by James' hand grabbing your thigh, his thumb gently caressing your skin. You reached for his hand to push it away, but he caught it, bringing it up to his lips. You pulled away aggressively, but James didn't seem to notice.

"Stop, James."

His eyes were focused on your lips as he moved closer to you. He grabbed your ankle, pulling you down onto the bed as he hovered over you. His hand went to your face, cupping it softly. You pushed against his chest, trying to push him off. You could feel his hard on pressing against your stomach.

"James, get off of me! Please, stop!" You screamed.

"Don't do that, baby," he soothed. "I love you. And you love me, you know that."

His hand moved down to your neck as he pressed his lips against yours.

You jolted up in a panic, looking around the empty room frantically. You were out of breath, your throat dry and sore. You pressed the palms of your hands against your forehead, imprudently trying to force the nefarious memories and thoughts from your mind. You spent the rest of the night with your eyes searching the dark, empty room for any sign of movement, paranoid your nightmare would become a reality and you would be forced to relive your worst experience all over again. Somehow, the castle now seemed to be home to many more ghosts.

-

You spent the next week in the hospital wing. Severus brought you all of the classwork you were missing so you were not falling behind. He spent as much time as he could with you, making you feel far less lonely. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were incredibly patient and understanding of the incident. They came to check on you at least once a day and never pressured you to leave the hospital wing. You knew it was time to return to your usual daily routine, but the idea of being forced to interact with James felt like a nightmare. You laid on the hospital bed, your books and parchment sprawled out as you worked.

“What happened to you?” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, breaking your concentration and causing you to look up from your papers.

Severus walked through the doors with a vibrantly purple and black eye. His hair fell over it, but it was impossible to hide.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just here to visit (Y/N).” 

Madam Pomfrey allowed him to walk past her, but continued to shake her head as she walked over to her healing potions on the side of the room, scanning through them for the appropriate one.

“What happened to you, Severus?” You asked, sitting up on the bed and immediately reaching your hand out to push his hair behind his ear. “That looks awful!”

“It’s nothing, (Y/N). Would you stop?”

He pushed your hand away as he sat on the bed next to you. 

“Was it them? Tell me, Severus.”

“Why don’t we just focus on you? You’re the one in the hospital wing after all.”

“So are you now, Mr. Snape,” Madam Pomfrey stated. “Sit still and look up.”

Madam Pomfrey applied a thick cream to Severus’ eye. The colors dissipated and the swelling went down until eventually the ailment almost completely disappeared. By the time Madam Pomfrey finished treating Severus, it was time for him to leave for his next class. He grabbed his books and began walking out of the hospital wing.

“Wait-” You called out, surprising even yourself. 

You collected you classwork before standing and making your way over to Severus.

“Are you leaving?” Madam Pomfrey asked, clearly contemplating whether to allow you to go.

“Yes, Madam. Thank you for everything,” You said before turning to a shocked Severus. “They know better than to mess with us when we’re together. Let’s go.”

[calpops]

masquerade | m.c.

A masquerade ball offers Michael one last night to be with the person he loves.

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♔ ♔ ♔

The ballroom was aglow. Chandeliers hung from high vaulted ceilings, flames blazed above and left a lurid haze of warmth in their wake. Michael swept into the room as a crashing crescendo hit its queue. The music was loud, overwhelming when mixed with the crowd of strangers. He knew no one, if not for the masks on their faces, then for the fact his home was filled with dignitaries and lords and ladies of lands he had never been to. His eyes scanned the room, from the glistening display of ice sculptures to the exuberant amount of food lining tables against the walls.

None of it mattered. All Michael wanted to see was shy smiles and fidgeting hands. He scoped out the room once more, falling into disappointment when he couldn’t find her. But a gentle tap on his shoulder had him turning on his heel, letting out a breath of awe and taking her in. Instead of uniform—a gray dress and apron—light blue lace and pearls donned her body. Her hair was done up and a mask made to match her dress hid her face. But she was unmistakable to Michael. He’d know her anywhere.

“Care to dance?” Michael asked and extended his hand to her in offering.

She nodded and behind the mask that claimed her face Michael knew her cheeks were warming.

“As if I could refuse a prince,” she whispered airily as they drifted to the middle of the dance floor.

For the first time since Michael met her there was no fear that lingered between them. Secrets danced in the open. The prince took a beautiful lady to the middle of the ballroom and no one spared them a glance except in awe. Whispers would not carry words of disapproval, sneers would not meet their gazes. Michael felt like he was on the clouds as they twirled around, his hands lightly on her waist. He was trained in dance but she knew no steps other than to sway rhythmically to the music.

“Can you believe a kitchen maid is at a royal ball?” she asked in another whisper, the question so timid and filled with such disbelief it nearly broke Michael’s heart.

If he had it his way he would escort her to every event the castle threw. She would be awe inspiring in silks and jewels. She would be his princess and arranged marriages would cease to exist.

Instead of voicing all of those thoughts and wants he simply sighed with content. “You’re stunning.”

Her touch glided from his shoulders, up his neck and to his face where she gently lifted his white mask. She smiled shyly as she took him in before placing it back down. “As are you, my prince,” she responded and twirled with the music. Her dress sashayed in a grand sweep and she giggled. “I’ve never worn a dress so fine. You’ll have to thank her for me.”

Michael went rigid, the mere mention of his betrothed enough to make him falter. He wanted to despise her, he certainly hated their situation and the fact he could not marry the one he loved. But he couldn’t find resentment for her in him. Not when she was kind enough to grant his lady a night made from her dreams and dress made of lace and pearls.

“I will,” he promised. The ballroom was beautiful, her dress and mask were intricate and complimented her in a wondrous way, but Michael was still missing something. “Come out to the balcony with me?” he asked, knowing the shadows of the night would give them privacy.

She nodded as he took her hand and led the way out the doors to the desolate space. The moon was out, full and glowing just like her smile. Stars dotted the sky in tales of heroes and tragedies. Michael found her gaze, innocent and sweet. He acted on impulse once he was sure they were completely alone.

Just as she had, with gentle fingers and a loving touch, he lifted the lace mask from her face, finding much more beauty beneath the material. She smiled again, not as shy as before. When they were alone, she wasn’t afraid to be intimate, to show sides of herself the rest of the kingdom would never know. She beamed under the moon and looked up at the sky.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she said and turned to reach a hand out to the balcony railing, gripping it softly with a gloved hand. “It’s too bad it will be over so soon.”

Michael breathed out, breath colliding with the chilled air in a sorrowful plume. The party would die down in only a couple of short hours. Her dress would be replaced with the uniform Michael was prone to seeing her in though her glamor and beauty would not disappear. The castle would go back to being dark and feeling hollow. The morning would come and his wedding day would approach, no matter how much he willed it not to. His one true love would not be the one to walk down the aisle to him, no matter how much he wished for it.

“We could slip away,” Michael suggested and while she was used to the phrase--slipping away from the kitchens or royal responsibilities and finding alone time in the dark of Michael’s chambers--this time she sighed and shook her head slowly.

“We can’t do that anymore,” she said softly but the words were enough to pierce against Michael’s heart. “This is our last night. You’re meant to be wed in a fortnight,” she continued and turned back to him, reaching out for his hands and giving them a gentle squeeze. “She’s a good woman. And you’ll be a good husband.”

“We could run away,” Michael then suggested even though he knew it was farfetched, he could never run from the crown he was born to wear, he could never escape the fate that followed him.

She laughed but it was not filled with joy as it usually was. “I couldn’t rob a king of his crown.”

“I’m not king yet,” he mumbled.

“No, but you’ll be the best one this kingdom has ever seen. If you let yourself be,” she encouraged and closed the small distance between them, her lips brushing his softly. “I love you too much to let you run away from everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“You’re everything I want,” Michael spoke the truth but he knew it wasn’t enough. He knew the night was their last. “Stay with me tonight?” and in the morning they would go back to being a prince and a kitchen maid. Only crossing paths when the castle halls brought them together. Only exchanging familiar glances and pretending their hearts weren’t breaking with each day.

“One last night,” she agreed and slipped her mask back on, all of their games and disguises coming back to life as they left the party.

Their guards only came down when they were tucked safely away from everyone else. One last night filled with bliss and promises they knew they could not keep. The moon faded away and with the sunrise came an empty side of the bed and a lace dress left behind on the floor. Michael’s heart in pieces.

***

Part 2??

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[cheri-translates]

Gavin’s Official Art Book (Eng Translation)

Credits to @minjee98​ for sending me photos of Gavin’s official art book and requesting this translation!

This post contains details on Gavin’s outfits, items, backgrounds, and interviews with his CN voice actor, the Copywriting Team, Art Team, and Production team.

More: Kiro l Lucien l Black Swan l STF l NPCs l Loveland City

💙 GAVIN’S OUTFITS 💙

[ Leather Jacket ]

Like a gust of wind blowing from a time of youth, coursing through very long years, Gavin appeared before you. An unruly and intractable smile, a relaxed tone, and the corner of his shirt riding up with the wind at the front seat of the motorcycle...

Back then, you wouldn’t have thought that he would be holding onto your hand like this, accompanying you through countless sceneries.

[Note] Something cute is that the word “sceneries” in Chinese is 风景 (“feng jing”), which directly translates to “wind view”

[ Uniform - Jacket Version ]

If it weren’t for Gavin bringing you to the Special Task Force and telling you about the Black Swan organisation, you would have continued living in ignorance.

Shouldn’t you be glad that he was willing to tell you everything? It’s only because of this that you knew you had been protected all along, and could finally stand by his side. 

[ Gavin’s Shirt  ]

If a rainbow is a delight after a rainfall, and two rainbows are a delight of a coincidental destiny, the three rainbows that you and Gavin saw must definitely be a unique miracle.

As long as you’re with him, the two of you can definitely create even more miracles belonging only to the both of you.

[ Shirt and Pants ]

The summer wind, his mildly bashful smile, the white shirt with its slightly rolled up sleeves, and the side profile with the blue coloured roof reflected in his pupils.

There’s no need to specially reminisce that summer day spent coursing through the river of love with Gavin. It’s definitely shimmering brightly in your memories all along, isn’t it?

[ Swimming Attire]

Riding the waves on a surfboard, playing the bass underneath the lights, using a light cough to cover his shyness... These are the most beautiful memories of that year’s summer.

Back then, when you had looked into Gavin’s eyes, did you suddenly feel that your entire life would pass like this?

[ Camo Jacket ] 

On the day of releasing Pearly, the sunlight was warm and bright. A slight wind was blowing up strands of stray hair. Gavin held onto you, the two of you embracing the sunlight and wind.

Do you still remember? Him promising you the rest of his life back then, the bright amber of his eyes, and the answer you had given.

You said that you’d never let go of his hand.

[ Silver Grey Suit ]

You never would have thought the so-called “Meeting the Parents” would be such a nerve-racking thing.

It’s a good thing Gavin donned a well-fitting suit and appeared in time, protecting you from all sorts of tricky questions posed by your relatives. Or else you’d have been disorientated from the questions early on.

[ Swordsman Outfit ]

Which incident left the deepest impression on you during that year’s Qixi Festival? Was it Gavin’s swordsman appearance, his tender gaze under the moonlight, or was it... the sense of suffocation when you found out that his wire was broken?

If prayers truly worked, you would have been willing to make a prayer to the gods and spirits: Please don’t let him be put in danger again.

[ Wedding Attire ]

Although the wedding was just a filming activity, have you ever secretly anticipated it?

That path of fresh flowers the two of you walked along together, those bright and resplendent moments, and that person who had held onto you as you walked forward...

Being with him like this has commenced the true start of your lives. 

[ Black Jacket ]

The first time you spent Valentine’s Day with Gavin, the first time you received an exorbitant gift from him, the first time the two of you drank from the same beverage...

On that day, you experienced so many memorable firsts. And to him, these memories are definitely just as precious.

[ Army Attire ]

The pitch-black uniform and gloves, medals flashing with a cold light, and ice-cold handcuffs... You’ve probably never seen such a Gavin.

But even if he doesn’t recognise you at all, he will continue stopping you from getting involved in danger, and will keep your lost bracelet properly.

No matter what, he has always been a tender person.

[ School Attire ]

He’s already hurt but still has a look of happiness and wants to play basketball - are all boys like that?

Can’t you easily imagine how a young Gavin was definitely the type to lead a bunch of small boys at the front with the broadest smile on his face as they ran towards the basketball court!

-

💙 GAVIN’S ITEMS 💙

Communication device - I carry it on me. It’s indispensable.

Gloves - An accompaniment when on missions. When I’m with you, I'll take them off.

Photograph together - Every moment related to us and worthy of remembering have been properly stored.

Photoshoot pictures - Because it has to do with you, I [ I CAN’T READ HIS HANDWRITING ]

Universe cake - Only you can fulfil my wish.

Astral stone - That was the last time [ I CAN’T READ HIS HANDWRITING ]

Cute hair tie - I’ll only be like this in front of you.

Touchscreen phone -  Don’t bother about the rumours from school. Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell them all to you.

Shampoo - Next time, I’ll help wash your hair again.

Police badge - Memories of you in high school surface in his mind... it was truly a counter of a rebellious youth.

Bullets

Soft pillow

Ginkgo leaves

Letter

Phone keychain

Gavin’s house key

Lavender eye mask

Ginger tea

-

💙 BACKGROUNDS 💙

[ Gavin’s Room ]

Ever since the two of you reunited, life has gradually entered this minimalist-styled room. Without realising it, photographs of the two of you have appeared on the neat and tidy work desk. And the gloves you gave to him have been placed in the most eye-catching spot in the closet.

[ Gavin’s Kitchen ]

The kitchen, which didn’t have a full collection of ingredients, was gradually imbued with the smell of soot. The two of you have made several failed dishes together, but each time, he’ll smile and finish everything. The next time, will the both of you be able to overcome the curse of “dark cuisine” together?

[ Special Task Force Office ]

Here, you found out about the secrets of the Special Task Force, and also found out that the righteousness he has been steadfast in is hard-won. After that, he may never step into this place again. But you definitely trust in the conviction of his words.

[ Castle Steps ]

When he held onto you, walking up that serene spiral staircase, your heart was beating even faster than usual, wasn’t it? Did it stem purely from an anticipation of an unknown scenery, or was it from the unending stream of warmth from his palm?

-

💙 INTERVIEWS 💙

[ Interview with Ah Jie, the voice actor for Gavin ]

“I hope that while he remains steadfast to his convictions, he can live each day happily and optimistically.”

Q1: Teacher Ah Jie, having interacted with Gavin for such a long time, do you have any new insights regarding him?

Ah Jie: Mm, I do, a little. The most obvious thing would be how he has recently returned to his original self. Actually, things related to his mother, and the attitude his father adopts when interacting with him, have to a large extent changed his personality and the way he handles things. I still hope that while he remains steadfast to his convictions, he can live each day happily and optimistically. Love can make one more cheerful and carefree, and it’s pretty good.

-

Q2: Are there any characteristics of Gavin you appreciate a lot?

Ah Jie: I find one thing good about Gavin - the way he strongly perseveres in what he has decided upon. No matter whether it’s in terms of righteousness, his convictions, or feelings - once he decides on it, he’ll move forward without hesitation.

-

Q3: What do you think of Gavin’s Evol?

Ah Jie: I initially wanted to possess it, but... it’s not very useful considering Beijing’s weather. If his Evol was sufficiently powerful, could it blow away the smog? I’ll find a chance to ask him some other day.

-

Q4: Is there anything you’ve always wanted to tell Gavin, but haven’t?

Ah Jie: Even though he isn’t the type who knows how to hold a conversation with girls, he has changed for the better recently, and it’s a very large improvement. However, there’s no need to specially change. I think girls like how he is right now.

-

Q5: Has Teacher Ah Jie recently chanced upon a restaurant which you want to bring Gavin to?

Ah Jie: I recently discovered a very delicious and very spicy place. Next time, I’ll arrange to have supper with him there, haha.

-

[ Interview with the Copywriting Team ]

“He should be free and unfettered.”

Q1: The storyline of the game has several science fiction elements. What made you consider including science fiction elements in a game targeted at females?

Actually, we felt that romance is often underestimated. Love isn’t simply effete language without substance, or honeyed words. Love can give us courage, and bring us to a whole new world, opening new journeys, finding your unlimited self. A romance story is naturally appropriate to be melded with any other motifs. In love, we can explore various issues: personal growth, contradictions in society, the truth of civilisation, the rise and fall of history...  The story we wish to convey to the players is one of “the cruel competition between love and power”. This isn’t just a complex story with science fiction elements. Actually, it’s also very related to the lives of every person.

-

Q2: As an Evol agent, does Gavin work 365 without rest?

No, but he has to be prepared to accept sudden missions.

-

Q3: Why couldn’t Gavin keep Greenie alive?

He watered it too much.

-

Q4: If he uses his Evol, what’s the highest point Gavin can reach through flight?

As long as he wants to, he can fly as high as he wants.

-

Q5: Does Gavin really like eating noodles?

It’s not to the extent of "really liking” it. it’s just that he finds it convenient.

-

Q6: When deciding on Gavin’s Evol, were there any special considerations?

We felt that he should be free and unfettered, just like... a gust of free and easy wind.

-

Q7: In the process of interacting, does Gavin have any difficult-to-spot “moe points”?

His slightly clumsy way of expressing his care and consideration. For instance, asking “Were you happy to ride it once more” after taking the Ferris wheel.

-

Q8: In the 2018 Qixi Festival event, Gavin’s ancient garb left a deep impression on people. Why did you design Gavin this way?

A swordsman who comes and goes without a trace. A swordsman who can rush to the skies even after falling off a cliff.

-

Q9: Is Gavin a dog or a cat person?

Dog.

-

Q10: What do you think is Gavin’s most classic line? How did you think of it?

“As long as you’re in the wind, I can sense you.”

It just came out very naturally in the plot - that Gavin would say something like that.

-

Q11: In relation to Gavin, are there any scenes that you’ve always wanted to write but haven’t fulfilled yet?

More scenes imbued with the feeling of a youthful romance. For instance, kissing at the rooftop staircase. I hope it can be arranged soon.

-

[ Interview with the Art Team ]

“Your photograph must be placed even on the workbench of the secret base!”

Q1: In relation to the various scenes in Loveland City, are there are any real life references?

The answer to this question has already been discovered by some meticulous players. We have indeed made references to a few real sceneries, such as the The Bund.

We want to give players the sense that the romance is happening right next to them, which is why we’ve brought our city’s scenery into the game, so everyone can feel a sense of familiarity and realism.

-

Q2: Art Sisters, what you think of the “Papergames Art Style” as coined by players? What is the biggest difference between the art style in Mr Love Queen’s Choice and other games by Papergames?

Actually, we don’t really understand the meaning of “Papergames Art Style”, and we don’t know what it means specifically. It probably refers to how the tone and atmosphere are more clear and romantic? Even our own department finds that the art styles from different games are very different. In making a comparison, Mr Love Queen’s Choice is much “harder” (laughs). After all, our main characters are four adult men. Right now, the style is basically “hard but not coarse” - there are parts which require meticulousness and delicateness, yet can’t be too soft.

-

Q3: Have you ever considered changing Gavin’s hairstyle, for instance giving him a crew cut?

Based on his personality, he might have thought about it. After all, a crew cut is very convenient. But come to think of it, does everyone really want to see him with a crew cut?

-

Q4: Where does Gavin typically buy his clothes? Online or in the shopping mall?

When he thinks it’s about time to buy clothes, he’ll find time to go to the mall. Occasionally, he buys them online.

-

Q5: How many different scars does Gavin have on his body?

There are some especially obvious scars on his collarbone and back. There are many other non-obvious ones in other places.

-

Q6: Why is there such a big difference between Gavin’s initial design and the final design? Initially, why did you give him that somewhat “smart” hairstyle?

Actually, we tried out many different types of hairstyles in the beginning. Then, we selected the one which was most suitable, and then refined it. The “smart” hairstyle was just one of many.

-

Q7: How many different outfits does Gavin have currently?

It’s difficult to say. After all, he does keep buying new clothes. A guy’s closet is the same as a woman’s - forever missing one shirt, a pair of pants, a pair of shoes, a watch...

-

Q8: Flowers appear frequently in the game. Could I ask the Art Team which flower best suits Gavin?

White lilac.

-

Q9: When it comes to Gavin’s home decor, what do the Art Sisters find the most special?

What’s special lies in “the warmth only you know about”.

Although the monochrome colours appear cold and cool, the details reveal the dribs and drabs of your lives: Outside the windows, you can see ginkgo trees which a harbour special meaning to the two of you. Atop the shelf in front of the window sits the strong “Greenie No. N+1″. Your photograph must be placed even on the workbench of the secret base!

-

Q10: What’s most difficult to grasp about Gavin?

The ahoge on Gavin’s head should point in the opposite direction of the wind.

-

[ Interview with the Production Team ]

“He gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”

Q1: Why did you produce a game like “Love and Producer”?

Producers: Since 2015, our company has already started producing this game. As a mobile game with romance at its core, it’s something not many companies have tried before. The company had a lot of discussions on the possibility of it. In the end, we decided to do it, and the reason for making constant iterations, updates, and persevering after three years is especially simple. No matter what age you are, no matter whether you’ve dated before, no matter whether you're married and have your own family, we believe that in every woman’s heart, there remains an anticipation for romance and heart-stirring experiences. Which is why we believe “Love and Producer” has a reason for its existence. This belief has always guided our production and operation process, and we hope we can continuously bring even more beautiful romance experiences to everyone in the future.

