#I’ve only officially commissioned two pieces so far!

[saaraofthesand]

I cannot be left alone because I’ll commission more art of Yuuko

[zimathan]

In celebration for @dibothy​ and I’s marriage, I’ve made a Draw This In Your Style for everyone! :D Details, bonus images, and more under the cut!

Fun fact, this was meant to be a 2000 followers on tumblr DTIYS! I just, uh... couldn’t finish the original arts. I am now up to 2600 followers, SO, UH... BIT LATE. But!!! Today, the day this is being posted, May 30th, 2022, I and my fiance, @dibothy​ have officially been married - so it is the BEST time to finally finish an attempt at this DTIYS and post it for the masses!

Forgive me if anything’s a little weird, I’ve never hosted one of these.

RULES - Happy Pride Month! This DTIYS will be hosted from May 30th, 2022 until July 10th, 2022. (A happy birthday to my husband, too, since it’s ending on his birthday!) - Pose changes, outfit changes, design changes - they are ALL welcome! The ONLY requirement is that it is a wedding between Zim and Dib! This is (alas) a ZADR only DTIYS! - While I know it’s a DRAW this in your style, I know a lot of wonderful writers exist in the ZADR / IZ community - so we will be accepting both art AND written submissions! ;w; - All submissions on TUMBLR OR INSTAGRAM should be tagged with #zimathanDTIYS! Very important step! (Also, feel free to TAG ME @zimathan​ so that I can see anything, just in case tumblr fucks up and I can’t see something!)

PRIZES A big disclaimer on this bit - I struggle with art at times, and it may take me a while to complete a prize! So long as you guys are respectful and patient, I am absolutely okay with creating prizes for the TOP THREE that @dibothy​ and I choose! I hate having a tier list, so each prize will be the same for the three that we pick! Which is... -drumrolls-...  A full colored piece! You can pick the style (of mine, posted within my art tag) you would like the piece in, you can have UP TO four different characters within said piece, and I will treat the art like a commission! Meaning I will give updates, show progress, and try my best to keep you in the loop! :D (Also, as a note, I am a person with limits, so please be kind, understanding, and respectful if I need you to give me another prompt or idea.)

BONUS CONCEPT ARTS For inspiration, mostly, I’m going to post a few uh... attempts! At finishing this DTIYS!

1-2. My first attempts! I got very far, but it was originally a two-part DTIYS. Very cute art, I just left it sitting too long and forgot how to finish it. <3

3-4. My attempt at a redraw for the original two! I like them both, I just couldn’t motivate myself to finish them! It’s okay, though. :3

5-6. The original concepts for Zim’s dress, and the more Updated tm version of Zim’s dress!

[fairyfuyu]

honey does commissions !

hi cuties ! its honey  ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚

i wanted to make an official post with all the info about commissioning me for a piece ! so if you’re interested, you’re in the right place :)

update: as of 11/22 commissions are CLOSED until 2022 <3

why are you commissioning ? 

i currently am a college student and i work two part time jobs aside from being a full time student. painting and making art is something i do in my free time (or when i cant sleep) because of the joy it brings me, and i really want to be able to share it with other people ! i really appreciate the support i already get for my work on this blog, and i wanted to go ahead and make an official post for anyone out there that may be interested :)

what's a commission ?

basically, you tell me what to make, i do it, and send it your way! right now, i’m commissioning glass paintings, and in terms of what those glass paintings are of, the sky’s the limit ! they don’t have to be strictly from anime, i also can pull references from manga panels if you prefer that :)

do you only paint characters from certain anime ?

so far, i’ve only painted characters from my favorite anime at the moment, but that doesn’t mean i’m not open to shows i have yet to watch ! anime/manga that i’ve completed/are familiar with include:

attack on titan/shingeki no kyojin jujutsu kaisen demon slayer/kimetsu no yaiba death note full metal alchemist: brotherhood tokyo revengers re:zero pretty much anything studio ghibli (spirited away, howl’s moving castle, kiki’s delivery service, princess mononoke, the wind rises, you get the gist)  chainsaw man the promised neverland hunter x hunter cowboy bebop

so, let’s say you want to commission a painting of one of the cuties from haikyuu, totally doable ! as long as you provide me of the image you want, i can do it :)

how much does a commissioned piece cost?