-

Q2: Where did the name of the game “Love and Producer” come from?

Producers: I don’t know if anyone remembers that in the very beginning, our tagline on the official website has always been “Love and dreams need to meet their match.” Why is this game called “Love and Producer”? That’s because the link between you and him not only encompasses the narrow scope of love, but also permeates into to your life journey together.

-

Q3: Are there any deeply hidden “Easter eggs”? Could you disclose them to us?

Producers: They aren’t really that hidden, but there are indeed some “Easter eggs” which should have already been discovered by some players. For instance, you can see a certain poster during City Strolls. In “Go See Him”, the coupling of certain outfits and sceneries could bring out a few hidden lines. We welcome everyone to give it a try.

-

Q4: If you were to catch criminals together with Gavin, how could you help him?

Producers: After much thought, we might only be bait...

-

Q5: What do the people in the Production team call Gavin?

Producers: Gavin, Old Gav, Lil Gav, Bro Gav.

-

Q6: How do the males in the production team view Gavin?

Producers: An envoy of righteousness, he gives people a sense of security, like the ‘Ah Sir’ in Hong Kong films!”. But sometimes, he’s like Andy Chan.

-

Q7: If you had Gavin’s Evol, what would you use it for?

Producers: Of course, I'll go for a flight!

-

Q8: If there comes a day when you can be as fearless as Gavin, what would you want to do most?

Producers: Serve... serve the motherland?

-

Q9: Lastly, do you have anything to say to the players?

Producers: This interaction between the Production Team and the players is already sufficient enough to cherish. The world we created has only become perfect because of your participation. Our days alongside Loveland City have already become an important stamp in our lives. This world is still constantly becoming richer and broader. Kindly look forward to it!

[bazwillendinflames]

Wish For You

Read on AO3 

For Matteusz, he had hoped that travelling to the kingdom of Rhodia would bring a better life. Despite a job at the castle, his magic - forbidden by the Queen - and growing feelings for Prince Charles, have only complicated things.

For Prince Charles, tired of living in a carefully controlled world meant to protect him, seeks a night of escape, with the help of the closest thing he has to a true friend. A night at the Festival of Souls provides them both a night of freedom. But how free can you truly be when there's a part of yourself you're always hiding? 

(AKA A loosely based Merlin Marlie au)

Part One - Magic

Matteusz did his chores by hand, even though it was so early the grand hallways of the castle were practically deserted. He had seen the fate of magic users first hand within his first week in Rhodia. Even almost a year later, the smell of smoke still brought back uncomfortable memories of the woman’s screaming. 

He pushed open the Prince’s door without knocking and almost dropped the breakfast tray as Charles let out a startled yelp. Matteusz was equally surprised to see him awake so early - it was rare for him to be awake before Matteusz arrived. It was even rarer for him to awake and ready, although his shirt was ill-fitting and old. 

“My apologies Matteusz,” Charles said formally. 

“I should have knocked,” he said, not quite sure whether to comment on the fact Charles was usually sleeping at this time. “Your breakfast.” 

“Thank you.” 

Charles began eating, in the delicate way only nobles who had their next meal guaranteed could. Matteusz tried not to stare at him, although he was more concerned the Prince had gotten himself cursed again than the other reasons he sometimes found himself watching him . But Charles’ eyes were the same pretty blue, no hints of enchantment or glossiness there. (He always seemed to get himself in trouble, magical or otherwise. Matteusz wasn’t sure how the Prince made it to nineteen without him.) 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

Charles nodded. “Why would I not be?” 

They may be friendlier than Mattuesz suspected a Prince and a servant were meant to be - almost friends (which was enough, even if a part of him ached hopelessly for more) - but he still knew better than to push it. 

“No reason,” he answered politely instead, busying himself with lighting the fire. 

“What has my Mother planned for me today?” 

“Strategic meetings in the morning, training with the knights in the afternoon.” The same as every Friday. 

Charles’ handsome face twitched into a frown. “How… lovely. What of the evening?” 

“No plans I know of.” 

That seemed to please Charles, although he didn’t let on why. “Excellent.” 

Matteusz didn’t pry. As long as Charles did not get himself into danger (again), he was welcome to his secrets. 

Matteusz started tidying the room picking up crumpled clothes. Charles may be polite and remember the names of his servants but he was incredibly messy. He could afford to be in a house full of servants, part of him thought bitterly. Still, Matteusz enjoyed his job, he liked the quiet domestic mornings and he liked being at Charles’ side. He was lucky to get a job at the castle, even if it was a little tedious at times and he was too fearful to use magic. The paycheck that funded his sisters’ education kept him going. 

A canvas was set up in the corner, still wet at the edges. It must have been why Charles was awake so early, although Matteusz would never have guessed he was an artist. It was impressive, a beautiful painting of the Rhodian town square, lit up with hundreds of candles. Only half of the night sky was painted but Matteusz could tell it would be a gorgeous piece when finished. 

“Did you paint this?” He found himself asking. Then, as it was an obvious question he added: “it is very good.” 

Charles looked over at the canvas, his expression pained. “I did. I can explain-” 

“You are very talented,” Matteusz interrupted, hoping he wasn’t pushing any of the unspoken boundaries between them. “Is it ever lit up that way? With all the candles?” 

“Yes, candles,” Charles said quickly. “It’s how I imagine the town to look at night. I have not been able to see it like that.” 

“I would like to see it like that as well,” he agreed, “you make it look magical.” 

“Do not tell the Queen that,” Charles said dryly. Matteusz stepped back from the painting guiltily. But it was clear Charles was not being serious, just another of his jokes that did not land right. 

“Our secret,” he promised. 

Charles smiled at that and Matteusz made himself busy again. It would not do him well to linger on the fluttering in his chest for too long. A Prince and a servant - especially a foriegn one with magic -  like him would never work. (But it was nice to imagine sometimes. But only sometimes. If he indulged in Charles' smile for too long, he’d never get anything done at all.) 

With the prince busy all morning, Matteusz found himself in a cramped corner of the palace library. Tanya always seemed to know when he’d be away from Charles’ side and had ambushed him half-way through doing laundry. There had been little point arguing as he was dragged around the castle, although he made a token attempt at protesting anyway. 

“Shouldn't you be working?” 

She hushed him, balancing another scroll on the pile in his arms. Matteusz was sure they weren’t allowed to access the royal library for personal use but there was little point bringing it up to Tanya. She was both stubborn and clever enough to get away with it. Besides, she was one of his only friends. 

“Come on,” she hurried him along. 

Matteusz followed her, weaving through the many hallways and servant passages of the castle. It had been an impressive sight on his first day but there was always some new pathway or hiding spot he was learning of - impossibly, it was bigger on the inside. Tanya had taken them to a small room, the size of a cupboard, with two beds squeezed in and a rocky dresser in the corner. 

“Do not let anyone see you here.” 

“I won’t,” he promised. 

Tanya pulled on the bottom draw until he came out completely with a creak. A dozen scrolls were hidden there. 

“Clever,” he noted. Matteusz had hidden a few texts of his own - old books of magic from the old religion, half-translated to Polish by his Grandmother. Under the queen’s rule, it was important to know how to hide. 

“Thanks. I usually don’t take so many, but it was so busy today. Everyone is preoccupied with the festival today.” 

“What festival?” 

Tanya looked up from her scrolls. “You don’t- I keep forgetting you’re new. Tonight is the Festival of Souls. All staff get the night off. It’s tradition.”  

“That’s unexpectedly nice of the Queen.” 

“The Prince actually,” she corrected. 

Matteusz smiled. “Really?” 

Tanya wedged back the draw with force. “Come help me finish my chores so we can go early? And please take that sappy look off your face.” 

Matteusz followed her smiling. Tanya may drag him around the castle but at least she dragged him out of it too. A kingdom away from Cela, he had found himself another sister. 

   “So tell me more about this festival?” Matteusz asked.

They were taking the long walk on the outskirts of the castle, carrying heavy buckets of water out to the stables. As one of the younger servants, Tanya was usually stuck with grunt work like that. Matteusz had only been roped into helping her out of his own niceness. 

“It’s fun. There’s live music and nice food. At the end, we light candles that’s meant to be our soul’s wish.” 

“It sounds wonderful.” 

“You’re lucky you get to experience it for the first time.” 

They crossed over from the cobblestone bricks onto the uneven grass. It was a short cut that they desperately needed - Matteusz arms were starting to ache. 

“Thank the gods,” Tanya said, dropping the buckets on the ground. “I wish they’d just install a pump out here.” 

Matteusz put down his own load and sat by her on the ground. “We deserve a break.” 

“Agreed.” 

“Did someone say break?” April asked. “Count me in.” 

She ignored her own duties of taking the buckets in and joined them. April was one of the stable hands who looked after the castle horses. It was a job that suited her - she was very gentle with them. Matteusz had even caught her singing to them a few times. 

“Are you coming to the festival?” 

“If the right person asks me,” she replied coyly. 

“Are you talking about a certain knight?” Tanya teased. 

They were sat close enough to the training fields to make out the figures sparring with each other. 

“I might be.” April waved in their direction. The knight in question, Lord Singh, waved back and was knocked on the ground. He did his best to style it out, jogging over in their direction. 

“Here’s your chance,” Tanya muttered. “Oh hey Ram. You know you’re meant to stay on your feet during a fight, right?” 

“Funny.” He smiled at them charmingly. “I wasn’t expecting my fans.” 

“More like casual spectators,” Tanya replied, although it was clear his attention was now firmly directed at April. 

“I think that’s our sign to leave.” 

“Agreed.” They stood up to leave. 

Matteusz smiled over his shoulder. “Hope to see you later April.” 

“You will!” 

“Should I be jealous you have plans?” 

Matteusz almost laughed. He had far more interest in him than April. (Ram flirted with everyone. It said a lot about how smitten he was with Charles that Matteusz wasn’t taken by him more.) 

“Just the festival later. You know the one you’ll be taking me to later.” 

The pair continued flirting as Tanya and Matteusz walked back in the direction of the castle. 

“Good for her.” 

“Yeah.” She seemed a little wistful. “Wish it was that easy for people like us to find someone.” 

Matteusz’ thoughts ended up back to Charles. “And tell them,” he added. 

  “My apologies, I didn’t realise you were back from your training already.” 

Charles was sitting in front of his canvas, a smudge of dark blue paint on his chin. “No need to apologise.” 

“You didn’t go, did you?” 

“It may have slipped my mind,” Charles confessed. 

Matteusz peered over his shoulder at the painting he had been working on this morning. It was now near finished, with the indigo sky complete and a pale moon in the corner. “You really are talented.” 

“You flatter me,” he replied. But Mattuesz could tell from the smile that he enjoyed the flattery. 

“Is it the festival?” 

“It’s close. I’ve not yet been able to attend myself.” 

 The Queen was likely behind it: she was a paranoid woman. (She had enough reason to be paranoid, the magical community had targeted Charles a dozen times over her policies against them.) 

“I can tell you about it tomorrow.” 

“You’re attending?” Charles asked, turning away from his painting. 

“If I am allowed to?” 

He nodded. “Of course. It’s funny, in ways you have so much more freedom than I do.” 

“In some ways,” Matteusz replied, thinking of the flow of magic under his skin he was terrified to use. 

“Could I ask something of you?” There was a softness to the Prince’s voice that Matteusz had clung onto. He had a feeling whatever it was Charles would ask of him, he would agree. 

“Anything.” 

“Could you take me with you?” 

Part 2 - Magic

Part of Charles had been hoping that Matteusz would have lent him some clothes. It was strangely disappointing that he hadn’t - his painting clothes had been women enough to pass as commoner wear. Although perhaps if he claimed to be cold later, Matteusz would offer his jacket, or the soft looking scarf he usually wore. 

(Charles usually didn’t allow himself to linger too long on Matteusz like that. There were a hundred good reasons not to linger on the way Matteusz had tenderly wiped paint from his face earlier. It wouldn’t end well, for either of them.)  

As if Matteusz could tell what he was thinking, he looked over (or down, more accurately) at him. “Are you alright?” 

Charles felt his cheeks flush. “Yes.” 

Matteusz smiled at him. Perhaps his simpler clothing was doing something good: it seemed like they were almost equals. Matteusz rarely smiled at him as much whilst he was working. 

“I can see from here.” 

Charles followed him, catching sight of the lights threaded amongst the trees and windowsills of the square. He had only been in the town square a few times before and never in under conditions. This was no emergency evacuation due to cursed wells or an unfortunate face off with an embittered magic welder. (Or, on one special occasion, a dragon.) 

The square was far from the state of chaos he was used to. The festival was filled with dozens of lights, meant to represent the souls of their lost family and friends. There were small stalls, with barrels of ale or delicious smelling foods. A band played music in the centre. 

“It’s so much more than I was ever able to imagine.” 

“You can try and repaint it,” Matteusz suggested. 

“Some things are just too beautiful to really capture.” 

“You don’t know until you’ve tried.” 

Under the waves of gentle candle light, his warm brown eyes were almost golden. It was hard not to get caught up in it all, so Charles forced himself to step away. He was still a prince after all, no matter how free he felt or how simple he was dressed. 

“Best not to. I don’t want to give us- me away.”

Matteusz seemed to get the underlying message and nodded. “Yes, of course sir.” 

“You know I hate that,” Charles said, hoping his exaggerated frustration would lighten the mood. 

Matteusz looked almost relieved. But before Charles could really analyse his expression, Mattuesz was pushing forward through the crowd towards the cluster of stalls. 

They stopped at a few stalls, browsing the various wares there. Matteusz picked up a set of two woven bracelets. A matching set. 

Charles swallowed back any jealousy. It wasn’t his business to ask who it was for, Matteusz was allowed to have a life outside of his work. 

“Best ale in the kingdom,” Matteusz said. He was talking to the old woman who ran the stall with an easy charm. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere young man,” she replied. Her accent was similar to Matteusz’ own - she must be from the edge of the kingdom as well. “Who’s this?” 

“A friend from the palace,” Matteusz answered. 

“Ah. Another unlucky soul?” 

Charles stayed quiet, mildly alarmed. Maybe his Mother was right when she told him there was danger everywhere. 

“But we have so kindly been given a day off,” Matteusz replied. 

It hadn’t occurred to Charles that Matteusz might actually want to spend his day off away from him. He couldn’t imagine any of his past servants doing the same for him. 

Matteusz paid for the drinks, passing a tall glass of a dark ale to him. 

Charles gave it an experimental sip and spluttered on the bitter taste. He was glad Matteusz was turned away for that one. 

They moved away from the stalls, crossing a group of giggling young women pushing past in the other direction, knocking their bags into him and splashing their drinks. 

“It seems like your disguise is working.” 

Charles rubbed at the dark stain now on his arm. “Yes. Maybe too well.” 

“Surely it is nice to be invisible for once?” 

“It’s certainly… a change.” He sighed. “Although if we could escape the crowd, I’d appreciate it.” 

Just a small comment had alerted him to all the unknowns in the crowds. It would only take one magic user with a grudge to cause chaos. 

Matteusz seemed to sense his anxiety and reached for his hand, navigating them through the masses of people into a more secluded corner. 

“Better?” 

Charles nodded, trying to ignore how his hand was tingling. (He had once fought a magic user who shot bolts of lightning at people. It felt similar - like all his nerves were on edge.) 

“I will get us new drinks.” 

Charles found himself suddenly alone, in a quiet corner at the edge of everything he had ever dreamed of seeing. He closed his eyes and let the sounds wash over him: endless chatter, musical warm ups from the band, laughter. He could still feel the warmth of Matteusz's hand in his own. 

This was a life that Charles could imagine for himself if he had been born common. Visiting the festival every year, not having to worry about meetings or magic or pleasing the Queen. Marrying for love, not power. 

It was merely a fantasy - and it would only ever stay a fantasy. But it was nice to imagine otherwise. 

“We have a good view of the musicians.” 

Charles opened his eyes again, with Matteusz now by his side. 

“Uh, yes.” 

“Oh there’s April.” Matteusz pointed at the dark haired woman holding a fiddle. “She works at the palace. We should be careful though, Lord Singh is with her.” 

“You know a lot about the palace.” 

“They’re my friends.”

Charles wanted to ask what that was like but he didn’t want to look too naive. He busied himself by trying the ale again, but the taste hadn’t improved. 

Matteusz tried his best to hide it but Charles caught the laughter behind his hand. 

“Are you laughing at me?” 

“No.” 

“I can hear you.” 

Matteusz moved his hand, revealing his bright smile. It was almost enough for him to be forgiven. “Okay. Just a little. I’ve seen you drink caskets of wine in the kingdom with no problem.” 

“They taste nice!” 

Matteusz took a long sip of his own drink. “You’ll get used to it.” 

They say in a peaceful quiet. They were positioned perfectly to watch couples dance to the music played. Now Matteusz had mentioned it, he could make out Lord Singh spinning the pretty musician girl. 

“Must be nice to dance without such strict rules.” 

“Yes,” Matteusz agreed, sounding a little wistful. 

Charles took a longer gulp of his ale before asking: “do you have anyone to dance with? If you hadn’t escorted me?” 

“Escorted?” Matteusz seemed amused. “You’re a little old for a babysitter.” 

…Which wasn’t answering his question. 

“But no,” he answered. “I had someone back home but I had to leave him behind.” 

Him. Charles tried not to overthink it. 

“Do you miss it?” 

“Dancing?” Matteusz asked. “I am not very good.” 

“Having someone.” He felt his face flush again. At least it was darker now and less obvious. He could always blame the ale. 

“It was nice.” He looked away from the couples. “I miss other parts of home more. Like my sister. I send her gifts when I can. Like the bracelets I brought earlier. She likes to make ones like them.” 

Charles felt a little foolish. “You don’t mention her a lot.” 

“I miss her,” Mattesuz replied. 

“I sometimes wish I had a sibling,” Charles confessed. “To share the burden of being a prince.” 

“Must be lonely.” 

He looked over to Matteusz, reliably by his side as always. “Not always.” 

  Wobbling slightly, Charles was starting to regret his second and third ales. It had taken them to finally pluck up the courage to ask Matteusz to dance with him. It had been ungraceful, yet freeing, to be spun around in hazy circles. 

“I’m dizzy.” 

“I’m sure you are.” Was Matteusz laughing at him? He found it more endearing than anything else. They had both let their guard down. 

“I wish I was normal so we could do this everyday.” 

“The festival is only once a year.” 

“Then I’ll make it law to happen everyday.” 

“Normal people can’t make laws.” Matteusz was definitely teasing him now. “This way.” 

“I’d run away after.” 

“You can’t just run away.” 

Charles frowned. “You did. You left everything you knew.” 

“Yeah. But it is different. They need me to be here, even if it's dangerous for me. Rhodia needs you right where you are.” 

“How is it dangerous?” He asked. “Magic?” 

Matteusz stopped for a moment and Charles stumbled into his back. 

“It’s okay. I’ll protect you from the evil magicians Matti.” 

“Don’t call me that,” he replied. All the fun sucked out of the conversation suddenly. 

Even in his inebriated state, Charles knew when to shut up. 

“This is a bad idea.” 

“Is it?” 

“This shortcut I mean.” Matteusz glanced over down the steep hill. “Not when you’re like this.” 

“I’m fine,” Charles shot back. He didn’t want Matteusz to think he was incapable of walking. 

“Wait, don’t-” Matteusz called, his voice the last thing Charles heard before he slipped.

   Charles had fallen down a hill, in the darkness of early morning, and woken up to the natural light pouring through his open curtains. He had expected the light to sting but he felt okay, minus a fogginess in his head. 

Matteusz was nowhere to be seen. He was usually on time for his duties, but maybe Charles had just missed him. There was tea and breakfast on the side, fresh clothes and the open window. Charles just hoped he hadn’t done anything stupid yesterday. 

(Charles could remember looking up at him, opening his mouth, a horrified expression on Matteusz face. He couldn’t remember what he said, which was somehow worse.) 

He dressed himself. In the mirror, he spotted a small scratch on his forehead. (He could remember falling last night. Maybe just the stairs. He was drunk after all.) 

Matteusz was still missing as Charles went about his day. He had done his lessons alone, then was served by a new servant at lunch. By the time his mother had her meetings, he was convinced Mattuesz was avoiding him. He let Councillor Ames speech wash over him, recounting the last night’s events again, trying to find where he went wrong. 

Charles recalled his face when he had called him ‘Matti', his warning of caution, then a weightless falling, as if time slowed down. That part felt even blurrier, perhaps he had hit his head, even if it didn’t hurt. In fact, he hadn’t even been hungover. It was like- 

“Magic,” Ames was saying, “is evil.” 

(“Magic,” Charles recalled himself saying yesterday, “but you’re not evil.”) 

“Yes, my lord?” 

Without realising he had stood up. It wasn’t just the councillor’s eyes on him, but the whole meeting room. “Um, I agree with the councillor.” 

“What was she saying?” 

He winced: the queen never went easy on him. “Er.” 

“Just go Charles,” she said sternly, “it’s clear your mind is elsewhere.” 

“My apologies,” he said. Usually being told off like a child would be upsetting, but there was already something else on his mind. 

Charles forced himself to walk out the room slowly. Once he was back in the empty hall, he took off running towards his room. He sunk into his bed, shaking, as the events of the night before finally clicked into place. 

  He had been falling, Mattuesz shouting something. Not for help, something else. Words he didn’t recognise. 

Charles had stopped falling, more like drifting, like a feather caught in the wind. The world suddenly slowed, until he had harmlessly landed on a patch of grass and wildflowers that hadn’t been there before. 

Matteusz had gotten down too, suddenly crouched in front of him. He had wiped the small scratch on his face gently and suddenly the bleeding had stopped. 

“Are you okay?” 

Charles was dazed. “You did something.” 

“No I didn’t,” Matteusz said, too quickly. “You just got lucky.” 

“No, it was you,” he had repeated, with clarity. “I was floating, it was like…” 

“Don’t say it.” 

But he had said it. “Magic. You have magic. But you’re not evil.” 

“I’m not anything.” 

“It all makes sense,” he had said, feeling suddenly sober, “all those fights we won - that was you. I thought I was special. I thought I was a hero.” 

“I needed to protect you,” Matteusz whispered. “I will keep protecting you. I’m sorry.” 

He had put his hands on his face and for a second Charles had thought he was going to be kissed. Instead, there was just blankness, nothing. 

Matteusz had made him forget. 

Charles had finally caught up with Matteusz after training with his knights. He had fought better than usual, filled with so much anger that he had even managed to beat Lord Singh. 

He had been with the same musician they saw yesterday, watching from a distance. 

“Let’s go for a ride,” he had suggested. The musician girl had been a stable hand and given them a horse each and they headed into the quietness of the forest. 

“How’s your head?” There was a forced playfulness to Matteusz’ voice. 

“Alright, considering how far I fell.” 

Matteusz had stopped. “I-” 

“I remember.” Charles stopped his horse and slid off him. “Have you made me forget other things?”

“No, never. I only ever used my magic to help you. Memory spells are tricky.” 

“You used untested dark magic on me?” 

Charles was starting to wonder if going somewhere alone with a magic user was a bad idea. If it was up to his Mother, Matteusz would be executed by the next morning. (He couldn’t let that happen. Charles couldn’t be that wrong about him.) 

“It wasn’t dark magic,” Matteusz said, “no magic is dark-” 

“Experience tells me otherwise. Magicians killed my Father.” 

“I know and I’m sorry that happened. But we are not all like that.” Matteusz stepped back, like he was the one to be afraid. “I will leave tonight. You won’t have to see me again. Please, don’t tell the queen.”

“How could you say that?” Charles asked. “I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

“You have done it to others like me,” Matteusz said. He still looked scared. 

“Is that why you didn’t tell me the truth?” 

“It is dangerous to be magic,” he explained. “I could take no chances.” 

“I understand. I have my own secrets. Even from you.” 

Matteusz didn’t ask. (He wished he would. Then he could do something. One kiss, if he really was going to leave, if Charles was allowed one indulgence.) 

“For what it’s worth, I wish for you to stay. I will keep your secret. You have saved my life so many times, I owe you that.” 

Mattuesz looked relieved. “Thank you.” 

(When Charles woke up the next morning, it was Matteusz opening the curtains and letting the light in.)

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 13 (Final Chapter)

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11|12 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - ... Art - Art - Art

To those of you who have made it this far through this story; congratulations. You literally just read a novel length romance about a Goblin King and a Human Prince. The final tally for this story? 149,053 Words. In my doc file, this totals to 239 pages (size 11/arial font) . I made a final art piece to commemorate this chapter, HERE.

This has been... Such a journey. Such an adventure. I have loved every last second of this and I hope you all did too. I don’t know how this chapter will be received, but for now, this will be the end for Nikostratus and Grier...

Thank you all so very much for your support, and please please PLEASE reblog/comment/ask/DM me with your thoughts or prompts or ideas or headcannons. I love these two and I can’t talk about them enough...

If you love this story, please also consider supporting me on BuyMeACoffee which you can access through my MasterList above. Want more of the boys? I’d willingly take commissions on them, or any of my other characters (or a new one, just for you!). Times are tough for everyone, and I hope I was able to bring a little light for a time with this story...

Much love, and thank you.

I skimmed the last line once more, then glanced over the entire document to be sure that everything else was properly in order before signing my name neatly at the bottom. I passed the page to Hibik and turned to the next. I felt the very tip of my eyebrow twitch as my eyes settled on it and I looked up at the goblin.

“Lord Hibik-”

“Apologies, My Prince,” He rushed to explain, “I know you do not usually sign anything that is in goblinese. However, this is simply a trade manifesto from one of the outlying cities. If you so wish, I can translate every word for you before you sign.”

I waited patiently for him to finish, but plucked up the parchment and held it out to him none-the-less. “While I appreciate your diligence, and certainly trust you in all manners of state, I simply cannot sign anything I cannot read for myself.” I told him, my voice formal and flat, but still with the lingering edges of my exhaustion in it. “I have no doubt it is exactly what you say it is, however should I choose to sign it and it is brought before me at some other time, I would be unable to distinguish it from anything else in goblinese.” I shook my head. “If I cannot understand something without a mediary, then I should not be trying to pass authority on it.”

Hibik nodded, dropping his gaze lightly. Seeming humbled. “Of course, My Prince. You have proven once more your unerring logic in such matters of state... My apologies to have questioned your wisdom at all.”

“Have it translated if it is urgent. Otherwise, it shall just have to wait until my goblinese has advanced or…” I dropped off, and felt my throat get tight.

The King’s secretary nodded again, and I could see the sad tinge around his eyes at my words. I started to search for some formal platitude. Some simple comfort to reassure him that everything would be fine… But I found the lie stuck to the roof of my mouth uncomfortably and I could not force it free. I looked down at the last document on the desk before me instead, pretending to read through it. My eyes ran over the first paragraph about four times before I was finally able to begin actually comprehending it. I tried not to think about the fact that the Master Healer was still visiting with the only other person with authority to sign such documents. And the painful knowledge that the individual was still in no state to do so. I tried to resist the urge to look over at the door to his chambers every few seconds. As if I would be able to discern what was happening or what fresh prognosis the Healer would bring. And I worked very hard to deny that I already knew what his conclusions would be.

It took me a little longer than usual to read the final document that required my signature, but finally it was done. Just as I was finishing with the usual dab of my quill at the end of my full name, there was a light knock on the door. I glanced up as Seoc opened it, and was mildly surprised to see the General standing beyond, his hands neatly tucked behind his back.

Hibik took the final page to sand as Seoc and Damjan spoke together softly. When Seoc glanced over at me, I gave him a small nod of approval, which he quickly relayed to the General. Damjan strode over slowly, a few crumpled pages in his own hands. I resisted the urge to sigh, and the prickling of hairs at the back of my neck as I longed to be done with all this official tedium. Longed to be back in the quiet solitude of the King’s sick room. I swallowed the lump in my throat as subtly as I was able, and moved to stand in order to greet the General.

He raised one large hand. “Perhaps it is best if you remain seated, My Prince.” He informed me as his own greeting, which splashed a cold chill down my spine.

Hibik lingered, signed documents in hand, glancing between myself and Damjan. I saw the pair exchange a brief glance, one which communicated far more than most, and saw the edges of the secretary’s lips twitch. Perhaps debating if he should stay. But when he glanced over to me again, I waved him away with a reassuring nod.

“Thank you for your time, My Prince.” he told me hesitantly, bowing low. 

Damjan shifted as Hibik made his way out, and I turned my attention to him. “What brings you, General?”

The hesitation he presented me with had another icy breath running down my back. I watched the man shift again, clenching and unclenching his oversized hands around the papers within them. I glanced down at that, then back up to his face. I allowed one eyebrow to raise ever so slightly. Damjan cleared his throat.

“I have just received word from our… “contacts” in the Kingdom of Geriveria.” He told me, his voice thin with his persistent reluctance.

He dropped off, and I made a point not to let my eyes wander. Fixing him with a steadfast gaze. When he still had not spoken after a few moments, I tapped one finger lightly on the small table beside me where I had set my quill and inkwell.

“I assume you have some news which you deemed important enough to bring before me.” I concluded flatly, and was not reassured as the General winced. “Please, proceed.”

Damjan straightened, collecting himself. “... Our contacts have confirmed the information stating King Tibertius had fallen ill just after our visit to the castle…” He gritted his teeth, and dropped his eyes, “... And I have just received word… that last night he succumbed to his illness.”

The world around me seemed to shift at his words... I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Wasn’t sure what that news elicited in me. I froze for a moment, staring at him blankly. I felt my thumb roll thoughtlessly against the fabric of the armchair I was seated in.

“... The human King is dead?”

I watched his eyes flick up to me from the ground, equally uncertain what to make of my uncharacteristically callous and pointed remark. He nodded slowly. “Yes… It has not been formally announced yet, however I am confident in our sources who have reported it.”

I turned this over for a moment in the hollow echoing expanse of my mind. “Was it the Rotting Sickness?” My voice sounded distant, and I wasn’t entirely sure I had spoken at all.

“It is unclear at this time, though we do not believe it likely.” He responded softly. “Even given that he refused our protective Warding, there were other factors in place for his benefit.”

I nodded ever so slightly, running my whole hand slowly over the arm of my chair now. “Crown Prince Valerianus will send formal word to us soon.” I told him. “Be sure to have an appropriate response prepared. And tighten the patrols and guard at the border, in case there is any backlash from the announcement.”

I saw him hesitate again. “... My Prince-”

“Keep abreast of your ‘contacts’ as well.” I continued, pretending he hadn’t spoken. “I wish to know if Crown Prince Valerianus is officially coronated, or if he otherwise sets a date for it.” I glanced off to the side, hardly realizing I was no longer really seeing anything around myself anymore. “I will draft a letter for him, and a formal statement, in preparation for that news as well.”

Damjan nodded his affirmation. “As you wish, My Prince…” He chewed on his tongue only briefly before speaking again, “... And if you need someone to talk to… I wanted to let you know I am here for you. In whatever capacity you may have need of me.”

I stood, unhurried, and tugged my vest to straighten it as I did. “I do appreciate the offer, General, but there is no need.”

“Prince Nikostratus,” He followed quickly, before I could dismiss him, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, “Whatever else your relationship with that man was… he was still your father.” I stiffened slightly at the word. “This is not easy news to bear, in any situation.”

I returned my gaze to him, my expression still set in stone. “Thank you for your concern, General Damjan, however I can assure you, I am fine.” I paused briefly, glancing over towards the bedroom in a moment of weakness. “... I would request this information remains between us for now, though.” I almost winced, but squared my shoulders instead. Keeping my voice even, my features stony. “I believe it would be best for Princess Morgana to hear this news from me.”

He dipped his head respectfully. “Of course, My Prince.” I nearly jumped with surprise as his big hand fell on my shoulder. “Whatever you need. Do not hesitate to ask.”

I nodded to him curtly, and he withdrew his hand. Dropping into a polite bow before he took his leave. I turned my attention to the back room, making my way over with halting steps intermittently set amid my long stride. The Master Healer was just gathering up his things as I approached. He turned and bowed to me, his long beard brushing the floor.

“My Prince.” He intoned respectfully.

“How is the King?” I asked, my voice flat to withhold my impending dread of his answer.

The Master Healer flinched, unable to conceal his thoughts quite so easily. “He remains the same, My Prince.” He replied softly. “I have given him a tonic to ease his symptoms and perhaps allow for a more fitful rest… However there is not much more I can offer for him at this time.”

I nodded, burying the sorrow and disappointment at his words deep into my already hollowed out chest. “Thank you, Your Grace,” My eyes followed him as he slowly raised from his bow, “I appreciate your efforts greatly.”

“I only wish there was more I could do, My Prince.” He murmured.

Another curt nod. Which was the best I could manage. “Seoc will show you out.” I informed him numbly.

My attendant closed the bedroom door behind them, for which I was grateful. They had all stopped trying to convince me to retire to my own chambers a few days ago, as they had realized it would fall on ears both too stubborn and too deaf to their pleas. Even Morgana and ina Morag relented their persuasive efforts, instead focusing on bringing whatever they could to me here. I tried to pretend I stayed out of duty and responsibility. I tried to pass off my vigil as nothing more than what would be expected of any other individual so politically tied to the King as I was. It made it easier, in a way, than trying to accept my real reasons... It stung that I was apparently not hiding it well from the others; that they could see my vulnerability, and perhaps that they had some understanding of my decision that I could not grasp myself.

Slowly, I lowered myself into the armchair beside the bed, finally building the courage to look upon the King once more. I watched his labored breathing for a few long minutes, listening to the raspy rush of air in and out of his lungs. My palms came to my lap, and I thumbed at them absentmindedly as I felt the stone I had sheltered behind for the formal proceedings slowly cracking and crumbling away.

I glanced down at my hands, and found they were shaking. “.... King Tibertius is dead.” I informed him, my voice soft to preserve the hushed silence of the chamber. I hesitated, squeezing my thumb into my palm until it hurt. “... my… my father... is dead…” I finally released a heavy sigh, and felt my shoulders slump. “... I honestly don’t… I don’t know how to feel about it…”

My gaze lifted back to look over at him, and I shuddered at the sight. I didn’t like seeing him lay so still. I had spent days watching him, a statue on guard at his side. Silent and unmoving. I wasn’t sure I could do it for even a moment longer. I shifted, then stood again, reaching over to take up the cooling cloth from the water basin beside the bed. I settled on the edge of the mattress beside him. So that I could reach him better, I told myself. I brushed the wild bangs out of his face, then smoothed the damp cloth across his brow. 

He seemed to sigh beneath my touch, and I bent over him to study his face. His skin was more grey than green now, and I could feel the heat rising off his body. I traced my eyes over the edge of his jaw, down to the point of his chin. I committed the shape of his nose to memory, and lingered on the curve of his lashes against his cheek. Before I had even realized I was doing it, I found my fingers skimming along the prominent ridge of his brow, and my thumbs smoothing down his slender eyebrows. He shifted beneath my touch, so slightly I thought perhaps I might have imagined it. I withdrew my hand, hesitating. Placing the cloth back in the basin on the bedside table. But I couldn’t help returning to cup his face, and run my thumb along the crest of his cheek. I felt the tiny beveling of his grey-green skin, taking a moment for it. I had never so carefully studied the quality of his flesh without some other thought or pressure weighing on me. I chose to do so now. To memorize everything I possibly could... His fever burned at the pads of my hand, but I ignored it.

The now familiar ache settled in my chest, throbbing with each pulse of my heart. I ran my hand down the side of his face, along the curve of his throat. My fingers cupped around the back of his neck, and I gave a gentle squeeze. I stared at his eyes, longing for them to open again. Longing to see those mischievous, sparkling red irises. It had been days since he had last opened his eyes… Not since he had begged me to lay alongside him…

With his last request heavy on my mind, I looked over my shoulder at the door, then back down at him. My numb fingers rose of their own accord, and fumbled with the buttons on my vest. Then tugged my tunic haphazardly from its tuck as I folded the vest to set on the cushion of the armchair beside us. Once my boots joined it, I took a steadying breath then carefully climbed into the bed next to him. Now I knew I wasn’t imagining it when his head turned weakly. As if he could sense me there… I knew I was fooling myself. I gently collected him into my arms, and nearly faltered for the limpness of his body. But there was a strange reassurance of feeling his raspy breath against my collarbone. I rested my chin on the top of his head, shivering slightly despite the hot body I had tucked against me.

“... I don’t know how to tell Morgana…” I breathed quietly, uncertain what else to do. My eyes squeezed shut. “Gods… I just… I-I can’t… With everything else…” I wrapped my arms a little further around him. “... Please... Grier…” The taste of his name stung my mouth. “I can’t do this by myself…” I swallowed hard. “Y-you always asked me what I wanted… a-and I never had an answer for you… Usually because I just.. I didn’t know… but…” I buried my face in his damp hair. “But I know I don’t want this… and I know I was… hesitant… A-and… maybe reluctant to… to let this relationship be anything more than political...” The words felt heavy and foreign in my mouth, yet as I spoke them, it seemed easier to voice the rest. I shook my head, still working to dam the pain starting to build in my throat and eyes. “But that doesn’t… that doesn’t mean that I…” I stopped again, swallowing hard and taking a deep steadying breath. “Please… I need… I n-need you to get better… I need you to come back… I-I don’t know what I’m doing anymore… I need you to tell me…” I closed my eyes, knowing I was gushing uselessly, but unable to help myself. “Y-you asked me… you asked me to be strong… to do the best for…” I hesitated. “For our people… I’m… I’m trying… but I-I’m… I’m not the best for them… You are… and I-I… I can’t… It’s… I-it sounds stupid but…” Again I stopped, and laid quietly beside him. Hearing his steady if ragged breathing against me. Feelin the heat of him burn through the fabric of my tunic. Trying to sort through the jumble of thoughts and emotions rallying to burst from me.  “... I never used to think of my future… I-I didn’t think I had much of one… but… b-but now I can’t think of a future for me… of a future without you in it…”

I held my breath for a long moment. As if waiting for him to answer. Waiting for him to fill the long silence as he always had before… Instead, I felt myself being blanketed by it. Felt it wriggle and stuff its way down my throat, until it threatened to choke the very air out of my lungs. I hated the silence, as I never had before. It burned and rang in my ears. It smothered me.

“W-what am I doing?” I mumbled to myself, trying to rid myself of the stillness and slowly starting to untangle my body from the goblin’s. “I’m losing my mind-”

I froze suddenly. Not daring to move. Not even daring to draw a breath. After a few shuttering beats of my heart, I slowly looked down to confirm what I thought I had felt… And found Grier’s hand latched weakly on my arm. As if he had heard me. As if he had felt me start to pull away from him.

I knew it was stupid. I was certain it was just some sort of… reflexive reaction. But then he shifted, burying his nose back against my shirt. And I decided I didn’t care. I latched onto the hope that maybe… just maybe… he had somehow heard me. He had sensed my body beside his. 

I suddenly remembered the Dowager Queen Morag’s words again as clearly in my mind as if she had been standing over us at that moment. He has good reason to. Is this what she had meant? If Grier needed a reason to come back, to fight this… then perhaps I could remind him he had one… Hadn’t he once said he could listen to the sound of my voice all night? I wondered if he could hear it from wherever he was. If it could bring him back...

“... Hibik has been bringing me any matters of state that need approval.” I told him softly, hesitantly. “I swear… it seems endless… there’s always something else to sign, something else to review…” I sighed, shifting slightly, biting at my tongue for a long moment. “... At least right now, I can use the excuse of not knowing goblinese… that cuts the paperwork down some…” I swallowed, trying to think what else to say. Already feeling anxious that the silence was building too long. “A-all I know is the alphabet… and Korol… Ussta bez, eto chen… umm… Nazia which means ‘name’... a-ah, but you know that…” I flushed slightly. Then I felt him shift against me, felt his breath on my neck, and almost shivered. I hesitated, then ran my hand over the back of his head. “Wh-what else… umm.. Cara, and ina… shiba, onsa… your mother calls Morgana onsakin… th-they get along a little too well, I think…”

I struggled for a while, feeling foolish. But the softness of his breath against my skin, and his hand on my arm, gave me the confidence to continue. For whatever it was worth...

….

“When I was five or so, I got sick like this,” I told him, brushing my fingers through his hair, “High fever, raspy lungs. I remember my mother sat with me all night. Read me stories, and stroked my head until I fell asleep.” I paused, twirling one strand of his hair around my finger. “... We have portraits of her in the halls. Not many, but a few. So I’ll never forget her face… I’d like to send for one, I think… If that would be alright with you.” I put the strand back and delicately picked up another. “But I also remember how she smelled… strange isn’t it? That’s what I remember best about her. She smelled like lilies. I don’t know how, but she always smelled like fresh picked lilies… It hurts a little to think that Morgana smells a lily and doesn’t think of our mother like I do.” My lips twitched distractedly. “Now she thinks of me, because she knows how much I like them… She doesn’t understand quite why… I-I don’t know if I ever told her.”

Grier shifted, nuzzling himself against me and letting out a soft sigh. I released his hair to reach carefully across the bed. Plucking the cloth from the basin. I would need to get more soon; all the water was almost gone. I wrung out the excess, then gently smoothed it across his forehead. Then over his temples. I turned his head and traced it across his lips. His long tongue came out briefly to swipe the moisture that lingered there.

“I remember her voice, too… She had a delicate voice. I don’t think she ever raised it much above a whisper.” I shook my head. “She never yelled… Whenever I did something that perhaps I shouldn’t have, she never yelled at me… She would just get this look… like she was disappointed I hadn’t made a better choice…” I snorted. “I think that was worse somehow… Morgana looks a lot like her, I think. Though my mother had this beautifully rich dark skin… I was very jealous of it. I wanted to have the color of her skin for my own. And it was always very soft.”

I ran the cloth back and forth over his neck. Around the edge of his shoulder blades. Down his spine. Smoothing it across his muscles and grey-green skin.