an 8″x 10″ or 8”x 8” glass painting in color : $20

an 11”x 14” glass painting in color : $25

an 8″x 10″ or 8”x 8” manga panel glass painting : $15

an 11” x 14” manga panel glass painting : $20

i don’t have to mix paint or color match for manga panels since they’re just black and white, so it definitely is cheaper, however art from manga tend to be more detailed than from the anime versions :)

how do i commission a piece?

through my ko-fi account !

if you have any questions at all, please don’t hesitate to send me an ask or message me directly! 

thank you so much for your support !  (´꒳`)♡

[i-like-writing-stuff]

definitely love [five hargreeves x reader]

request:  Could you do a Five x reader fic where the reader is kidnapped by the Handler and Five comes to save them. Thx

a/n: it’s kinda short, but i feel like it’s pretty sweet, i guess??? the only warning is some curse words here and there cause i cant help myself and maybe the handler being like a huge y/n x five shipper lmao

perhaps therell be a part 2???

summary: when the handler kidnaps you, don’t you dare think five wouldn’t come to your rescue as soon as possible.

“Listen, lady!” You yelled, rolling your eyes at your former boss, “I have no idea where that dipshit is, alright?!”

The Handler raised a brow at your seventh burst this hour, taking a long drag out of her cigarette, before puffing out the smoke with a laugh, “I’m sorry- I can’t take your seriously when your boobs haven’t even kicked in yet.”

“Oh, you did not go there.” You squinted your eyes at her, trying to launch forward, but to no avail, as the Handler kept on laughing at your attempts of attacking her.

You only laid back in your seat, feeling the ropes around you squeeze you into place. You had been tied to that chair for the past three hours, although no real torture had been inflicted upon you- other than having to listen to the Handler talk for three hours.

Even when you worked for her in the Commission you didn’t like her much. She was too extra, too much work for you, in spite of her gorgeous sense of fashion. All you wanted to do was retire as soon as possible, but when Five Hargreeves got a job there, your world was turned upside down and before you knew it, you were a teenager again, in 2019, trying to stop the apocalypse with his other siblings.

Except that you failed, and you ended up in 1963... with another apocalypse on its way... because somehow you brought it with you.

“What do you even want with him?” You asked, as she stopped laughing to drag another long puff out of her lit cigar.

“Let’s just say I have a deal.” She smirked, turning to you, “And I need to make sure you two will hear me out.”

“Is that why you kidnapped me and brought me here?” You raised a brow, looking around the abandoned warehouse, “That’s cliche.”

“What’ll be cliche is if he finally admits to having feelings for you when he comes to your rescue.” The Handler scoffed, making you raise a brow at her, “Oh, please- we all had bets going on in the Commission on the two of you.”

“Wonderful...” You dryly said, shaking your head in disbelief.

However, somewhere deep within you, you hoped that what the Handler said would become true. You met Five on his first day working for the Commission and you quickly warmed up to each other since you had basically the same personalities, but you, yourself, were having a hard time understanding your feelings. 

You found that sarcastic piece of shit adorable and charming, but you were not gonna admit it to his face- you didn’t need him to get even cockier. He may or may not have shown in the past two weeks signs that he shared your feelings, but you decided not to put that much thought into it, since saving the world was the number on priority on your list.

“Hey!” Five’s voice suddenly rang through the room, as he stumbled in, holding Lila by the arm.

“Lila?” You wondered, confused by the presence of Diego’s crazy girlfriend which he picked up from a... well, crazy house.

“Well done.” The Handler smirked, placing her hands in the pockets of her coat.

“What is Lila doing here?” You frowned, watching as Five threw her on the floor, glaring at the Handler, “Five!”

“You were right to think she is familiar.” Five told you, placing his foot on Lila’s neck, “She is one of them.”

You perked your brows upon hearing the news, looking at the girl on the floor. She helped Diego escape the mental asylum and she’s been on his side ever since, but when you first laid eyes on her, you couldn’t help but get a familiar vibe off her.

Until you realized...

“That’s your kid?” You turned to the Handler, “The girl you adopted?”

You had heard years ago that during a task, somehow the Handler returned with a little girl, but you didn’t put that much thought into it, even if it was a bit strange. Five had a job in London and the Handler accompanied him, but you figured she just wanted to get some- come on, she is really creepy and kinda flirty!

“What?” Five raised a brow, looking at the girl beneath his foot.

“No matter.” The Handler said, stepping towards you, “Here we are... together again.”

“Yeah, it’s a real party.” You sarcastically said, “Ow!” You immediately yelped, as the Handler pulled on your rope, making you jerk back against the chair back, causing Five to tense up.

“I’ve gotta ask.” The Handler said, not once letting go of the rope, making sure the grip on you would be tightened, causing Lila to laugh, even if her throat was being stepped on, “Did you miss me, you little shit? Or did you miss your little girlfriend more?”

“I’ve been gone for only three hours.” You chimed in, making Five shake his head in disbelief, “Besides... nobody ever misses you, really.”

Five decided to put on the same tough guy act, not wanting to reveal his concern, because truth be told- when you didn’t show up at the family meeting that morning, he began feeling stressed. It was not like you not to show up, especially since his brothers and sisters treated you like their own, so that made him tense. 

But, when Lila showed outside the store with a smirk on her lips, he knew immediately she had something to do with it.

Because, truth be told, you were not expecting to let yourself get kidnapped by the Handler. Yeah, she was a great assassin, but you had been holding the title of the best agent in the Commission for the past seven years. That was, before betraying it to help Five save the world and his family.

“Ah, this one.” The Handler smiled sarcastically, letting go of you in order to push you forward.

“Woah!” You yelped, almost losing balance off the chair if Five hadn’t caught you. 

Lila quickly got up coughing before Five could return, but he couldn’t care less. At least you seemed to be fine, no cuts or bruises- the Handler did nothing to you, she was just toying with him to ensure he’d come here to hear out her proposition.

“Now that we’ve made the exchange...” The Handler said, as Five started untying your ropes, “Lila, darling, would you give us a minute, please?”

“Go play with your toys or something...” You taunted the girl, getting up from the seat after three, long hours, rubbing your sore wrists.

“Yes, the grown-ups need to talk.” Five backed you up with a smirk, as Lila only rolled her eyes, walking away from the three of you, knocking something off a table angrily.

“Very mature.” You raised a brow, “I can see how she and Diego made quite the couple.”

“Don’t make me vomit, Y/N.” The Handler scoffed, before changing the subject nonchalantly, “So... do you two lovebirds like jazz?”

After an interesting discussion with the Handler, you and Five walked out of the warehouse in silence, contemplating your decision. She made you two a tough deal, which needed some time to be thought upon, but, unfortunately neither of you had that kind of luxury.

“You know, if we do take the deal...” You spoke up, turning to Five, causing him to stop in his tracks beside you curiously, “It’d be like... one last job together.”

You and Five had been on jobs together before, but you never officially called yourselves partners, even if your success rate was off the charts. You had a great teamwork, so you were not that surprised when the Handler chose you two for a job of this level and risk.

“I don’t even want to think about that just yet...” Five sighed, covering his face tiredly, “We still have another option.”

Your heart ached at the sight- watching Five rub his small face tiredly, all stressed out and overall exhausted, you truly felt bad. You tried helping him, after all that is why you followed him through time, but this was beyond you, and him. 

You knew how much Five loved his siblings, in spite of his attitude towards them. Everything he has done so far it was for him... and you.

You had no idea, but to Five it was surreal. He accepted the fact that he loved his brothers and sisters, but it took him a lot longer to accept that he was actually in love with you. However, it did make sense- you always made him feel better, ever since you guys met. He wasn’t sure if it was love at first sight, but right now, in this moment, he knew it was definitely love.

“But...” Five spoke up, putting on a weak smile, as he placed his hands in his pockets, “At least you are safe now.”