“I think she would have liked you… I hope she would have… I-I’m not sure how she would have felt about… all this.” I glanced around the chambers, delicately lit by a few sparkling candelabras, strategically placed. I had tucked the rest into neat rows along the tops of the bookshelves. Looking less cluttered and more displayed. “Not the goblin part… I think she would’ve been ah… mostly ok with that…” I chuckled, returning the cloth to the basin and brushing my hand through his soft hair again. “... I don’t think I had really thought about it much back then… girls, I mean…” I swallowed hard, staring down at the foot of the bed while I stroked his hair. “O-or boys for that matter… I wonder if she would’ve been... s-surprised… Though she always seemed to know me better than I knew myself… Valerianus was very, ah... ‘serious’, so the court girls didn’t care for him much, save for the ambitious ones. But they were always fawning over me…” I frowned. “I-I didn’t like it. I hated going to balls and galas or formal dinners. My mother would just laugh and say that I would figure it out when I was a little older…” I sighed. “It sounds silly now, I’m sure… Then she….” I dropped off, taking a steadying breath. “A-and Morgana was the center of my world after that, so I never... I never really questioned it again… I was very good at being polite, at being gracious. But I never returned any… ah…” I shook my head again. “I think… I think I was a year or two shy of twenty when I saw… this man… he was… ah…” I cleared my throat lightly, “He was from another Kingdom… older, but only barely in his thirties if even that… I just remember being struck absolutely dumb by him… I could hardly breathe when I realized he was in the same room as me, and I kept staring… by the Gods it was so embarrassing… I didn’t know what to do with myself around him…” 

I jumped at the light knock coming from beyond the bedchambers. Quickly, I looked down at Grier, but he was still in a deep sleep. He was tucked quite neatly against me, his arms wrapped around my middle, his ear against my sternum. He looked rather like he was smiling, I thought. It had been only a day or two since I had given up my post in the armchair beside the bed in favor of lying alongside him. And I hadn’t left since. We are married now after all, I reasoned with my guilt and self-consciousness. I should be allowed... I ran through all the different things I had started telling him since then. Arbitrary things at first. The way the mountains looked out my window. The odd items he had left about the room and where I had put them. Then I started opening up a little more. Telling him little snips of my memories. About the first horse I had ever ridden, and the first time I had held a sword. About Morgana’s first steps, and her first words. 

Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed like his sleep was less listless when I was speaking. And I found I felt a little better talking to him, rather than lying quietly and simply worrying over the state of him. I constantly feared leaving the silence for too long, as if it were the only tether he had. Barely daring to sleep for fear of it… I wasn’t sure I had ever spoken as much as I had in the past two days.

I stroked his hair back a final time, then carefully untangled myself from his embrace. A soft groan petered from him, and his lips twitched. But I was able to free myself and lay him gently back into the bed.

By the second quiet knock, I was at the door in the foyer and tugging it open. Hibik and the Master Healer stood there, both looking appropriately serious. I didn’t say anything. Didn’t make an attempt to hide my bare torso or feet. Simply pulled the door open the rest of the way and let them in. Nodding to their gracious greetings and formal bows. I was far too exhausted to care about any of that, though I felt a familiar numbness falling about my shoulders like an old coat as I followed them into the bedroom. The Healer went straight to the King’s side, while Hibik moved to take the basin from the table and brought it off to the other room to fill. I saw the Healer’s hands glow, watched him shift them back and forth over Grier’s body, as he had many times before. For his part, the King rolled slightly, grumbling something softly. It made my heart leap lightly in denial of the numbness that had taken up residence in my chest. But I watched the Healer anxiously.

He lowered his hands as Hibik returned, and glanced over at the secretary. Then he shook his head and put his hands on his hips. My heart plummeted back down.

“Well, My Prince,” breathed the Healer, and I stiffened as he turned to me, “I am not sure what you have been doing… but I urge you to keep it up.”

I blinked at him slowly. “What?”

A wide smile suddenly split his lips, and his hands tapped eagerly on his hips. “He’s doing better… Much better really…” I nearly swooned at his words, and reached out to steady myself on the bedpost. “His fever is all but gone. His lungs are clearing… I might be able to do more for him now. A potion perhaps. To revive him more.”

Hibik could barely contain a gasp, and clapped his hands together, relief filling his face. “You mean, he’s going to be alright? He’ll pull through?”

The Healer scoffed. “It’s miraculous! Really it is!” He shifted his weight and looked over his shoulder. “Almost overnight, the King’s condition has improved drastically. I’ve never quite seen anything like it.” He nodded, smiling again. “... I do think the worst is now behind us.”

My head felt completely detached from my body, and I thought if I hadn’t been holding the bedpost I might have floated away. Hibik was dancing from foot to foot, making lengthy exclamations in goblinese. I didn’t need to know all the words to understand his excitement. To feel it palpably around us, though I dared not embrace it myself. The doctor patted the air.

“We still have some ways to go yet, My Prince, Lord Hibik.” He reminded us. “It’ll take time for the King to regain his strength. It may be a month or more before he fully returns to his old vigor.”

“But he will?” I asked, and was surprised at the softness of my voice.

The Healer gave a final nod. “I have little doubt anymore, My Prince. I shall prepare a draught for him. However, given his state... I would expect him to wake anytime now.”

Hibik squealed with delight, and I raised my hand to calm him. The goblin quickly clamped his hands over his mouth, and the Healer tutted him. I glanced at Grier, then back at the pair of goblins.

“Lord Hibik, would you let my sister know the good news, please?” I instructed, then nodded to the vase of wilting flowers on the small round table at the back of the couch. “Perhaps she would like to get a fresh bouquet for him. She can come visit when she’s able.”

“I am not certain our gardens can survive another visit from the Princess,” He mused with a chuckle, still shifting from foot to foot, “However, I am more than pleased to let her decimate the remaining for the sake of our King.”

“Have some hot broth ready for him, the kitchens can send it straight up,” I added, glancing at the Healer for confirmation of this choice, “And let the Dowager Queen know as well. Morgana may want to tell her herself however, so I would suggest she be the first you inform.”

“Excellent, My Prince,” Hibik bowed, “I am most eager to spread this joyous news.”

The Healer bowed deeply as well, then they both made their way out. I closed the door behind them, my entire body tingling. Now that they were gone, I pinched myself hard to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. My feet carried me back to the bedroom of their own accord. And I climbed into the bed and slipped up alongside him. Almost as soon as I settled, Grier rolled into me, tucking himself into my chest once more. I felt his contented sigh against my breastbone, and nearly shivered from the sensation. I wrapped my arms gently around him, resting my chin on the top of his head once more.

“... I think Josep knew before I did.” I told him softly, running my hands up and down his back. “He was always lingering late into the night. Always refilling my wine as soon as it emptied… I’m not sure h-how he knew… I noticed the long glances, and couldn’t help a few of my own…” I sighed, burying my nose in his hair for a moment. “He was… cute… Just a little shorter than me, but thin as a bean pole… his hair was raven black, and his eyes were a soft stormy grey… But bright as the moon at midnight...”

….

A few hours later, I adjusted the flowers, plucking a few errant leaves and placing them in the waste bin. Morgana was an... ambitious picker. Sometimes the roots and half the rest of the plant came along with the bloom. But she always picked the best and most colorful flowers, and the bouquet she had brought was perhaps her largest and loveliest yet. Not for the least because of her enthusiasm presenting them. The room felt anxiously still in her absence and I brushed my fingers over the petals, drawing in a deep breath of their soft scent. Trying unsuccessfully to calm my racing heart now that I was alone again... Nearly alone.

“... Been making yourself at home, have you?”

I jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of the thin voice from over my shoulder. My heart leapt into my throat as I spun on my heel, and my eyes shot wide. A wry, tired smile greeted me, set below glittering scarlet eyes that shifted around the room only briefly before settling on me. I tried to remember the last time I had seen them... I didn’t realize how much I had missed them until that moment.

Grier. 

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I stared at him, my eyes, frozen in place. Not entirely convinced I wasn’t dreaming. Hardly able to believe what I was seeing as the goblin slowly eased himself up to sit with his back against the headboard. He cocked his head to the side, raising one slender brow at me.

“I come back from the dead, and this is the greeting I receive?” He pouted. “Honestly, I think I was hoping for a bit more-”

I was at the bed before he had even finished forming the words. I caught the back of his head in my hand, nearly falling over him as I kneeled on the side of the mattress in my desperation to reach him. Crashing our mouths together so suddenly it was almost painful. His words sputtered against my lips, but then I could taste his smile again and my heart ached. Gods, I had missed that too. The warmth of his kiss, the shape of his mouth. I didn’t want to leave it again. His own hand came up, cupping my jaw, returning my kiss with such enthusiasm I thought my lungs might just collapse. Which only served to remind me that I had forgotten how to breathe.

I pulled back, gasping for air for half a second. Then dove back in to kiss him again. Now I could feel his weak laughter bubbling against my lips. Gently he pulled himself away, stroking his hand along my cheek to still my pursuit, running his thumb under my eye.

“Now that’s more like it.” He murmured dreamily, his eyes looking carefully back and forth between mine.

I flushed deeply, feeling the heat sweep across my face with a fury to match how his own feverish skin had once been. I started to pull away bashfully. “I-I’m sorry-”

He pushed the words back into my mouth with another kiss, forcing them deep into my throat in denial of them. My heart thrummed with delight. I lost myself for a moment more, and our kiss deepened. But he felt weaker than I remembered, his press intense but not as strong. I reminded myself of the state of him, and did not fight to keep our mouths locked when he finally pulled back again. Even though I longed to do so...

“H-how are you feeling?” I asked breathlessly instead, lingering with the tips of our noses brushing together. I gripped the back of his neck firmly, as if afraid letting go would allow him to float off again, slowly easing to sit on the mattress beside him.

“Tired.” He admitted. “And by the Gods I can’t remember ever having been this hungry before in my life…” His smile returned, pointy teeth and all. “But better… much better.” His thumb traced the edge of my lashes. “... Now that I’ve seen you again.”

I couldn’t help laughing in relief, but it broke as it fell away from my lips, and I saw his brow furrow with concern. I shook my head and his hand at my cheek weakly moved to still me. He reached out with his free one, and I didn’t hesitate to meet it with mine between us. Intertwining our fingers together.

“I-I… I thought that… I thought…” I choked on the words, my lips trembling.

Grier kissed them gently. Stilling them with his own. He peeled back slowly, only to lean back in half a breath later to lightly kiss them again. I spun like a top, my heart racing so fast in my breast I wasn’t entirely sure it was beating at all.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, my young Prince” He assured me sweetly, and I stumbled over another laugh.

“I… I-I… I’ve been thinking… I’ve been thinking a lot…” I breathed, my voice still shaky.

“Uh-oh,” He mused, “That sounds ominous. Should I prepare myself?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “Would you sh-shut up for half a second?” I belittled the words with a light hearted tone, and punctuated it with a kiss of my own. 

In truth, I was so happy to hear his voice again, I could have collapsed from relief. I wanted to hear it more. I wanted to listen to his voice for days, and to stare into those scarlet eyes, and feel the shape of his mouth against mine. But… He smiled against me, and tried to kiss me again as I pulled away. I shook my head. I had something to say, and I needed to say it, before I lost my nerve.

 “I-I’ve been thinking… a-and... I’ve decided… I d-decided that… I-I…”

“I hope this isn’t a farewell speech.” He teased as I fumbled for the words again. I shot him a look, and he quickly clamped his mouth shut. But damn that his smirk wasn’t still there on those blasted lips of his.

I took a deep, steadying breath. Staring down at our laps to avoid the temptation of his mouth. The silence rang heavy for a second, and I felt him squeeze my hand encouragingly. I could’ve collapsed with the emotion that sent spinning through me. He had barely been up for five minutes and already he was seeking to give me whatever support he could... Reminding me exactly why I had so much to say… So I sucked in a full lungful of as much air as I could possibly manage.

“... I don’t want to move into your rooms. And I don’t want you to move into mine. I want to have new rooms. To be our rooms. Up in the tower, with a balcony. But the bedroom doesn’t need a window, that way it stays dark. So you can still sleep in. And I want a bed that’s so big I might sometimes lose you in it. A-and I want a room off to one side that we can use as a nursery… Painted yellow… and I want to adopt… but I also want a few kids of yours… I-I don’t think I could do mine, because I really don’t want to sleep with anyone else and if there’s a way that maybe you didn’t have to lay with anyone either I-I think that would be better. But there is absolutely NO way I’m doing th-the ‘magical route’ and… and I’m still not even sure you weren’t just messing with me. I want to bring one of the portraits of my mother, and put her in the sitting room. Over the fireplace. B-but that means no kissing there, because I don’t want her staring at us. Then I want thrones, for the throne room. Proper thrones, not just poofy chairs. Because I’m not sitting on the floor, and if we have audiences with anyone (which we should), we’ll need a proper throne room. And I want to go to the ocean, every few years at least. I want to sit on the beach with you and watch the sunset, preferably on our anniversary. And I want a dog. Not a small dog, a big dog. Like a hunting dog. I-I don’t know if you like dogs, but I’d like one. And if I get a dog, Morgana is going to want a dog too, so we’ll just have to have two big dogs and… and…”

I glanced up at this point amid my rush of words that spilled out unchecked. And dropped off at the sight of Grier’s face. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen his eyes so wide. I thought they might fall out of his head. I shifted nervously, glancing down at our hands then back up at him. Not sure what it was I saw on his features and suddenly feeling shy.

“O-or… or you know… we could talk about it more… i-if you wanted-”

Once again he cut off my words with a kiss. I started at first, then instantly melted against him. He weakly pulled me closer, and I obliged his whim, until he could wrap his arm around my neck. He fell sideways to the mattress and onto his back, pulling me with him, releasing my hand to grope up my side. Slipping beneath my loose tunic to skim over my bare skin. My heart leaped and thudded and I fed him a tiny gasp.

“W-wait, you’re still-” I tried to pull away, but the goblin stubbornly kept himself latched around me. I dared not pull too hard, as I didn’t want to hurt him. “Y-you’re still healing.” I managed to mumble out against his lips.

“I don’t care.” He growled, but dropped back, peering up at me draped over him. “I just… I don’t care… I’m so… I’m just so…” He pulled me down, kissing me again. It was softer this time, as tender as any first kiss. But so full to bursting of emotion that I felt like I could taste it in my heart. After a few hot breaths, he finally pulled back again. “... Exactly how long have I been out??” He teased.

A pained look swept across my face, and his hand quickly came around to cup my jaw again soothingly. “I-I thought… I thought you were going to die…” I whispered, my voice as weak as his touch, “I thought I was going to lose you… a-and then I realized… I realized I had been so s-scared of having something to lose… that I didn’t even realize I was already losing it… I didn’t…” I took a deep steadying breath. “I-I told myself that if you woke up… if you got better… I wouldn’t... I-I … I don’t want to spend the rest of my life w-wondering… wondering what I could have had… but was too afraid to want…”

“... And what do you want?” He asked quietly as my voice petered out, his scarlet eyes growing warm.

“... I want you, Grier…” I breathed, the air fluttering in my chest, and his grip tightened at the sound of his name falling from my lips, “I want you. I want all of you…”

When our mouths met again, it was not with heat. It was… soft… Like petals brushing together. As delicate as a champagne flute, and filled with that same bubbly sweetness… I sunk into his mouth, as deep as I could go. I never wanted to come up for air. I fell beneath the waves of his emotion and I was content to let myself drown that I could fill my lungs with it. The warmth I had been missing filled my chest; that warmth that only he could bring to me. And it spread out to the very tips of my fingers and toes.

I’m not sure how long we remained interlaced together, our mouths moving in unison. But finally, we pulled apart. Neither one initiating our separation, both simply feeling it was the right moment to. I felt his breath on my face and realized I had closed my eyes. I let them slowly flutter open, and when I looked down at those dazzlingly scarlet eyes… I smiled.

His hand came up, his thumb tracing across my lips. Marveling at the shape of them. Which only made my smile grow, though I flushed shyly at his attention and darted my eyes to the side. I couldn’t remember the last time I had smiled… A soft wonder filled those ruby reds of his, and I suddenly and desperately longed to kiss him again. To taste every inch of him that my mouth could reach. Instead I slowly started to sit up. Gently pulling him with me.

“Y-you need to eat.” I told him softly. “To build up your strength…” I caught his hand as he slowly let it slide down my cheek, and I pressed it against my chest above my heart. “You need to get better. All the way better.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Good.” I said in a warning tone. “B-because I swear to the Gods and all that is holy, if you ever put me through that again, I will kill you.”

His boisterous laughter was drowned out by an eager knock at the door, quickly followed by said door opening. Hibik bustled in, near vibrating with delight. Tears in his eyes. I quickly adjusted myself to put a little space between us, my blush darkening.

“My King!” He cried, coming over, then bowing repeatedly. “Oh! Blesha’la ontow’a, you are awake!

“Ah, Hibik!” He grinned, reaching out to clasp the smaller goblin’s extended hand. “Am I glad to see you.”

“Likewise, my King.” He bowed repeatedly, shaking Grier’s hand vigorously. “Please, please tell me if I can be of any assistance! I have missed serving you with all my heart.”

“Well, my old friend,” He mused, “It seems I need to get back to full strength.” He brought his now freed hand up to stroke my cheek again, and I felt a fresh flush rising to my face at his touch. “After all, I have a Prince to marry!”

My eyes widened slightly at that. “... A-ah… O-oh…. Ummm…”

Hibik also fell silent, suddenly looking down at his feet and shuffling them. Grier looked back and forth between the two of us. His brow furrowed and his lips pursed.

“... Am I missing something here?”

“Well, my King, the thing… Per your wishes… ah.. The thing... the thing is… ah…” Hibik stammered, then glanced at me desperately.

I cleared my throat, hiding the twitching smile at the corners of my lips. “The thing is…technically…. technically… we’re already married.”

Grier stared at me for a long, long moment.

“... I beg your pardon?”

….

It took three days and many loud arguments to convince the goblin that he could not, in fact, nullify the marriage license just to ‘do it the right way’. And no, it didn’t matter that he was the King. It would in turn put our Treaty at risk, and would cause far too many ramifications, many that were possibly not even conceivable at that moment. It took a week for him to stop grumbling about it at every opportunity.

I stayed with him throughout that time. Making sure he ate. Watching him sleep. The first night I woke him up twice, just to be certain he could be roused. He was not a fan of that, but as I seemed insistent, he would merely blink at me a few times, give an exasperated sigh, then snuggle deeper into my arms. It delighted him endlessly that I had completely given up any semblance of pretending we should sleep separately. So he indulged my anxious checking and fussing to the best of his ability. As long as it meant I was never more than an arms length away.

Now I tried not to stare too much, tried to limit it to the occasional glance over at him. My nerves were shot, but despite the anxiousness swelling around me… Every time our eyes met, he smiled. And I felt my heart skip. 

Morgana bounced eagerly, alternating between walking at our side and darting ahead. She circled around us, as we were moving far too slowly for her liking, checking and assessing each bobble and bit in the hall on the way to the gardens.

Grier stumbled weakly, and I jerked forward to catch him. He looked up at me, flashing his pearly whites. “I’m alright.” He assured me.

“Perhaps we should wait until you are a little stronger-”

He waved his free hand, using my offered arm to carefully straighten himself. “As you refuse to leave my side for more than a minute, and Morgana informed me you haven’t been outside since I fell ill,” he began, his voice breathy, “You leave me no choice but to forcibly escort you to the gardens, my young Prince.”

“I-I think you are… exaggerating a little to say that I r-refuse-” I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand.

The King chuckled. “Mmm. Alright then, have it your way.” He interrupted, casting me a sidelong glance. “As your proper etiquette and honor will not allow you to leave your King’s side when he is under duress, it is my responsibility to be certain that you see some sunlight now and again.” His smile grew as Morgana darted back over to us. “Besides, I am bored of my rooms. The fresh air will do me some good, I am sure.”

Morgana returned his grin, bouncing in place. “Just wait until you see the surprise we have planned for you!” She told us. “It’ll make you both feel all better.”

I sighed, relenting and pushing her hair back out of her face for perhaps the hundredth time since we had started our trek. “Chickadee, where do you keep all your energy?” She giggled. “I’m tired just watching you.”

She pushed my hand away and started to dart back up the hallway. “Well, maybe if you ever slept anymore, you wouldn’t be so tired, Niko!” She exclaimed.

I cleared my throat and avoided Grier’s scolding eye. I also pretended not to notice he kept his arm wrapped around mine as we continued down the hall. It was better, I told myself. I could offer him more support that way. He still wasn’t back to his full strength yet, and this walk would likely push him to the extremes of what he had. But we were almost there.

Morgana’s head disappeared around the corner, and I felt my brow scrunch slightly as I watched her. The goblin’s fingers squeezed my arm gently, and I glanced down at him.

“Everything alright?” He asked, his voice tender.

I sighed quietly. “... I-I’m not sure she…” I swallowed, looking down at our feet. “M-maybe I didn’t explain King Tibertius’ passing to her as well as I should have…” My brow furrowed a little more. “Perhaps I was… too cold… I don’t think she understands-”

“You were very gentle.” He assured me, giving my arm another gentle squeeze and falling silent for a moment as we rounded the same corner we had seen Morgana disappear past. But when he spotted her further up the hall, dancing from foot to foot until she saw us again then darting off once more, he continued softly. “She’s young. And I don’t think she was very close to your father. She may not have fully processed it yet, being here.”

“How…” I stopped, but he gave me an encouraging nod. “H-how were you told? About your father, I mean?”

Grier thought about that for a moment, and we walked arm in arm quietly down the hall.

“It was… sudden.” He replied after a time. “He was badly injured in a skirmish…. I’m sure future historians will cite that as the instigating incidence of the hostility between our people…” I winced, but he patted my arm reassuringly. “That morning he was fine, and we… I am sure we broke fast together, because we usually did, but I don’t remember that day specifically… Then by that evening, he had passed.”

I winced. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, I apologize-”

“It’s ok.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember much at all from then. I don’t think I even knew he had been injured until both him and my mother missed dinner with me that evening. And I wasn’t brought to see him… not until after he had passed and they had… cleaned him up.” He tilted his head to the side, thinking for a long moment. “I remember being… sad, but more confused. I kept… forgetting, I guess. I would expect to see him places, and I think I asked about it once or twice before it really sank in that he was just… gone. And this is despite the fact that I saw his body.”

His steps had slowed, and I matched them carefully. After a moment, we had both come to a full stop, and he turned towards me, sliding his hands down to catch mine. I hesitated, trying to figure out what he needed in that moment. An apology? A story of my own? Perhaps he wanted space, or silence… or did he want some sort of embrace? I faltered, staring down at our hands and carefully running my thumbs over his. And feeling wholly inadequate not knowing how to comfort him. If that was even what he needed…

“... Morgana will be alright,” He told me after a few moments of silence, “She has you. And she is safe here.” Grier gave my hands a gentle squeeze, and I nodded timidly. The goblin shook himself, and I could hear his smile lacing his next words. “But come! Let’s not spoil our first outing in weeks.” I met his eyes, and felt a little more confident at the warmth in them. “We can talk more later, if you want to.”

I followed his lead as he turned to finish the last stretch before the main doors to the gardens. I didn’t even bother with an excuse, keeping his hand locked in my own and tucking it in my elbow. He moved a little closer, hooking his arm in mine until our thighs almost brushed as we walked.

Morgana had managed to push the massive door open on her own, and was waiting excitedly on the stairs before the gardens. She smiled at us as we approached then waved for us to follow her before taking off down the steps and onto the gravel. It crunched delightfully under her little feet, and I took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air as we made our way down the stairs as well, then out onto the path. The sun was bright and warm despite the chill, and I almost sighed as it splashed across my face. A few yards down, we rounded one of the hedges to find a thick blanket spread over the grass. There was a basket set there, and a few books, as well as some flowers tied in bundles that had Morgana’s signature roots and stems still attached. Safa and Seoc waited there, and they bowed to us as we approached. I felt a slight flush rise to my face, but tried not to let my step falter as I guided the King over.

My sister was already digging into the basket, pulling out dishes and bundles of food to pass to the other goblins, who helped her set the blanket. I couldn’t resist watching Safa with a rather critical eye, considering the way she interacted with my sister. I hadn’t had a chance to properly vet her before everything had happened, and found myself a little untrusting of her. After all, what did I know of this goblin? And she had been spending a lot of time with Morgana while I was tending the King. What if she was not the right influence for an impressionable young princess?

“Try not to scare the poor girl.” Came Grier’s quiet voice in my ear as I helped to carefully lower him to sit amid the pillows set on one side of the large blanket.

I looked at him in surprise, and his grin nearly split his face. I carefully fixed my expression, though I couldn’t completely hide the tightness in my voice as I replied. “I do not know what you mean, Your Majesty.”

Grier scoffed, tugging on my vest until I hesitantly settled onto the ground beside him. “Don’t start with that again.” He warned. Then he jerked his chin at the others a few feet away. “Your sister’s new Lady in Waiting. I saw that look.”

“What look?” I grumbled, my voice equally as soft as I watched Safa whisper something to Morgana. My sister laughed, glancing over at us. I felt my cheeks flush slightly.

The King’s chuckle answered me. “I had all of the ladies screened before I let them meet your sister.” He told me, shifting to sit a little closer to me. I stiffened at his proximity, feeling my face flush again. “Safa is from a good family, and she has a kind heart. Give her a chance, yes?”

I resisted the urge to scowl, considering the pair as they whispered and giggled to each other. Though I had to admit, Morgana did seem very pleased with her new Lady. Perhaps Safa felt my gaze on her, because her eyes darted up to me. I saw her shuffle nervously, offering me a slight bow. She glanced over at Morgana, then at Seoc, as if uncertain what to do with herself beneath my scrutiny.

Grier smacked my shoulder lightly. I started, turning my attention to him. “Leave the girl be.” He scolded good-naturedly. Then his smile tweaked at the corners. “Though I have to say, I like seeing this protectiveness of yours. Especially being on this side of it… Perhaps the father bear in you will be a boon to us in the near future.”

I didn’t get a chance to comment on that, as I had to suddenly struggle to keep myself upright as Morgana launched herself into me. My face instantly softened, and she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“This is lovely, Chickadee,” I told her, “Thank you for it.”

“It was Safa’s idea!” She replied, turning to settle properly on my lap and pulling a dish of finger foods over to us. “She said you and Grier deserved some quiet time together now that he was feeling better, and said since you have both been cooped up inside the fresh air would be good for you.”

I pretended not to notice Grier’s smug smirk, taking the offered nibble from her. “W-well… that was very thoughtful of her.”

“I did the flowers though!” She explained through a mouthful of food, sliding the tray over to Grier. “And I helped her cook!”

“Then we owe both of you our gratitude, little bird.” He mused, taking a piece of food and tossing it in the air to catch it in his mouth. She giggled, then promptly tried to do the same with far less success.

She babbled on about this and that for a while as we ate, then bounded out of my lap to sprint across the green. Safa turned from her conversation with Seoc a few yards away, and both beamed at the Princess who tugged lightly on the goblin’s colorful skirts. I watched quietly, taking a slow sip of the hot coffee my sister had sloppily poured us. I heard Grier’s relaxed sigh, turning my attention back to him.

“... How are you feeling?” I asked him nervously.

He groaned lightly, scooching a little closer and leaning his shoulder against my arm. “If one more person asks me that, I’m going to scream.”

I raised one brow, trying to pretend my heart wasn’t racing at his touch. “I suppose that would mean your lungs feel better then, yes?”

He laughed, settling himself somehow even closer to me. I swallowed nervously, glancing at him out the corner of my eye. “I’m tired.” He admitted, sluggishly pulling a tray of sugar powdered pastries closer. “But it’s nice to get out of that bed.”

“Perhaps we should head back.” I fretted, moving as if to call my sister over.

The goblin shook his head, popping one of the pastries in his mouth and resting his head on my shoulder. “Not yet.” He breathed. “I’m enjoying myself.” 

I tried not to shift noticeably, but couldn’t help a tiny shuffle. I even cleared my throat, glancing back at my sister and the other goblins. But they were too far away to be properly bothersome to my discomfort.

“What about you?” I looked over at him at his voice, his scarlet eyes rolling up to meet mine. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not the one who was…” I stopped, dropping off. Feeling my throat close up at the reminder.

I jumped as his hand slid over my thigh, and my heart somehow raced even faster. I wasn’t sure what to do with my eyes. I was pretty sure I had stolen too many peeks at him for me to reasonably be allowed another. So I stared at the ground a few feet away, angled slightly so I could still see him out the corner of one.

“Nikostratus, you need to take care of yourself too.” He told me softly, and his hand ran soothingly back and forth on my leg. “... You can’t just… throw yourself aside for the sake of everyone else…”

I slowly put my cup down in its saucer, and dropping my gaze to stare at my palms. “... I’m fine.”

He gave a soft ‘hmmm’ at that, but didn’t push it further as Morgana darted back over and plopped back into my lap. I stiffened slightly, feeling my face burn hot realizing that Grier was still leaning heavily against my shoulder. But if she noticed, she didn’t seem to mind.

“Niko! Can you do my hair?” She asked. “I want to show Safa what it looks like when you braid it. I brought the oils and comb!”

I hesitated, glancing over at the young noble lady as she sheepishly shifted closer. She stood at the edge of the blanket, her head politely bowed. A few beads of nervous sweat burst out at the collar of my shirt. But… no one seemed to bat an eye at the King currently lazing on my arm. I supposed we were technically married now, after all. That must be why...

I tried to calm my nerves, nodding briskly. “A-alright… but why don’t you read to us while I do?”

Safa brought over a small basket and a book, offering both to me with a shy smile. I considered her for a moment before taking it with a polite thanks. Morgana snatched the book from my hands and flipped to what she described as her ‘favorite goblin story yet’. Seoc and Safa began cleaning up our meal as Morgana started, and I carefully kneaded the oils through her hair. Grier adjusted himself to free my arms, slowly laying down beside me with his head on my bent legs. I looked around nervously… but again, no one seemed to even notice his switch except for me. And I had to admit, having him so close let me relax a little. I didn’t have to check on him as much when I could feel his chest expand with each breath against the crook of my knees.

I forced myself to focus on my sister’s hair, and carefully outlined the tracks with the tip of the comb before I began to form the tight braids along her scalp. I had always loved how fluffy and soft my sister’s hair was; it reminded me of my mother’s. Though hers had been a deep raven black while Morgana’s was more like a dark auburn. It was just as thick, however, and I worked gently to loosen the individual curly strands from each other properly before I smoothed them into shape with the oil. The oil would also help to keep the moisture in the wiry strands, and would help protect her scalp as I tugged the braids firmly into place. I started from the center, working my way to nearly the back of her skull before smoothing out the natural poof at the end of the strands and moving back to her hairline to start again.

I was distinctly aware of Grier’s eyes watching my fingers nimbly braid her hair. Then Safa’s once she had finished clearing the picnic. She kneeled down a few feet away and watched with unconcealed curiosity. I felt a little stiff with the audience. But the King’s eyes drooped lazily as Morgana read on, and Safa proffered a tentative question here and there as I worked, spoken with such reverence I found myself slowly relaxing. I answered her as best I could, my voice low so as to not interrupt my sister’s avid reading. She still scolded us for interrupting, and I hid a smirk in the corners of my mouth. Seoc stood a few feet away, also listening quietly with his head cocked to the side but politely turned.

As the sunlight slowly drifted further away from our cozy little spot, I saw Morgana stifle her third yawn. A glance at Grier told me he was also drifting in and out of the waking world. I finished the last plait along the top of Morgana’s head and brushed the back out into a gentle cloud of natural curls. I worked some of the extra oil in with my palms and watched the curls tighten slightly with the added moisture.

“I believe the end times might be coming,” I mused, as she yawned again, and she and Grier both spun to look up at me, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you so tired. Especially both at once.”

“The Princess was up early with me this morning, My Prince,” Safa offered politely, her voice soft, “She was very eager to help prepare this meal for you and the King.”

“Perhaps then it’s an early night for us all.” I suggested, smoothing back her hair one last time. Grier stretched lightly and yawned, starting to ease himself up.

Morgana ran her own hands over the top of her head, feeling the braids and giving me a sleepy smile. “Thank you, Niko.”

I pinched her cheek. “Thank you, chickadee… And Lady Safa. For setting this up for us.”

“It was my pleasure, My Prince,” Safa bowed her head, then glanced at Morgana, “... Should I bring you back to your rooms Princess? Perhaps we can work on your goblinese for a while before bed.”

“Yeah, I like that idea.” Morgana nodded, turning and wrapping her arms around me. “Goodnight, Niko.” She peeked shyly at Grier from my neck as I returned her hug. “Goodnight, Grier.”

“Goodnight, little bird.” He replied with a smile. “And thank you, again. I look forward to returning the favor someday soon.”

We saw them off as I helped Grier to his feet. Seoc bowed deeply, offering his aid as well, but the King waved him away. Dismissing him for the rest of the evening for a deserved break. We walked with him to the entrance of the castle, then bid him a farewell as he scurried off with the blanket and baskets tucked under his arms.

We walked quietly down the hall, back towards Grier’s rooms. He managed on his own for a while, but by the time we had reached the bottom of the stairs, he started to lean against me heavily again.

“We shouldn’t have stayed out for so long.” I fussed as we rounded the final corner before his hallway. “You can barely stand.”

Grier scoffed away my concern. “It’s good for me. Besides, I enjoyed spending time with you and your sister.” His head cocked sluggishly to the side. “I think she’s a little jealous of me now.” A grin split his thin lips. “I seem to be hogging all your attention.”

I sputtered lightly, a flush coming to my cheeks as I tried unsuccessfully to provide a better conclusion for him. The goblin merely laughed at that, looping his arms around mine and resting his cheek against it. My heart skipped again, and I blinked a few times to try and clear the swirl in my head. I checked about, but we seemed to be alone in the last stretch to his rooms.

His chambers were blessedly dark and still, and I felt heavier as soon as the second door clunked closed behind us. Grier heaved a sigh, plopping down on the bed and kicking off his boots. I moved from where I had removed my vest as he pulled off his top too, going to pick his shoes to place with the rest. His hand caught the edge of my collar as I bent down, giving me a gentle yank.

“Leave them,” He silenced me as I began to protest, hooking his arm about my waist and persuading me over to him, “Your sister isn’t the only one who was working so selflessly all day.” A hot blush rushed my face as he tugged my tunic loose from my trousers and started undoing the ties. “You need to get some rest.”

“That’s my line.” I mumbled dryly, and he chuckled.

“I can’t even fathom the last time you got a good night’s sleep, Nikostratus,” He told me, slowly coming up to his knees, then his feet, standing on the mattress so he could roll my tunic up, “The day outside was a good start, but now we need to get you to bed.”

I nervously finished what he had started, pulling my shirt off. I started to fold it, but the King snatched it from my hands and tossed it to the side. I opened my mouth to stammer a protest again, and found his mouth there to silence it. He wrapped his arms slowly around my shoulders, his bare torso draped against mine. The goblin was taller than me, standing on the mattress as he was, and I had to drop my head back to comfortably return the kiss. I fed him a huffy breath as he coaxed my mouth open with his tongue, slipping past my defenses. Heat was already beginning to build in me at his touch, and I dared snake my own hands over his thighs. Then I hooked them up, catching his weight in my palms to pull his legs around me. I could taste his grin, and slid an arm under him as I carefully climbed onto the bed. Carrying him along with me.

We dropped together to the mattress, and I crouched over him timidly as our kiss broke momentarily. Grier brought his hand around, tracing the back of his knuckles along my jaw. My eyes darted back down to his lips, and before I could meet his gaze again he gently stretched up to sink into my own lips. I kissed him again, pressing his head down into the pillows, slowly lowering my body to be tucked alongside his. Dangling my torso over him with my weight on my elbows. He freed his other hand from around my neck to skim his fingers lightly up my side. I shivered at his touch, and he nipped my bottom lip lightly in response.

I drew back obediently, meeting his eyes shyly. His hand at my jaw turned, bringing his thumb to trace along my lips.

“... Have I mentioned how happy you make me?” He purred softly, a warm smile filling his face.

I blushed again, my eyes darting away. But he held me still with his hand, coming up to kiss me lightly once more. Just a quick peck before he dropped back into the pillows.

“How about how handsome you are?” He continued. “Or how lucky I am that I get to have you as my husband?” A small scowl came to his lips. “Are you certain we cannot simply null the license and do it properly this time?”

I stifled a laugh, my face blazing hot as I shyly rolled away. Dropping to the bed beside him. He quickly shifted and scuttled back into my arms, tucking his body against mine once more and bringing his hands to my face. His scarlet eyes bounced back and forth between mine.

“... You never told me how you feel about everything…”

I swallowed nervously. “E-everything?” I questioned in a soft stutter, timidly running my hand over the edge of his waist and letting my gaze fall to the side.

He nodded. “You’re my husband now…. And I’m yours…” His thumb skimmed along my cheek bone. “... Is that ok?”

I shivered again, then smoothed my hand into the small of his back. Nodding shyly. “Y-yeah. I’m… adjusting. B-but…” My tongue was a little too large for my mouth, and I tried to shift it uncomfortably. “I-I… I’m… I’m happy…” I felt my cheeks burn, and blinked fervently as if to fan them. “... I think…” I finished lamely.

Grier chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead against mine. “You seem… better. About talking,” He rubbed his thumb against my cheek again, “And touching.”

“I’m… I’m trying…” I swallowed again. “B-because… I… I m-missed this… I missed… you… ” I closed my eyes to hide from his. “I was… I was afraid I wouldn’t…”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He assured me, leaning in until his breath splashed against my face. “Not without you.”

My lips twisted slightly at the corners. “So next time you’ll just be sure to take me with you when you visit death’s doorstep?” I asked dryly.

Another chuckle. “Mmm. No, not quite.” I felt him shift, then felt his lips against my cheek. “Not unless we are both very old and grey. And even then, I would rather not take you with me.”

“I would rather go first.” I mumbled, and felt his fingers tighten. I opened my eyes reflexively to see the worry in his. “... J-just one day… One hour maybe… So… So I don’t ever have to… t-to…” I blushed. “... to live without you.”

He brought our lips together for a feather light kiss, and I pressed my hand into the warm flesh of his lower back. Bringing my other hand up to bury in the wild hair at the base of his skull.

When he leaned back, we lay silently for a bit, staring at each other. Grier was the one to break the silence, a slight furrow forming between the ridges of his pronounced brow.

“Perhaps it was my imagination… But,” He tilted his head to the side, “I swear I… I was dreaming about you. But they felt real. Like memories?”

“I was… talking to you. While you slept…” I glanced away. “I thought maybe… maybe you would hear my voice and want to come back…”

“What did you tell me?” He asked curiously.

I blushed again. “A-ah… I… I told you about Morgana, when she was little…. A-and about Josep… and about my mother…” His hand gently guided me back to him, until I met his eyes once more.

“... Can you tell me again?” A small, sly smirk played across his lips. “I’ll be a better listener this time, I swear.”

I gave another timid nod. “O-ok…”

He smoothed his palm along my face. “But not tonight. You need to sleep.”

I frowned. “I���m fine-”

“You’re not fine.” He cut me off. “You spent the last two weeks watching me teeter on the edge of death. All the while ruling the Kingdom, and caring for Morgana, and anything else you could shoulder.” He ran his hand to the back of my head, gently squeezing my skull in his palm. “You married a dying man, your old guard tried to kill you, your father died... And those are just the things I know about...” I winced, and he brought his forehead back to mine. “Now it’s time to relax. Let someone else take the burden for a time while you rest.”

I started to shake my head. “Y-you’re still healing-”

“So are you.” He argued, squeezing me again as I winced once more. His fingers slowly loosened, then he traced them back and forth along the back of my head. “... Let me take care of you now, hm? I’m strong enough for that.”

I didn’t say anything, but met his eyes bashfully again. A sound warmth reached those dazzling scarlet reds of his. I sighed deeply, and he smirked with an almost irritating smugness in recognition of my defeat. Shifting to roll closer to me and wrap his arms about my shoulders. Tucking my head against his neck and resting his chin on the top of my head. One hand began to draw slow lines up and down between my shoulder blades, the other cupping the back of my head. I drew in a slow, deep breath, pulling the scent of him into my lungs. Feeling myself slowly relax as I lay there with him, my eyes getting heavier by the minute. I wove my own arms around him, encompassing him with my own body even as he buried my head in his. 

It didn’t take much longer for me to fall into a deep, deep sleep. Securely and safely wrapped up in Grier’s arms...

....

“What could possibly have been going through his mind?” I scowled slightly, resisting the urge to let my nose scrunch up as well. “What possible thought could he have had to think that was even remotely acceptable to say?”

Grier smirked. “Well, I’m certain he had his reasons dear.”

“Impossible! It’s absolutely illogical, and hare brained at best.” I argued, then glanced at him sidelong. “... Don’t call me ‘dear’.”

The goblin grinned up at me. “How about ‘sweetheart’?” My small scowl twitched at the corners and he laughed. The sound echoed around us, bouncing off the stone walls. “I am just attempting to find the perfect pet name for you, love.”

I shook my head. “You’re ‘just attempting’ to change the subject. Are you afraid I’ll have that nobleman hoisted by the ankles for his blasphemy?” I returned. “.... D-don’t call me ‘love’.”

He drew in an excited breath. “Ah, excellent. You’re starting to get flustered.” He bared his pointy teeth at me. “That’s a good sign.”

I scoffed at him, feeling a slight flush pinch at the balls of my cheeks. “I-I am not!”

The King sidled up to me, snaking his arms around mine to match my long stride with a skipping step. “Everything is going perfectly to plan then.”

I chanced a quick peek around to be sure that we were alone in the halls. It had been nearly a month since the goblin King had first woken from his fever induced slumber, and every day a little more of his strength found its way back to him. And every day, he grew a little more bold. A little more affectionate.

I still didn’t care for over the top displays around others, even the attendants and guards posted strategically through the castles. Most especially around my sister. But found I didn’t mind so much the little ones… a pinky finger hooked around mine. A gentle hand on my shoulder in passing. A thigh tucked against my own when we were sitting. Not that anyone else seemed to mind. I just couldn’t seem to completely shake the uneasiness I felt at the idea of other eyes seeing his affections for me.