Hearing those words come out of his mouth, your knees felt like they were about to fail you. As Five looked into your eyes, you knew he was sincere, so you couldn’t help the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“All thanks to you.” You quickly smirked, trying to brush off the nervousness, “I mean... she could have picked any one of your siblings to provoke you, but I had the pleasure of spending three dreadful hours with her.” You sighed, folding your arms over your chest, “So, thank you for coming to my rescue.”

“Thank you for playing the damsel in distress.” Five teased you, playfully flicking your forehead as he picked up the pace, “If things don’t work out with dad, now we have a plan B.”

“Hey, don’t let it get to your head!” You quickly yelled, rushing to catch up to him, “I still am a trained assassin!”

“And how exactly did the Handler get her hands on you, then?” Five asked, brushing off the way you absentmindedly locked your arm with his in an attempt to slow him down.

“I was baking cookies.” You slightly shrugged with an innocent smile, “And Frank Sinatra came on the radio, so of course I blasted it through the kitchen.”

“How do you survive?” Five wondered, looking down at you with a small smile on his face, watching as your lips turned to a playful pout.

Yeah... it was definitely love he felt for you.

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

Jellicle Songs: Order of Introduction

So, the Cats wiki says that, though Munkustrap always gets the first line of the show, the rest of the opening lines in Jellicle Songs For Jellicle Cats can go to any character. But, I’ve noticed that there are a few different patterns that different types of productions use, and that most productions after 2002 use the same one.

Now, there are some lines that almost always go to the same characters, most of them in the first and second verses:

“Are you blind when you’re born” is always Munkustrap’s line.

Outside of the Broadway Revival, Demeter always gets “Can you see in the dark?”

The next two lines go to Skimble and Asparagus, though they can go in either order.

The next three lines go to Chorus Tugger, Alonzo, and Babygriz.

The second verse is also almost always the same. It goes: Jellylorum, Coricopat, Jemima/Sillabub, Chorus Deut. Newer productions have Coricopat and Tantomile say both of their opening lines together instead of each getting a separate one.

In older versions, where the twins aren’t in unison, Tantomile opens the third verse.

“Familiar with candle” is always Jenny’s line. Sometimes Victoria sings it with her and sometimes she doesn’t.

“With book and with bell” is where things start to get complicated:

Pattern 1: London Version

There is a clip of a rehearsal of this number in London in 1993 or 1994, a few years before the VHS was done. Though the VHS is mostly London-based, the line distribution differs wildly from what was probably still the order onstage in London while the VHS was being filmed.

Now, for the sake of clarity, I’m going to define what the verses are here. The first and second verse are easy to divide, because they’re both followed by a chorus. But, there’s no chorus between the third and fourth verses. I consider them two separate verses, because the melody repeats.

“Can you ride on a broomstick to places far distant?” opens the third verse.

“Are you mean like a minx? Are you lean like a lynx?” opens the fourth verse.

There are a few lines in these verses that always go to the same character:

“Are you Whittington’s friend?” is Bomba’s line.

“Were you there when the pharaohs commissioned the Sphinx?” is Cassandra’s line.

Not even the Broadway Revival, which seems to delight in breaking from tradition for the sake of it, changes this.

Now, back to the London Pattern.

The lines that differ are:

“With book and with bell”

“The Pied Piper’s assistant”

and every line following it until Cassandra’s line at the end.

So I don’t have to retype entire lines over and over, I’ll nickname the lines:

Book and Bell

Pied Piper

Heaven and Hell

Mean Minx

Lean Lynx

Keen to Be Seen

In London, but the early 90s, and in London-based productions, the order is:

Book and Bell: Admetus/Plato

Pied Piper: Rumpleteazer

Heaven and Hell: Mistoffelees

Mean Minx: Mungojerrie

Lean Lynx: Usually Carbucketty/Pouncival, but this can also go to Bill Bailey/Tumblebrutus.