But Grier was nothing if not adaptable. He relished tugging me into a dark corner to steal a kiss when no one was around. Or palming my ass when we left a room. Once or twice he had even gotten a few buttons on my shirt undone in a stairwell before my shyness and good sense had gotten the better of me. He seemed to enjoy my flushed face, and I couldn’t help the way my heart skipped at his little smug smiles of accomplishment after each daring theft. And when we were alone? … Suffice it to say I was pretty sure I had taken more cold baths in the last month than the rest of my life combined. I also was pretty well versed in the goblinese alphabet in any order I may wish to recite it. Grier relished hearing me attempt to distract myself from his attentions; I was pretty sure he considered it a personal challenge to get me hot and bothered when I was trying very hard not to. And as his strength returned, it was getting harder and harder to remind him he was still healing and to take it slow.

This evening though, as we walked arm in arm, I felt a frown settle on my lips as I checked to be certain we were alone. I glanced around, a furrow digging into my brow.

“... W-where are we going?” I checked over my shoulder, my frown deepening. “I-I don’t… I don’t think this is the way to your rooms…”

The goblin chuckled, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “You’re really quite hopeless aren’t you, my young Prince?” He mused. “We haven’t even been in the right wing for some time now. Didn’t you notice we went up a flight of stairs??”

I glanced around again, but despite the slight air of unfamiliarity, the hallway looked just like any other. I swallowed a sigh. I had gotten lost a fair few times in the last month. It was an informal royal decree from both Morgana and Grier that I was not allowed to wander the halls unaccompanied anymore. It seemed I had a knack for ending up in quite the opposite place of my intended destination.

“I-it did seem… a little longer of a walk than normal.” I mumbled sheepishly. I was lying, of course, as it hadn’t really. Then shot him a sidelong look. “... Ah… where are we going then?”

Grier’s grin turned sly, and he glanced at me out the corner of his eye. “It’s a surprise.”

“But… but i-it’s late. Y-you shouldn’t be-”

The King scoffed, waving one hand errantly. “I have been given a clean bill of health now, pet. I am free to surprise my husband to my heart’s content.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to sort out what he meant by that. “... D-don’t call me ‘pet’.” I hesitated, looking around again. “So w-where-”

“Still a surprise.” He interrupted me, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “But I promise we are almost there.”

I relented with a stifled huff, letting him lead me as he would. I couldn’t help looking around curiously, but simply had no head for the layout of the castle. It was far more complex than the one I had grown up in, and even there I had some trouble from time to time. It had taken me nearly my full 25 years to grow comfortable with it; I imagined it would take much longer than that for me to settle into familiar paths in this castle.

“Are you looking forward to your brother’s coronation?” Grier asked by way of distraction for my nerves.

I peeked at him, my frown returning slightly to the corners of my mouth. “... No.”

The goblin chuckled. “I would have thought you would be happy to have him on the throne. A much more level and reasonable head than your father, I am certain.”

I nodded my agreement, checking down one dark hallway we passed instinctively. “Of course. Crown Prince Valerianus will be an excellent ruler, a boon to his people.” My voice strayed into the old formal flatness from my youth. But then I stopped, staring down at our feet as we walked. “... I-I am not looking forward to the coronation itself.” I dropped off momentarily. “... Least of all because Morgana will be staying with m-my… my brother upon our return.” The word still tasted strange to me.

“Just for a few months.” He reminded me soothingly. “A season at each castle. I believe it is quite the fair arrangement.” He gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “It’ll go by faster than you think… What else worries you about the coronation?”

“... I don’t like parties.” I sighed. “I don’t like crowds of people… I-I prefer to be alone.”

“Except for me?” He offered.

I blushed, stammering for a moment. “Except f-for you...” I amended quietly.

His grin returned, and he tugged me to a halt. “Excellent. Because we are here.”

We stood beside a massive set of pine doors, inlaid with dark carved oak. A delicate but intricate pattern wove beautifully across each, and I considered that for a long moment. I looked around, then back at the doors, my head naturally tilting to the side as I tried to figure exactly where “here” was. Higher up, of course. Now that I was aware of it, we had climbed at least two sets of stairs to get here. But aside from the beautiful carved doors (which I was fairly certain I had never seen before) there was nothing overly distinct about our location, and nothing was familiar.

“Ah… sh-should I know where we are?” I asked timidly. Afraid he would be insulted that I did not, or disappointed his surprise was not completely evident to me.

The goblin was nearly dancing from foot to foot in his excitement. “Why don’t you open the doors and see?”

I hesitated, cocking one eyebrow at him. Then released his hand to push the left side door open. Grier pushed open the other, then stood with his hands behind his back while I assessed the room beyond.

It was a foyer. I knew that much. A grand fireplace to one side, a plush couch flanked by a pair of armchairs (matching, I was surprised to find) and a white marble table. To the other side, another pair of armchairs set on either side of a circular table set with a decadent chess set (those pieces didn’t quite seem to belong to each other though). I glanced over at Grier, and he nodded, encouraging me to go deeper with a large grin on his face. He jerked his head to the right, and I obediently went through the door there. A large reading room, with a tall window set into the length of one wall, a soft looking bench beside it. We were in the tower then, I surmised, craning my neck back to follow the floor to ceiling shelves with a thin ladder and narrow ledge at the middle to reach the second level of books. I could smell the old pages, and lingered for a moment. More plush furniture, cozy and soft looking. A few over the top decadent pillows, and a fair few knick-knacks, though they were neatly set about the room.

I turned back to Grier in the doorway, opening my mouth to speak. But he merely gestured for me to follow him back into the foyer, then across to the opposite door. This one was a closet, long and narrow, with a few cloth mannequins in between the shallow alcoves stuffed with vibrant colored clothes. At least on one side. On the other, my eyes widened slightly upon seeing dark, solid colors. Coats. Vests. White or cream shirts. Greys and blues mostly, with a few other colors smattered in between. Not stuffed, as the opposite side was, but neatly arranged and ordered by item types. Vests in one place. Coats in another. Tunics and shirts in the last. Boots and belts on hooks and shelves between. There were mirrors in the corner, each more decadent than the last and making the space seem even more full than it was.

Again I opened my mouth, the realization coming to me, but the goblin put his hands on my hips and started to push me towards the door in the back. I stammered a few useless sounds, but he persisted. Steering me through to the next room.

A bath. Large, with pearl and opal encrusted pools and delicate marble steps. I craned my neck back, finding a beautiful mosaic of colorful and sparkling tile in the ceiling. I marveled at it for a moment, breathing in the warm, steam filled air. Listening to the soothing sound of trickling water. A few raised basins lined the walls, with intricate stone carvings set into their backboards where water trickled into them before dripping off the sides and down to some unseen place in the ground beneath.

“There’s more.” He told me before I could speak. Catching my hand and tugging me through the door on the opposite side from where we had entered.

I followed behind, feeling in a daze. A bedroom this time, as evident by the bed large enough that I was certain a giant could comfortably lay sideways in it. It had tall, dark oak beams, and was filled with plush pillows along the headboard. Heavy curtains were neatly tied to the posters with golden rope, and there was another large fireplace off to one side. I recognized some of the bobbles and odds and ends from my time spent clearing his chambers. I dug my heels in, yanking Grier to a stop as I marveled at the room.

“A bed so big you could lose me in it.” He reminded me, his grin still ear to ear. “I hope this one with suffice. It was quite the commission.”

“... Th-this is… for us?” I mumbled timidly, and felt my face suddenly flush dark. 

He laughed. “Well, as long as it matches what you wanted.” He tugged my hand a final time. “But there’s one last surprise here for you.”

I obediently followed after him, letting him lead the way to the back corner. There was an archway, with a small little room to one side and a spiral stairwell to the other. The room was rounded on one side, with beautiful colored glass windows. The walls were a soft yellow, and the furniture was decidedly small. A small bed, a soft looking armchair with a sheepskin draped over it. And a cradle, alongside the window. My blush went even darker.

“Is it how you imagined?” He asked, stepping to the side to give me a better view. “I’m not sure what human nurseries look like, so I am afraid it might lean a little more to the goblin side of things.” His own scarlet eyes appraised the room. “We can of course change anything you’d like.”

“It… i-it looks…” I stepped shyly into the center, slowly pivoting on one foot. The setting sun broke through the glass, bathing the room into an almost magical glow. “... It looks… perfect…”

I jumped as his hands slowly came around my middle, and I felt him bury his face in the slope of my back. My breath fluttered from my chest, and I hesitantly rested my hands on his arms at my waist. A thousand thoughts rushed through my head at that moment, so quickly it was soon throbbing. Especially as his hands began to slowly rub against my abdomen.

I glanced at the doorway, then blinked a few times. “Wh-where do the stairs go?” I asked tentatively. Eager to distract myself from the heat of him at my back.

He gave me a gentle squeeze, then slid around to stand in front of me once more. “I thought you’d never ask.” The goblin took up my hands again. “Come.”

The spiral stairs were narrow, but not uncomfortably so, and I had no trouble following behind him. Our boots clicked on the stone, and I could barely keep up with his eager pace. The stairs let up to a large circular room at the top, devoid of furniture. The walls were mostly all glass, save for the stone archways supporting it, with thick curtains bunched along their length ready to be drawn. A door opened opposite us, leading to a balcony around the outside edge. But it was the center of the room that drew my attention.

It was filled with blankets, rugs, and large pillows of varying colors and patterns. Creating a soft nest of sorts, and encircled with white candles that were somehow already lit. Their flames flickered on the surface of the polished glass, making it look like we were surrounded by soft faerie fire. The ceiling was domed, and also completely glass, and as I stepped closer, I dropped my head back to look up at the swirl of pastels dancing across the sky as the sun began to set. The room was filled with the soft smell of flowers, and I saw them hanging from planters along the top edge of the stone pillars, draping down delicately. There was also a strategically placed set of stout, square glasses, and a tray of amber filled decanters. I could see the mountains for miles in almost every direction, and again slowly turned in place as I took it all in.

I felt eyes on me, and dropped my own from the heavens to find Grier’s waiting. He smiled at me, a little shyly. Obviously waiting for my final reaction. I looked around again, feeling as if my breath had been stolen from my lungs. I realized my mouth had dropped open a little, and quickly deigned to close it.

“Perhaps not what you had in mind when you said ‘a balcony’.” He mused. “But I thought it might still impress...” He gestured to the blankets and pillows at the center. “Fancy a drink to top off the evening? Perhaps to celebrate our new abode?”

“Th-that…” I fumbled for the right words, still a little dumbstruck. I swallowed hard. “That sounds… It would be.. a-ah... P-perfect.”

He motioned for me to sit, then walked around and carefully closed the curtains of the windows, leaving just the domed ceiling overhead. I stopped at the edge of the nest, hesitating for a moment before removing my boots. It didn’t seem appropriate to tread over the fabrics with them. I noticed a few petals flittered among the pillows, and pondered at exactly how they had managed to get so far from their source. The sun had all but completely sunk below the horizon now, and the inky night sky was beginning to seep into the pastels left in its wake. Slowly, I sat amid the pillows, craning my neck back to watch the darkness’ progression.

I heard him come up behind me, as well as the shuffle of him removing his own boots. The hairs on the base of my neck rose as he sank down to his knees at my back, then I felt the heat of his body once again as he slowly wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I shivered as his hot lips suddenly pressed to the side of my neck.

“What do you think?” He asked me softly. His breath warm against my skin.

I felt my face flush, and looked down at my hands in my lap. “O-of the rooms? Or… Or of all this?”

He gave a soft ‘hmm’ at that, then kissed my neck again. “Both.”

I peeked over at the stairs, trying to ignore the way he moved his hands back and forth over my shoulders. “... I-I like them… You ah… Y-you definitely were listening…”

He chuckled, and my eyes drooped as he pressed his lips against my skin once more. “My sweet Prince, I’m always listening to you.” One of his hands rolled to trace slowly down my front. “... And this?”

I swallowed nervously, then pretended to be too preoccupied with considering the room to notice his nimble fingers undoing the buttons on my vest. “I-it reminds me of… o-of that… umm…” I flushed a little darker, distracted. “... That first dinner…”

He nodded, slipping in a little closer. “Our first ‘date’, so to speak.” I could hear his smile in his next words. “You remember.”

I nodded. “O-of course I do… it was…i-it was...“ I dropped off, struggling to find the right word.

“Special?” He offered, and goosebumps shot across my skin at the word. I nodded again, resisting another shiver. He hummed his approval softly. “That was the intent… though I have an entirely different goal for how I’d like this night to end… But I want to ask you something first.”

My breath caught in my throat at that, and I turned slightly to look at him out the corner of my eye. His fingers had halted, and I found an unfamiliar seriousness waiting for me when I met his gaze. It made my mouth twitch down, and I turned to face him a little more. Curious what he could possibly want to ask that had him so uncharacteristically somber. The goblin took a steadying breath, easing his hands slowly back to cup on his lap.

“Nikostratus…” He paused, drawing in a breath, “... Will you marry me?”

I blinked at him. “... We’re already married.”

Grier scoffed angrily, brushing his hand through the air. “Yes yes, technicalities and legalities and all that. That’s not what I’m asking.”

“But that’s… that’s what you just asked-”

“No! I mean, yes, that is, but that’s not what I meant.” He gave an exasperated sigh. I felt my mouth twitch at the corners as his tentative expression turned to a scowl. The goblin shook his head, then took up both of my hands in his. “What I meant was… will you, Prince Nikostratus… will you be mine? And will you take me as yours?” I started to open my mouth, but he squeezed my hands. “Not because of a treaty, or in case I die without an heir. Not because I’m a King, and you’re a Prince. Or for our people, or even for the sake of peace. Not to make anyone else happy… but because I asked you… because I love you…” His scarlet eyes dropped down to our hands. “... And because you want to-”

“Yes.”

He jerked sharply. “... What?”

I nodded. “Yes. I will. Because you asked. Because I want to.”

“... Just like that?”

I smiled shyly at him, and I saw his eyes sparkle at the sight. “Just like that.”

He released one of my hands from his and brought it up, turning my face towards him properly. I met his eager lips with mine, shifting to twist at my waist. Bringing my own hand up to tentatively trace along the edge of his sharp jaw. We held that kiss for a long breath, relishing in it together. 

Then he moved, stretching and rolling himself around to come to my side. Easing my now unbuttoned vest off my shoulders and teasing his tongue between my lips. I shrugged the vest off, letting him toss it to the side without breaking our kiss. Feeling his hands return to begin untucking my tunic and undoing the strings to my trousers. My own hands reached for him, finding first his waist, then the hem of his pants. Gently tugging his own shirt loose, slipping my palms underneath to press against his warm, bare skin beneath. My heart leapt and thudded in my chest, and forgot how to breathe for a moment as he broke our kiss to roll my tunic up and over my head.

His hands came to my shoulders, pushing me firmly, until I fell onto my back amid the pillows. And he climbed on top, straddling me and planting his firm buttocks quite soundly on top of the swiftly growing bulge at my pelvis. I nearly groaned, and saw the same intense heat in his own eyes as I felt rippling through my body. I watched as he pulled off his own top, revealing his muscular torso and taut green skin to my hungry gaze. He tossed his shirt to the side as well and came back down, kissing first my mouth, then pushing my head to the side with his nose to begin slowly licking and sucking at the curve of my neck. My eyes rolled back and a shiver of delight rippled through me at the sensation.

“... A-are… Are you sure you’re… Y-you’re…” I stammered, unable to manage a complete sentence with his lips trailing across my skin.

I felt his hum against my throat, and gasped as he gently nipped at me. “Absolutely.”

Grier came back up to lean over me, his hair falling wildly about his shoulders as he bent down. Pressing our lips together again to reassure me of his words. His hands came to rest on either side of my head, and I let my own trace hesitantly up his bare arms. First to his shoulders, then slowly down his muscular back. I marveled again at the warmth and texture of his skin, and shivered as it seemed to remind me of my own exposed flesh. I heard his jaw click slightly as he opened it wide, sneaking his tongue back into my mouth. Winding it around mine. Another shiver passed through me, and I felt him shift. Rubbing against my cock through our pants and leaving my head spinning again. I fed him a shuddering breath as he ground his own member against me, sending a prickling heat racing through my body.

He unlocked our mouths, bringing one hand up to turn my face to the side before burying himself against the tender flesh beneath my ear. The sound of his tongue working against my skin coupled with his hot breath in my ear had my hands on his back looking for purchase to pull him closer. He trailed his sharp teeth across my skin, and I caught my hand in his hair as he worked his mouth slowly down my body. My fingers curled into those messy locks, and I started to prop myself up on one elbow as he moved lower and lower. Wondering where exactly he was going.

Scarlet eyes flicked up to me, and the heat there made my heart skip and sputter dangerously. “Lay back.” He breathed against my skin, his voice several octaves deeper with the husk of his arousal. 

I did as I was told, settling into the pillows once more with my heart in my throat. Trusting him as the more seasoned player for exploiting our arousals. He had certainly proved himself quite skilled in such carnal desires over the past month. I felt his mouth trail kisses down my abdomen, felt his hands massage at my sides. My own hand was still buried in his hair, and it twitched as his fingers curled around the hem of my pants. Pulling them down and freeing my cock from their quickly shrinking confines. I tried to not think too much about how I was now laid  bare before him, even as my heart thrummed. Luckily the blood was rushing through a fairly different head of mine at that moment, and my thoughts were congealed and fleeting at best. And as his hands slid up the back of my thighs to cup my buttocks, I lost even that.

I jerked as something firm and wet flicked at the head of my cock. Then gasped as the sensation returned. The pant of his hot breath against my pelvis brought the shocking clarity to my swirling brain that it was his tongue currently rolling over and licking at me with abandon. At first, I was so surprised my mouth dropped open. But as his long tongue wrapped and lapped at all my most sensitive parts, I decided I really didn’t care. More heat poured through my body, until I felt the tips of my fingers and toes go numb. I tightened my hand in his hair, and groaned loudly as his lips suddenly closed around my erection. Enveloping it in that hot, wet mouth of his. I thought I could feel the tantalizing brush of his sharp teeth along its length, and he began to rhythmically work his way up and down my shaft. I groaned again, trying not to writhe too much beneath his hot breath and lapping tongue. His hands massaged at my cheeks, slowly pushing them tightly together then spreading them apart.

I was glad for the soft pillows beneath me as I smashed my head back recklessly at the wave of pleasure that washed through me. My hand bobbed with his head, riding up and down the full length of me. I could feel his lips scrape the hair at my pelvis, and each deep thrust left me twitching more than the last. I curled one of my legs half around him, needing to touch him. To feel the heat of the rest of his body. His hands worked between my butt cheeks, and I felt the tip of one beginning to massage my hole.

Damnit. I thought to myself as a pulsing flash of light filled my vision. I started to try to pull away from him, feeling myself cresting on the edge of pleasure. But he stubbornly latched on, somehow managing to bury my cock deeper into his throat. I gasped, then moaned, my fingers in his hair spasming. I would have felt embarrassed by my sounds, had I the capacity for any thought other than that of the sensations of his mouth wrapped around me. His finger flicked inside me, and I smashed my head back again with that final straw.

I shuddered, crescendoing over the top and crashing back down on the other side in a hot, rippling mess. I felt my cock throb, pulsing my cum straight into Grier’s waiting mouth. I would have flushed in embarrassment, had my entire blood supply not been otherwise preoccupied at the moment. My body became in as much mush, my bones forgetting their solidity, my legs feeling numb. I blinked rapidly, trying to sort out exactly what had just happened, but my thoughts remained a hopeless swirling mess.

Before I could fully return to myself, Grier’s mouth found mine. My hand at the back of his head slipped to cup his neck, and with a weak grip I pulled him closer instinctively. He tasted salty, but not at all bad, and I welcomed his long tongue back into my mouth. Breathy with the lingering memory of its previous exploits. I felt myself slowly returning, and found his hands still massaging and playing with my ass. And was quite aware of his own cock rubbing against my pelvis eagerly.

I didn’t let myself pause to think, reaching down. Wrapping my hand around him. He fed me an equally breathy pant as I firmly gripped his manhood. I started to sit up, half on my side, adjusting to allow myself better purchase while his hands still worked at my backside. I used the moment to explore his cock in my palm, sliding up and down its length, with the pale tuft of wiry hair at its base and running partially up his abdomen. He hardened more at my touch, and I couldn’t help the little giddy glee in my stomach at the feeling.

I wasn’t sure if I was expecting it to be different from a human cock. A quick glance confirmed it was as green as the rest of him, though the head was darker. I thumbed the veins and ridges, running my palm appraisingly over it. Grier seemed eager to indulge my whims, and his pelvis jerked at my movement. I was surprised to find it was not smaller, as I would have expected it to be considering his proportions. Despite the goblin’s stature, I was pretty certain his appendage was very nearly the same size as mine. It certainly fit my palm similarly, and I enjoyed the familiarity of its shape. Feeling more and more confident as I rubbed at it firmly, confirming to myself this fact. Grier broke back from my mouth to lightly nip at my lip with his sharp teeth, seeming unable to fully handle the pleasure and desperate for an outlet.

He quivered as I continued to pump my palm up and down his shaft. I moved my other hand from the base of his skull to massage at his shoulders. He tucked his face against my neck, panting against me. Palming my ass and drifting his fingers ever closer to my anus. I encouraged him by picking up my pace, and felt him bite at my throat with a soft groan. He murmured something I didn’t understand, and suddenly his fingertips felt moist and tingly as he slid them in and around my hole.

“I want to know what it feels like to be inside you, Nikostratus.” He purred against my skin, and I quivered with anticipation. Gasping softly as he worked his fingers deeper. Carefully massaging and stretching me out.