Keen to Be Seen: Traditionally Etcetera, though the line usually goes to whichever cat will be swinging on the trapeze. In the original London production, that was Etcetera. Most productions don’t include Etcetera (what is wrong with these people?), so the line gets passed around. Productions that include Electra will usually give the line, and the trapeze, to her. Productions that don’t include either queen kitten usually give the line to Bill Bailey/Tumblebrutus, but he’s sometimes switched out with Carbucketty/Pouncival.

The VHS only has two of those lines follow the London pattern. There is a reason for some of this, however. It can mostly be explained by:

Pattern 2: Broadway Version

There’s actually a surviving video recording of the original Broadway cast singing Jellicle Songs on YouTube. A lot of the lines are said offscreen, but I’ve been able to piece together who probably sang what based on other Broadway-based shows that followed the same pattern.

Book and Bell: Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. Now, the original Broadway cast cut these characters, so what they most likely did here was have Carbucketty and Etcetera, the two characters who were cut when Jerrie and Teazer were added, sing those lines. In the Mexico and Buenos Aires versions, both Broadway-based, Jerrie and Teazer sing the lines and you can hear two voices in the Broadway clip. This is probably where they got it from.

Pied Piper: Mistoffelees. I rarely find productions where this line is said offscreen. Misto is a camera magnet.

Heaven and Hell: Plato

Mean Minx: Pouncival

Lean Lynx: Victoria. Only London-based productions had Victoria be completely mute at this time. Others gave her a single opening line to herself, and then nothing for the rest of the show.

Keen to Be Seen: Tumblebrutus. Like with Etcetera, he was the original trapeze cat.

The VHS used the Broadway pattern for Misto’s line only. The VHS Misto was played by Jacob Brent, who was playing Misto on Broadway at the time. Fergus Logan, who was playing Misto in London at the time, played Tumblebrutus in the VHS, which is why he gets Heaven and Hell in that version and that version only. Both actors were given the opening lines they used onstage.

The VHS didn’t borrow anything in the opening from:

Pattern 3: Vienna Version

But, I’m talking about it anyway. Since we have a full recording of the Vienna production and two productions based on it, we can observe that most of the line distribution in the three versions differs from both London and Broadway, but are identical to each other.

Jennyanydots says the entire “Familiar with candle? With book and with bell?” by herself.

Pied Piper: Pouncival. This one was really hard to figure out, because he only sang the line onscreen in the Zurich bootleg, which wasn’t zoomed in. Vienna and Paris, both professionally shot, didn’t show Pouncival saying the line, instead focusing the camera on Mistoffelees. In Broadway-based productions, which these technically are, Misto got this line. But, Vienna-based Mistos are mute. Misto is more officially mute than Victoria in these productions, though Zurich Misto does say “Old Deuteronomy?” at the beginning of that number. He can speak, but he can’t sing, and there are very few spoken lines in the show. In Vienna and Paris, he’s completely mute and has to mime to the twins so they can speak for him.

So, since Misto is mute, Pouncival, usually played by his understudy, says his line while Misto is the one attracting attention to himself.

Heaven and Hell: Plato. This didn’t change from Broadway.

Mean Minx: Tumblebrutus. Now that Pouncival has Misto’s line, Tumble steps in on Pouncival’s line.

Lean Lynx: Victoria, also unchanged from Broadway.

Keen to Be Seen: Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer. Mute Misto created a domino effect of line changes. Pouncival gets Misto’s line, so Tumble gets Pouncival’s line, so Jerrie and Teazer get Tumble’s line, so Jenny sings both her line and their line.

Outliers:

I’ve mentioned the Broadway Revival being weird already, but the other standouts are Hamburg and the VHS. Hamburg and the VHS are the only productions to give Teazer the “Lean Lynx” line. Having Jerrie and Teazer have lines that play off of one another is so obvious that I’m surprised by how rarely it happens.

Also, Teazer was offscreen when she said her line in Hamburg. I’m not entirely sure if it was her. Either Victoria has Book and Bell and she has Lean Lynx, or Teazer has Book and Bell, which she normally shares with Jerrie, and Victoria has Lean Lynx, her usually Broadway line. I actually couldn’t tell, so this might not even be a thing.