I gripped him even more firmly now, rolling my hand down the length of his shaft, slowly pushing back his skin to fully expose his sensitive head to the night air. He groaned again, and I delighted in the feeling of the vibration of it at my throat. Whatever magic he had placed on his fingers was soothing and cool, and I felt myself relax at his touch.

His hands came around, pushing me down with his palms at my shoulders. I didn’t object, falling back willingly. Feeling my legs shaking with my growing anticipation. He coaxed me onto my stomach, and rolled his hands back and forth over my cheeks a few times. I felt his cock slide between them, and heard his breath hitch as he rubbed it there for a moment. Then aligned himself properly. I didn’t dare try to look over my shoulder at him, my face hot, my breath catching. I tried not to flinch as I felt his head graze the ring between my cheeks, but couldn’t help the shiver of excitement. His preparations allowed him to push easily inside me, though he did so slowly. Relishing each tantalizing inch. I curled my fingers into the blankets, my mouth dropping open as his head ground slowly against a particularly sensitive spot. He moved until he had buried himself to his pelvis, and bent slowly over me. His breath splashed against my spine, and I felt him carefully roll his hips.

I closed my eyes, letting loose something halfway between a moan and a gasp. It felt strange, but not unpleasant. He rolled again experimentally, then I felt him shudder against me. He bent further, curling over my ass and resting himself on his elbows. Until he could lap at the sweat now slowly dripping down my spine. I quivered at that, lost in a fresh wave of pleasure as he ground and rocked into me again. And again. His mouth came to my skin as he moved, and I could feel his breath panting against my sweat slicked shoulders. He alternated between kissing and licking, but as his pace picked up, I felt his teeth prick my skin in between groans pressed into my flesh.

I relished the sound of his hips smacking against my fleshy bottom. I enjoyed the feeling of his cock thrusting deep inside me. He moved gently at first, but gradually picked up speed and force as his excitement grew and my sounds spurred him on. Before long, he released a string of goblinese. I didn’t have to understand it at all to know it was probably not in any way ‘proper’ or ‘polished’ speech. It made my heartbeat even more erratic, and his thrusts seemed to match it. I felt him shudder again, and stifled a moan with my face buried in the blankets.

Suddenly, he jerked and spasmed, and a small part of me imagined I could feel him pulsing inside me as he reached his own climax. Logically I knew whatever magic he had used to relax my ring would likely prevent that, but I preferred to still imagine I could.

The goblin dropped onto my back with a hefty gasp, his smaller body quivering. My own body alternated between melting into a semi-solid state and tensing into a shiver. Each panting breath I drew, I could feel his weight rise and fall along with it. Our heat melded together, until I wasn’t entirely sure where his body ended and mine began... Eventually, he planted a final kiss between my shoulder blades, and slid off my back with a soft thump.

I found a bit of solidity to roll onto my side a few breaths later, and jumped slightly as Grier practically launched himself into my chest. I would have laughed at that, had I any semblance of where my lungs were at that moment. Instead, I sluggishly draped my arms around him, feeling his pleased sigh against my sternum as I did.

When several long minutes had passed without sound, I started to crane my neck down to check if the King was even still awake. I was certain he must be unconscious; he would never have been this quiet otherwise. Though over the last few weeks I had found there were nights when he talked even in his sleep! A pair of languid, hooded red eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I raised an eyebrow. I had fully expected when we got to this… ‘moment’, he would be full of teasing, boisterous words. Perhaps some musing on our varying physicality, or a comment on some quality of my body. Leaving me flustered, stammering, and proficiently bothered. His mouth twitched at the corners, but I was surprised to find him continuing his uncharacteristic silent streak.

As the heat and rush of excitement started to fade from my body, I found my anxiety waiting. Perhaps he had been disappointed? Or found my performance lacking in comparison to his other partners? Had he overexerted himself? A pang of guilt hit me hard in the chest. I shouldn’t have let it go so far. I had been too caught up in the desire, and turned selfish. He was still recovering; it had only been a month after all. I fretted over this, feeling my body stiffen around him.

Suddenly, Grier chuckled, and his lips pressed lightly to the hollow of my neck. “Over thinking things, are you?” He mumbled, as if his lips weren’t able to move properly to form the words.

I shifted nervously. “I-is it that obvious?”

Another soft laugh, and he snuggled deeper into me. But he didn’t answer right away, breathing another sigh into me. My heart skipped about in my chest, bouncing around the walls of my ribcage. His hand came up, sluggishly smoothing against my skin, rubbing the side of my neck and down my shoulder. I tried to take comfort in that, adjusting my suddenly oversized tongue in my mouth. Still, I lay stiff as a board beside him, and after a little while he brought his lips back to the same spot at the base of my neck.

“I’m not much of a talker.” He fumbled by way of explanation, his words slurred and slow.

That did make me laugh out loud. “Since when??”

He hummed a soft, amused note, and I felt his eyelashes brush against my skin as they fluttered. “After sex, I mean.”

Instantly my face flushed at the word. “A-ah,” I stammered, then shifted a little. “I-I… I didn’t know th-that.”

I could almost sense his languid grin, and he pressed his lips to my hot skin again. Then once more, though softer. His body relaxed, and he buried his face against me. His warm breath spinning down my sternum to be trapped between our entwined bodies. I swallowed once more, but adjusted, curling more completely around him. Cocooning him.

I rested my chin on the top of his head, and let a soft sigh escape as I forced my own body to relax. We lay quietly for a while. I knew he wasn’t asleep, as I felt his lashes run along my skin each time he blinked. I borrowed reassurance from the sensation, and my muscles loosened more. My eyes found the stars over our heads, and I watched them amid the reflection of the candlelight.

“I used to spend a lot of time staring up at the sky,” I breathed, “Wh-when I was younger… I found I could hide better in the dark, a-and no one ever thought to look for me outside for some reason…” I ran my hand along his spine, letting the words simply flow from me. Not really speaking to him, specifically. Just speaking... As I had when he was sick, and I had attempted to keep the habit up since. “I liked the night… Things were… quieter then… P-people didn’t bother me as much…” I considered the stars I could see from my position tucked against him. “We had a small collection of books on the constellations… I think I memorized most of them, I read them so much… I-I liked to… to read. Whenever I could manage to, I would go to the castle library…” My hand skimmed up to play with the long strands of his hair spilling over his back. “There was this… one spot… It was, ah… it was where the walkway of the second level stopped short… But there was just a little gap before the top of the next pillar and… a-and I found that I could s-step from the walkway to the pillar, then around to the next… then in the corner, one of the bookshelves was shorter to let in the light from the window…” I turned my head, burying my nose in his silky soft hair. Breathing in his spicy sweet scent. I knew now he liked to burn sage and myrrh in his rooms. He found the scents calming... “I would sit on top of that shelf for hours… No one could ever find me… I had a pillow set up there, and I would leave my favorite books…”

His soft chuckle vibrated against my chest. “I see Morgana wasn’t the only adventurous royal.” He murmured into my skin.

My lips twitched at the corners. “... I-I’m mostly of the literary sort… I would go there when I’d had enough of socializing and crowds. After all the galas, and balls and… ” I hesitated, my hand pausing with the long strands of his hair twirled around my fingers. Suddenly reminded of another such impending event. “I-I… I don’t want a big wedding…” I confessed suddenly, wincing.

Grier shifted, seeming to come to life at my words. I stiffened, worrying he would deign to leave my side if he was upset enough. I wasn’t sure what I would do if he did, and felt my heart ache with the fear. I felt his hand, previously forgotten in the knoll of my neck, slide over my muscles. Down my pectorals, then back up. His kiss was soft against me, and I shivered at it.

“Alright.” He agreed readily.

I blinked in surprise. “... Y-you… you don’t mind?” I felt him shake his head against me, and my fingers in his hair tightened. “I-I thought you wanted… I thought you would want a big… a-a very big ceremony, especially now that-”

“I’ve told you this before.” He interrupted me. His hand lingered at my throat, his thumb following the lump as I swallowed. “I don’t know why you never seem to believe me. I want you to be happy. That’s all I want.”

“... Even if it wasn’t with you?”

The goblin leaned in to nip at my soft flesh with his teeth at my tempered teasing. “Alright.” He amended. “I want you to be happy with me. But... if you couldn’t be-”

I shook my head, wrapping him up in my arms and pulling him close. “I-it doesn’t matter.” I told him in denial of that possibility as he slowly wound his hand to my back. Entangling himself around me. “I don’t… I-I don’t think I could… I don’t think I could be...h-happy… without you.” He nuzzled into the side of my neck, until I could feel his breath in my ear, and I took courage from that. “I-I don’t think I’ve… I’ve ever been…” I dropped off, then shook my head again. “N-not like this…”

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that…” He breathed, a happy relief in his voice. Then he paused, drawing small circles with his fingertips on my back. “I’ve been... obsessed with you… Ever since I first learned of you three years ago.” He confessed quietly, and I tried not to stiffen with his words. “I thought it was just some… strange fancy. One that would go away with time.” He smoothed his palm over my shoulders. “After I saw you… I just… always felt like something was missing. Though I couldn’t tell what it was… I certainly never put it together with you specifically.” He sighed. “Yet it was constantly driving me. Though I didn’t know it. It drove me to halt hostilities. Then to seek out the peace… and then… that drove you to me… and…”

He leaned back, pulling himself free from my embrace. I turned, looking down at him as his hands came about to cup my face. His long thumbs ran along my cheeks under my eyes, as his own seemed to study every pore. Our breath intermingled in what was left of the air between us, and electricity snapped in its wake. Slowly he stretched up, kissing me softly, gently. As if he were in a pleasant dream, and longed to do everything in his power to linger in it.

“And then I saw you again…” He murmured once he had finally leaned back. “I saw you in my castle, standing before me. Close enough to touch… and everything just… clicked. Everything became so obvious.”

“W-was it really so easy for you?”

“No.” He admitted. “I wasn’t lying back then, when I said you surprised me. I really never thought I would like you. I had never met a human before that I had found I could do much more than tolerate.” His head cocked to the side. “But I thought it would be... interesting, at least. And…” He grinned. “You are very handsome.”

My cheeks grew hot and I tried to flick my gaze to the side. He tightened his grip, tricking me into looking back at him in surprise. Just in time for him to kiss me again. I hummed a sigh against his mouth, my eyes fluttering.

“You are very handsome,” He declared, his voice soft, “And charming, and selfless, and sweet.” He kissed me again. “And I will keep telling you this until you believe me.” A final kiss, soft and tender upon my lips. “Now… how about that drink, hmm?”

The corners of my mouth twitched again as he untucked himself from against me and sat up. The goblin reached over, pulling the tray closer. There was a covered plate beside it I hadn’t noticed before, and felt a slight frown slip across my features as I considered it. Grier poured out a small dollop of brandy into each glass as I slowly sat up too. Pulling the loose end of a blanket modestly across my lap.

“What’s under there?” I asked, curious despite myself.

His grin grew, and he passed me a glass before using his now free hand to toss the silver cover off to the side with an unceremonious clatter. I jumped slightly at the sound, but didn’t have time to linger on it as the King proffered the now revealed plate of small misshapen yellow squares practically right under my nose. I raised an eyebrow at him, but carefully plucked one, hesitantly bringing it up for a precursory sniff. My eyes widened with delight as I recognized it, and I snapped up the entire treat in one quick bite. Letting the sweet but tart flavor roll over my tongue with a soft sigh.

Grier laughed, equally delighted, and picked up another after returning the plate to the tray. I met his eyes, suddenly a little embarrassed by my eagerness, my chewing slowing. But he held the fresh lemon cookie out to me, obviously pleased with the same behavior that embarrassed me. My lips twitched and I leaned in to take it directly from between his fingers with my mouth in a surprisingly bold whim. Which only made the delighted smile of his grow even more. Before I could pull completely away, he caught the back of my neck with one hand and stole a lemony kiss. I couldn’t help my own little chuckle deep in my throat and found myself a little surprised by it.

I washed the mouthful down with a sip of the brandy, watching him take one for himself and having an experimental nibble of it. “...You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

He gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, shooting me a coy look out the corner of his eye. “I do aim to please…. Is it everything you wanted for this night?” He scooched closer as I finished the last of the small serving of brandy in my glass. Climbing into my lap once I placed it to the side. “What else does your heart desire? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

I adjusted myself nervously, my heart skittering about in my chest as his warm skin brushed against mine. “I-I… What about you?” I mumbled shyly. “Surely you must-”

“I have everything I want,” He interrupted, reaching up and catching my face between his palms, “I have the man I love. My whole world. Right here.” He pulled me down gently to kiss me for several breaths. “So tell me, my sweet Prince, what do you want?”

I hesitated, my blush rising to my cheeks. He brushed it aside with his palms, and I peeked at him through my dark lashes. “I-I… I want… I just... want you…” I told him softly. “Just you…” I glanced to the side, taking a small breath, trying to let the words trapped in my chest flow out unchecked. “I-I want… I want to… to wake up next to you every morning, and I want to fall asleep with you every night...” I paused, peeking at him again, but when he didn’t interrupt, I added “...And I am fully aware that we will never wake up at the same time…” He laughed softly at that. Encouraged, I continued on, letting everything pour out in a rush. “I-I want… I want to see what ridiculous outfit you wear everyday, and I want to see you panic when your hair starts to turn white.” I reached up, thumbing his cheek. “I want to see what happens to green skin if you stay out in the sun too long, and I want to rule alongside you a-and leave this Kingdom to our children... I want kids with you… I want lots of kids with you... and I want to see you playing with all of them in the gardens. I want… I-I want to…” I swallowed hard, stammering and fumbling for the words momentarily. “I… I want to love you for the rest of our lives, Grier... and I want those lives to be very, very long…”

His hands slowly slid until he had fully wrapped his arms around me, surrounding me with his spicy sweet scent. Then he kissed me so deeply I thought perhaps the stars in the heavens had always been just a faded copy of the universe that flashed behind my eyes at that moment. The warmth, that lovely, wonderful warmth, started in my chest, and pulsed through me with each beat of my heart. Reaching out to every inch and molecule of my being. Until I couldn’t even remember what it was like to live and breathe without it. I didn’t even feel him lean back, but then suddenly his voice, bathed in tenderness, filled my ears. Blowing air across the smoldering coals burning hot in my chest until my whole body tingled with emotion.

“I see we are a perfect match then, my young Prince.”

...

The End...

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game - CH131

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 131: The Dream of the Holy Nun (XXI)

Save countdown: 30 seconds, 29 seconds, 28 seconds…

As time passed, Qi Leren stared at the familiar yet strange man on the throne. His mind was blank. He couldn't think, and he didn't dare to think. The unspeakable fear that had been hidden deep in his heart for a long time was confirmed at this nightmarish moment - he had opened the door of the defenseless shelter and invited the polite devil standing outside to come in.

If everything from when they had first met wasn’t a coincidence, how many secrets had he inadvertently revealed?

Qi Leren was so desperate that he couldn't even think about it.

Twenty seconds, nineteen seconds, eighteen seconds…

"Good evening, Leren, why don't ask my name?" Su He asked softly from the throne.

Qi Leren closed his eyes painfully. If Su He was a demon, he was definitely not an ordinary one. He had deliberately used him to come to this where the Holy Dun killed the old Devil more than 20 years ago, and what he sought was by no means an ordinary thing.

Qi Leren asked hoarsely: "Power or Slaughter?"

Su He smiled lightly and said meaningfully: "I’m the one you missed."

"Impossible, the Lord of Fraud is a woman..." Qi Leren retorted with shock only to realize instantly.

In the Witchcraft Sacrifice task, both he and Ning Zhou had been forced to appear as another gender. If the Devil of Fraud had also appeared in the task he would probably have been like them, as it would be fun for the Devil of Fraud to hide his gender... Qi Leren suddenly remembered the voice he’d heard vaguely in the underground palace: "Because it’s very interesting. It's so interesting to watch you cheat and kill each other because of despair, fear, and jealousy."

That gentle and beautiful voice made him feel cold all over. He had never heard this voice, but the tone had felt familiar. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t recognized the source of this female voice, but the tone and the habit of speaking were clearly….

"Now, do you understand?" Su He asked with a smile.

He understood. Everything was clear. Ever since Su He had first appeared in the Novice Village, he had noticed his abnormality. The so-called Novice Village bug was not only the killer, but also a laptop loaded with the Nightmare Game. But at that time, Su He had no evidence. He’d just watched him and waited patiently for him to reveal his flaws.

The Witchcraft Sacrifice was a temptation which had made him carry out a task under the Lord of Fraud’s nose, but still he’d found nothing. No, maybe he’d left some marks on him. And then he was parasitized by the seed of slaughter with an abnormal growth rate, which may have been coincidence or may have been inevitable.

Castle Cry was a trap that had been set in advance. Isabel interfered with the copy’s history according to his command, and the ignorant Qi Leren had showed his biggest flaw - the laptop had appeared, then Su He followed, and then the computer disappeared mysteriously, perhaps in the hands of Su He, perhaps by a certain force intending to hide the secret of the computer from Su He. However, in the Castle Cry, Su He had become 100% sure that it was Qi Leren.

He had been gentle and considerate, patiently dormant, and had presented himself properly. Finally, he’d received the invitation as he wished and entered the Holy City, which had always been sealed to him. Maybe at first he was just a little suspicious and curious, but in the end he got a surprise.

Really, it was a perfect scam.

"It's so funny, the incredible expression worn by a blind, ignorant human at the moment when they discover the truth..." the voice belonging to Su He echoed in the hall. Under his gentle eyes, everything was just his playthings. Qi Leren shuddered.

Qi Leren suddenly didn't want to ask any more questions. He didn't want to know his calculations, his purposes, and what kind of person the real Su He was.

His time was running out.

Three seconds, two seconds, one second... The countdown for the skill’s cooling was 0:59:59.

"Time is up." The corners of Su He’s mouth hooked upwards as he looked at him happily. "From what I know about you, you’ll save before pushing open this suspicious door. You didn't even think about resisting it. It's not like you."

Qi Leren’s breath hitched. He knew that his strength was very different from Su He’s. As long as Su He used his field, he would be crushed to death in front of him like a worm, but what if... What if Su He was careless?

It was a gamble, but what other choice did he have than to accept his fate?

Most importantly... If he died…

"Where is Ning Zhou?" Qi Leren asked.

"Isabel’s with him. Although she’s only been the Witch of Jealousy for a short time, I gave her some extra preferential treatment. A small cup of Devil's blood makes such a powerful witch that surely even her friends would look at her with new eyes," Su He said.

Isabel? She was here too? How did she get in? It must be that Su He had hidden demons in his field and brought them into the Holy City.

Qi Leren's heart was getting heavier. What should he do? Exactly what was there to do? Keep stalling? However, even if he prolonged it, the situation wouldn’t get better. Even if Ning Zhou defeated Isabel, he couldn't be an even opponent for the Devil of Fraud.

No matter how he thought, there was a dead end ahead.

No, think again, calm down... He had to at least figure out the purpose of Su He’s chess game so that he could leave some glimmer of chance for Ning Zhou.

Qi Leren tried to stay calm, looking at the huge statue of Maria holding the sword she had stabbed into the black dragon. The sword on the statue of Maria was not made of stone, but instead was a huge metal sword reflecting a sharp arc of light.

This should be the real sword Maria had used to kill the Devil, that was, it was this field’s memento of destruction.

Just pull it out and cut open the field, and the task could be completed.

"That's Ms. Maria's sword. It has a holy and dazzling power. Unfortunately, Devils can't touch it... I should thank her for her dedication and sacrifice in changing the rule over the demon world." Su He stood up and held out his hand toward the black dragon.

The space before his hand twisted and the black dragon's chest suddenly lit with a deep red light, and a burning flame burst out of its chest and flowed back into Su He’s hand.

The flame went out, leaving a palm-sized ruby with bright red flowing inside it, as if it were blood.

Apart from the seed of slaughter, Qi Leren had never been able to feel demon energy, but he couldn't help shivering when he saw that ruby.

That was a kind of evil and overbearing power, which is disturbing and fearful.

"What is that?" Qi Leren whispered.

Su He held the ruby in his hand and looked at it with great interest: "It has many names. You can call it a higher form of devil crystallization or a collection of the evil in this world, but I prefer a name that’s easier to understand. In hell, it represents one third of the kingship."

Qi Leren swallowed his saliva. One third? Where were the two remaining thirds?

"There are a lot of things I know very well, so it doesn’t matter that there’s a lot I don’t know. I never ask questions, I simply enjoy the fun of solving puzzles. However, I originally thought you knew a lot. Although I don't know where you got the clue to enter the Holy City, it turns out that you only know a little about it after repeated trials. You’re really very careful," Su He said lightly.

The unsettling feeling struck again. Although he already knew what dangerous struggle he might be involved in, the feeling of being a pawn became more and more vivid at this moment.

He can't wait for his death any longer, but he would die either way. He still had the Easter Egg. As long as his body stayed intact, it could be resurrected in seven days, but... What could he do about Ning Zhou? Even if he could defeat Isabel, then take down Maria's sword, cut her field, and finish the task, so long as Su He has the heart to kill him, he couldn't survive.

Unless he could really kill Su He while he was being careless, but was this possible?

The gap in the strength of the field made Qi Leren so desperate that he even lost his desperate courage.

"Qi Leren," Su He called his name.

Qi Leren raised his head and looked at Su He stepping down the throne’s steps. He looked at him commandingly, and his scarlet eyes seemed to be filled with thoughtful interest.

"I’m curious, will a person who has experienced countless deaths still be afraid of death?" Su He asked.

"...They will be. No matter how many times, people are extremely afraid when they go to their death. This is engraved in their genes, so as long as there’s a choice, people always want to live," Qi Leren tried to answer calmly.

"Human beings’ desire to survive is really interesting, but it’s this kind of power that will give birth to incredible miracles." The Devil King standing on the high platform smiled at him, cut his wrist, and the bright red blood flowed into a goblet - the same goblet he had used when they had a picnic in the Garden of the Holy Tomb.

It’s just that what was in the cup now was no longer sweet wine, but sinful temptation from hell.

"For demons, 'to do aught good never will be our task, but ever to do ill our sole delight'. If someone has a firm soul, seduce him, torture him, and destroy him until his pure white soul is so dirty it falls into hell... But if you can’t, then fear it and destroy it." The Devil who enjoyed toying with people raised the goblet toward him and gently asked, "Now you have a choice: Would you like to be born of betrayal or die of martyrdom?"

-----

The author has something to say:

PS: “To do aught good never will be our task, But ever to do ill our sole delight.” -Paradise Lost.

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[waiting4inspiration]

Speak my Language II (Ivar x Reader)

Summary: You and Ivar find out why you seem so drawn to the Norse culture when you show him something you’ve had since you were a child. 

Warnings: strong language, religious conflicts, fluff, mentions of parents death, nothing else I can think of XD

Word Count: 2,260

Speak my Language Part 1 II Vikings Masterlist

“You smile,” Athelred mentions, causing your head to snap up as your thoughts about the Heathen King, Ivar are broken and you remember where you are. 

You sit with Alfred and his brothers, parchments from different lands in front of you that you are meant to be translating for your king. But you can’t stop thinking about your encounter with Ivar. Athelred and Alfred both stare at you, one with a smirk on his face and the other with a curious look. One is used to you smiling when you’re learning something new from a different culture, and the other isn’t sure why you bother with such things. 

Smirking to yourself when you think of why you’re smiling, you remember something Ivar said. Something different from what men have said to you in England. Ivar said that he wanted you. He said that nothing would stop him from wanting you. 

And you decide to see if the difference between his culture and the Saxon culture is still there. “Tell me, Athelred, had the circumstances been different between us and your...other relationships, would you marry me?” 

Your question makes Alfred chuckle and Athelred to frown at you in confusion. He looks at his younger brother who only shrugs his shoulders and nods to you. “Answer the question, brother,” he encourages, curious to see where you’re going with this.

Athelred sighs and looks back at you and you fold your hands on the desk in front of you, on top of the parchments. “No, I would not,” he replies. And yet, you don’t have a hurt expression on your face. 

“And why is that?” you question, bring your hands up under your chin and smiling at him when he gives a sigh. 

“Because you are too learned. A woman should have as much knowledge as you do,” he mentions, ignoring Alfred’s glaring that tries to tell him to be careful of his words so you don’t take offense. “You are too interested in other cultures, other religions. It is not natural for a Christian woman to be like that.”

And instead of being offended at that, you chuckle and lean back in your seat. “Some would argue that fact. Some people would find my knowledge attractive, in a way,” you mention with a proud smile on your face.

Athelred chuckles and looks at Alfred. “People such as?”

“Ivar the Boneless.” That makes Athelred laugh and you shoot a cold glare at him. “He’s fascinated by the fact that I am interested in his people and his culture. And in the fact that I speak more than one language. 

“He is a pagan. The only thing he’s probably interested in is how to get you into his bed.”

“Athelred, please,” Alfred stops him when he notices the way your smile drops and you harshly push yourself to your feet. 

You glare coldly at the prince, unafraid of what he could do to you, the daughter of a farmer who got lucky thanks to King Ecbert. You know Alfred wouldn’t let anything bad happen to his translator. And Athelred wouldn’t dare pick a fight with you. Especially when you learned how to defend yourself with a knife from one of the cultures you once studied. 

Turning away from looking at him, you storm to the door and slam it behind you as you walk out the room. 

When you said that you accepted his offer for him to teach you more about his culture, Ivar thought he’d see you again tonight. But you didn’t come to his chambers, he didn’t find you walking around the halls. And he couldn’t stop thinking about that smile you have when you watch someone living out their life, different from what you’re used to. Ivar actually wonders if there is anything that you are used to, what with you learning about different cultures all the time. 

With everything quiet, the Great Hall dark and asleep, he crawls around the hallways, trying to get his mind off you so he can have his own chance at sleep. 

But he comes across a sight he never expected to see. 

You’re sitting on the ground in front of that tapestry of Jörmungandr, staring up at it with your legs crossed under you. He didn’t realize he had come here until he saw you. And he suddenly wishes he had put on his leg braces and used his crutch instead of dragging himself around on the ground. 

And when you turn your head toward him, he wishes he could disappear back into the darkness. But you don’t realize it’s him, and you turn your head back to the tapestry. Then it hits you and you gasp as your head snaps back to him. “King Ivar, I didn’t realize that it was you,” you whisper, starting to push yourself off the ground. 

“Stay,” he grunts, making you freeze before sitting back down on the ground. 

You watch him closely and he crawls closer to you and then sits beside you to look up at the tapestry. You slowly move your gaze back to the tapestry and breathe out a sigh when your eyes begin to follow the lines again. “Ever since I heard the stories of Jörmungandr, I saw him every time I sailed on a boat,” you begin to say, breaking the silence between you and Ivar, making him slowly turn his head towards you. “For some reason, stories of your Gods stuck with me more than those of other religions. More than the stories of Jesus Christ and God the Father,” you mention, looking down at your hands. 

You bite your lower lip, making Ivar take in a deep breath as you lift your head back up to the tapestry. Gods, he doesn’t think he’s seen anyone so magnificent as you before. “How did you hear stories of my Gods?” he asks after a moment of staring at you, his voice pulls your gaze away from the figure on the tapestry and you look at him. 

“King Ecbert told me a watered-down version of some stories,” you explain, smiling slightly at the memory. “A Northern he was close with told him those stories, and he, in turn, told them to me when I came to the castle. And since then, I grew up destined to be Alfred’s translator. Basically,” you explain with a chuckle as you turn your head back to the tapestry. 

Your words make his frown and he shifts slightly closer to you. “You grew up in the castle? I thought you said you’re the daughter of a farmer,” he questions, tilting his head to the side as you bite your lip and drop your head. 

Taking a deep breath, you stare down at your hands for a moment knowing that Ivar’s waiting for you to explain yourself. “My father was a farmer, I remember that. But, that’s all I remember of him,” you say, slowly turning your gaze back to Ivar. “When I was a child, I was found by one of Ecbert’s men wandering around the woods with a head injury and I was taken to him. He was the one that insisted I be taught how to read and write, even if the church was against it,” you explain with a small smile on your face. “I couldn’t speak English that well, but when I was taught Frankish, Ecbert was surprised at how quickly I picked it up, so he had me learn more language as I grew and he paired me with the future King and his grandson, Alfred.”

Ivar’s mouth drops slightly as a thought comes to mind. But he’s not sure how he can prove if his thought is true. You said you don’t remember much of your family, of your father. How could you remember if your father was, in fact, a Norse man that went to live in the settlements Ragnar built in Wessex?

Your story explains how a farmer’s daughter came to have so much knowledge and be a King’s translator. But it still leaves questions about your previous life before Ecbert’s men found you. And it’s that story Ivar’s more interested in as opposed to the other knowledge you have. 

“Do you have something from before you were found?” he asks, trying not to seem suspicious about what he wants to find out. 

You stare at him for a second before glancing down at your hands and biting your lip, trying to remember. “Well…” You shake your head and wave your hands to push the thought aside. “No. I didn’t-”

“Tell me,” he pushes, making you look back at him with an almost sad look in your eyes. 

You stay silent for a moment before looking back at the tapestry again. “What I had on me the day I was found was burned and I was told that it was to leave everything I had before in the past, and move forward towards the light of God,” you state, shaking your head to yourself and you sigh and look at Ivar again. “But I remember keeping something hidden, keeping it from being destroyed. And I kept it a secret ever since.”

“What is it?” he asks, moving closer to you so his face comes close to yours. But not as close as it had been earlier that day. 

Shaking your head, your head flickers over his shoulder for a second before looking back at him. “It’s in my chambers.”

Ivar gives you a smile and nods his head. “Can you show me?” he question, making you smile in return and stand to your feet. He turns so he’s on his hands and he follows you towards your chambers.

If Athelred saw you leading Ivar to your chambers now, he’d tell you about how this is all wrong and go on about the Christian morals. But you imagine that Ivar might tell him to shut his mouth, something you wouldn’t stop him from doing, truthfully. 

You allow Ivar to sit on a chair as you rummage through your chests and trunks, looking for the item you know is hidden right at the bottom. It’s just the thing of finding the right trunk. 

When you see the leather strap, you smile and pull the pendant out, sigh in relief and stare at the three triangles linked together. Turning to Ivar, you rest the pendant in your hand and start to walk towards him. “Sometimes, when I feel like I’m lost, I look at this pendant,” you mention, kneeling beside him but still staring at the pendant. “It’s almost as if it shows me the next step I must take.”

With that, you hand the pendant to Ivar. 

A breath catches in his throat to see the symbol. And it answers the question on his mind. 

You see the way he stares at the symbol, how his thumb brushes over it and how a smile makes the corner of his lips pull up. “You know what this symbol is,” you state more than ask when you realize the look of familiarity on his face. 

He nods his head and looks down at you. “It’s a Norse symbol?” you question, your eyebrows knitting together as you wait for him to respond. 

“It is Odin’s knot,” he whispers, looking back at the pendant in his hands as his thumb follows the triangles linked together. “It is a symbol of the transition between life and death and is thought to symbolize the power of the god to bind and unbind,” he explains, knowing that you’d appreciate that you’re learning something new. But maybe you’re learning too much.

You take it from his again and sink down to sit on your heels. “Odin’s knot,” you whisper to yourself. Staring down at the pendant, you shake your head to yourself. “I was a Northerner. My father…” You trail off, breathless as you close your hand around the pendant.

And instead of doing what Ivar thought you would do and shed some tears, you laugh and shake your head as you look up at him with a bright smile on your face. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

Your laugh makes him smile and lift a curious eyebrow. “It does?” he asks, chuckling at your gleeful smile as you nod your head. “Like what?”

“Like how I don’t seem to agree with a lot of the Christian morals and how I haven’t since I was a child,” you start, looking away from the pendant and back up to him. “How I feel like I’m home the moment I walked through the city the first time. How everything feels familiar here in Kattegat. How I seem to find the Gods in everything,” you add, your eyes locking with his and he reaches for the pendant in your hands again. 

“Like Jörmungandr in the sea,” he states with a chuckle, making you nod and laugh. 

He slips the pendant over your head and makes it fall to your chest where his fingers end up tracing, making a breath catch in your throat. “Or Thor in every thunderstorm, beating his hammer,” you whisper, biting your lip as his hand rests at the base of your throat. “Or Freya in every kiss.”

Ivar smirks and raises his hand to cup your cheek. “Every kiss?” he questions, keeping your gaze on him as he slowly leans forward. 

You nod your head. “Like I said, I didn’t agree with a lot of the Christian morals,” you whisper, making him chuckle before he leads your lips to his. 

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[ofmythsandfables-a]

Vlad

GENERAL INFO

FULL NAME: Vladislaus Draculea

SPECIES: Human / Vampire

AGE: Verse Dependent

PLACE OF BIRTH: Romania

GENDER AND ORIENTATION: Male / Bisexual

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES

HEIGHT: 6′2

HAIR COLOUR: Brown/Black

EYE COLOUR: Green

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Scar in the middle of his chest from a stake

BACKGROUND INFO

LANGUAGES: Too many to count lol he’s old so he had time to study many languages

OCCUPATION: Verse Dependent

VERSES

SYNOPSIS

{ My variation of Vlad comes from both historical and film (Dracula Untold) influences. Some historical sites vary a bit with information but generally they are all the same in context. }

Vladislaus Draculea was one of three sons of Vlad Dracul II, who ruled the principality Wallachia from 1436-1447. Vlad Dracul II sold his 11 year old son Vlad to the Ottoman Sultan to show his loyalty. As a result, Vlad was forced to fight among other boys his age and older in the armies, trained only to kill and feel no remorse. Though that was the only downside to staying with the Sultan. He was taught various subjects and cared for as if one of their own.

 Brainwashed by the Ottomans, Vlad unfortunately became nothing but a cold blooded killer and the most skilled and valued soldier in the Sultan’s armies. Once he was 18 though, he broke away from the Ottomans and returned to his home in Wallachia where he fought for the throne and won, becoming the new Voivode, or Prince, of Wallachia.Vlad ruled in peace for fourteen straight years, ruling with an iron fist and yet was fair. Then Mehmed II, the new Sultan and former comrade of Vlad’s when he was in the Ottomans armies, proposed a deal with Vlad that he give him 1,000 of Wallachia’s boys including his own son, or there would be war. Vlad desperately tried to negotiate, even offering himself in the place of the boys, but Mehmed wouldn’t budge. And so, war was declared.

Knowing he couldn’t win the war on his own and with little men in his army, Vlad sought out a monster of darkness, Caligula, in a cave high in the mountains. For a price, Vlad was turned into the very monster he sought out. The war came to a head on the third day as Vlad swooped in with an army of freshly turned vampires. Thousands of men perished on the fields and Vlad was able to defeat Mehmed and his men. But the price he paid for the victory was great; he lost his loving wife Mirena due to falling off a tower and sacrificing her own blood to Vlad so he could remain a vampire and save their son from the clutches of the evil Sultan. And Ingeras, Vlad’s ten year old boy who witnessed too much for his age, was taken by a fellow friar from Vlad’s old monastery to be kept safe, and would eventually rule Wallachia in his father’s place.

Once Mehmed and his men were defeated, Vlad burned his own army of vampires in the sun’s light, including himself, so that future generations would be kept safe from their harm. But a follower of Vlad’s found him and revived him by giving him his blood, and thought he’d walk eternity with his newfound master. Though, when Vlad was alive once again, his thirst for blood took over and he drained the man completely. It was then that Vlad fled, and for days sought out refuge in the Carpathian Mountains. There, tucked away from the world, was an old abandoned castle where he then made his permanent residence and hid in the shadows for years to come…

VLAD MUSAT (Main/Modern Verse, Aged 32 ; FC: Luke Evans)

Vlad is currently just under 600 years old, and a CEO of his own restoration company, ReVamp Restorations, INC. The company restores old landmarks, buildings and homes, and is expanded globally. He lives in London, England, and has a house in his homeland of Romania which he visits on holiday. Vlad changed his last name to his mother’s maiden name so he would not be recognized. He isn’t usually around others outside of his job, and his quiet time consists of more work due to his need to constantly be occupied.

FROM PRINCE TO BEAST (After the war with Mehmed II)

No longer the voivode for Wallachia, Vlad has hidden away high in the Carpathian Mountains, dwelling in an abandoned and long forgotten castle. Weary travelers or people who have gotten lost on their journeys sought shelter in the castle and Vlad happily took them in, but for a price: that they would serve him forever. They’ve agreed, and happily serve him regardless of knowing what he is and who he once was. His servants are his only real company and Vlad has looked to them as an almost family to him.

HE WHO STILL REIGNS (After the war with Mehmed II, Alternate Ending)

Vlad has returned after fighting and defeating Mehmed, taking his place on the throne once more. Only this time, he is a vampire. He now rules over the lands Mehmed once did, except he is not known as Sultan, he remains Prince. His dwellings are still within Wallachia which is newly rebuilt, his army becomes vast and stronger than any other army around, and though weary of others, he still rules as he once did. His heart is heavy with the loss of his wife, and the duty of raising their son on his own. But he does everything and anything for Ingeras so he doesn’t have to suffer anymore than he already has.

THE COUNT (1880 - early 1900s ; very loosely based on Bram Stoker’s version)

London’s new resident is a centuries old vampire, having just bought into real estate. Vlad Dracula leads a quiet life, not bothering anyone as he tries to make his life somewhat normal. He prays upon people, though not savagely, and drinks only enough for him to be satisfied. Afterwards, he heals them with his own blood and wipes away their memory of anything that had transpired between them.

PRINCE OF WALLACHIA (Pre war with Mehmed II)

Vlad is Voivode to Wallachia, and is reigning peacefully. His rulings are fair and his people adore him. He is not married, and not with any children. Vlad’s adviser pushes him to marry someone already to give him an heir, but it is not something Vlad is in a rush for even though he wishes to have a family of his own someday. Vlad is always holding Council with his noblemen or working on kingly duties, but one can find him constantly with his nose in a book, learning something new and enticing.

*Alternate Version*

Vlad is Prince, and ruling with Mirena. This takes place a year before the war with Mehmed.

CHIEF INSPECTOR IONESCU (1850s ; Aged 30)

Of Romanian descent, Vlad’s family had moved to England in the early 1800s for a better life. His father became wealthy in the railroad business, and Vlad went to Oxford where he graduated top of his class in both criminal justice and anatomy. He soon began to work for London’s Scotland Yard. Vlad was quick to move up the ranks due to his vast knowledge in the field, and became London’s youngest Chief Inspector at the age of 30. His work always consumes him, never allowing him to keep a steady relationship and miss out on important events his family hosted almost monthly. And though it bothered him, his job to keep the streets of London safe were more important.

HUMAN (Modern day, Aged 33)

Vlad Dragan was raised in Romania along with his three brothers on a vast farm. Having ambitions far bigger than the life he was meant to have, Vlad made sure he excelled in school before getting a scholarship for Oxford in London. There, he studied History and Archaeology, and became an archaeologist. His job has taken him all over the world, but his home base remains London, and he works as both an Archaeology professor in Oxford as well as studying artifacts in England’s Natural History Museum.

WIZARDING WORLD (Taking place throughout the HP series, Timeline varies)

A vampire as a professor? Vlad is! Vlad works at Hogwarts as a History of Magic professor. He doesn’t socialize too much with others outside of when classes are in session, but he does attend every school event and never misses a meeting. He is also a Hufflepuff (I personally think he’s a hybrid of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor…so Gryffinpuff. But to be technical, Hufflepuff).

VAMPIRE KING (Tolkien semi-loosely based, takes place during ‘The Hobbit’ and on; also, using Welsh as the language for Men in my verse since there are hardly any translations in Adunaic, and Welsh is a pretty awesome language so try not to correct me on this for all you super Tolkien canon fanatics)

Vlad Alastor is Edain, from the House of Marach during the First Age. He lived in Dor-lomin, part of Hithlum, and ruled as King for many prosperous yet tough years. But Morgoth struck war upon the lands, and Vlad knew his army wouldn’t be enough to win the war. He sought help from a dark, magical being living in the mountains that turned him into a fampyr (my own derivation from the Welsh spelling for vampire) for a hefty price of his soul once the time came. As Nírnaeth Arnoediad occurred, most of Vlad’s army was defeated but he himself was able to defeat the enemy, driving away the evil forces. But due to Dor-lomin crumbling away from the war, and more evil forces eventually ascending upon the country, Vlad was overthrown as king and banished from the lands he grew up on and ruled. Having an idea, he faked his death, and Vlad ran as far away as he could. Many, many years had passed, and by the time of the Third Age, Vlad is king in Rhun, his residence lay beyond the Sea of Rhun.

ABILITIES AND WEAKNESSES

|+|IMPORTANT|+|

Vlad is part of a bloodline he solely shares with his superior, Caligula: the vampire who turned him, due to having no choice but to dwell in a cave for eons until he was able to pass on his powers to Vlad and set himself free. Therefore, his abilities and weaknesses are different from any other bloodline. His transformation is different, as well as the way he turns others, which never happens unless it happens in a thread.

|+| ABILITIES |+|

~Shapeshifts into bats~Manipulates bats at his will~Super strength and speed~Heightened sight, smell and hearing~Weather manipulation (to an extent)~Mind manipulation (to an extent)~Healing. Very small increments of his blood, when taken via mouth, can heal a person. There is no guarentee that it can revive a person if they are dying.

|+| WEAKNESSES |+|

~ Silver~ Wooden and silver stakes (both fatal if directly piercing his heart)~ Direct sunlight

|+| OTHER INFORMATION |+|

~ Vlad sleeps, but only for a few hours. He needs to be in a completely dark room in order to sleep soundly, or else he’ll be quite irritable.~ Vlad is able to walk during the day while using his weather manipulation powers to cover up the sun’s harmful rays with clouds.~ Holy objects do not harm Vlad. It isn’t specified why in the film, but for RP purposes, it’s due to him being so in-tuned with his religion even when he was turned that his God saw the good in him regardless of the fact he was a now a monster (his religion during the time was and remains to be Orthodox).~ Vlad can eat food but chooses not to usually. The taste of food has not faded for him even though he is a vampire. He does not crave food, nor does he need to live off it, therefore he doesn’t really eat anything unless it's to keep up appearences. Vlad lives off of animal blood mainly, but knows a guy that slips him blood bags from a blood bank to keep in the house.