The main VHS outlier is Electra with the “Book and Bell” line. I haven’t seen any other production do this and it probably wasn’t what London was doing at the time. The way they’d arranged everything else, you would think they would’ve given the line to Plato. You’d also think they’d give Pouncival Lean Lynx. Perhaps they wanted to try something new, and giving Jerrie and Teazer these lines works too well for no one to do it.

These Modern Productions:

First, because Broadway and Vienna had Jerrie and Teazer share a line while Coricopat and Tantomile had separate lines, and newer productions have the Psychic Twins sing their lines together, there’s an interesting reversal. Earlier shows put emphasis on Coricopat and Tantomile as separate characters, while sometimes having Jerrie and Teazer act in unison. In newer shows, the opposite is true. And the opposite is always true, because nearly every production uses the London Pattern.

I went through my entire bootleg/pro-shot collection and searched the Cats wiki and YouTube for clips from other shows to compare as many Jellicles Songs as I could find. Around half of them are from the era between 1981 and 2002, when the original London production was going, while the other half are from after that.

Japan and the Broadway Revival broke from tradition to such an extent that I couldn’t factor them in. Japan has its own traditions and the Broadway Revival saw itself as a reset of the show, so it tried to be as different from what came before as possible.

Hamburg and the VHS are also outliers, but they have more overlap with other productions than the above two. The above two are the only versions to have a character other than Demeter get the second line. They break from any pattern immediately. Hamburg and the VHS mostly keep their pattern-breaking to the third and fourth verses.

So, the Older Productions are:

London

Broadway

Vienna

Paris

Zurich

Mexico

Buenos Aires

Hamburg

The 1998 VHS

US Tour V (Though all the bootlegs are from 2005 or later, it was still a Broadway-based production that started up in 2001 as a continuation of the original Broadway)

The Newer Productions:

London Revival

UK Tour 2013

UK Tour 2016

Berlin

German Tent Tour

Madrid

Moscow

Dutch Tour

Out of the Older Productions, only the London production used the London Pattern. Broadway, Mexico, and Buenos Aires all used the Broadway Pattern, with Hamburg also doing a very similar thing. Based directly on Broadway, US Tour V also used the Broadway pattern, despite being newer than the other versions in this category. The VHS was a hybrid of London and Broadway. Vienna, Paris, and Zurich used the Broadway pattern

London: 1

Broadway: 4

Vienna: 3

Other: 2

There’s a fair amount of diversity with a slight lean towards the Broadway Pattern. The productions that use the Broadway Pattern exactly are all from the Americas. Different regions of Europe have their own variations.

As for the newer productions, excluding the Broadway Revival, they all use the London Pattern. Every single one of them. Three of the productions are from the UK, so that’s to be expected, but the pattern is now everywhere. Berlin was partially based on Hamburg and started in 2002, right as the original London was closing, but it uses the London Pattern. Other German productions followed suit, taking more inspiration from London than from earlier German language productions. The first production in Dutch, Amsterdam, was Vienna-based, but the Dutch Tour is London-based.

Honestly, I’m kind of disappointed. There’s nothing wrong with the London Pattern or London-based productions, but do they all have to be like that? I’d prefer for there to be some diversity. The Broadway Revival provides that, since America always has to be different from everyone else, but I honestly don’t like the Revival arrangement. In earlier versions, each line went to a different character, while the Broadway Revival gives some characters multiple lines, leaving characters who’d normally have lines with nothing. Skimble has his line, but he also gets Keen to Be Seen. Jellylorum gets both her line and Jenny’s line. Sillibub gets her line and Lean Lynx. Munkustrap has three lines to himself.

So, though I appreciate the Broadway Revival for giving us something different, I wish it could provide a good different

tldr: Every production in the western world is either London or Blankenbuehler and that’s a bit boring.

[cassiabaggins]

Wedding

A/N: Part/day six! Thank you all so much for your support! Please leave a comment/reblog if you enjoy this!

Wordcount: 2k

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Tags: @anjhope1 @deathlikessodaandpizza @guardianofrivendell @myrin1234 @wettomatodude @lothloriien @annkdarar @artsywaterlily @hmmm-what-am-i-doing @drowingintheempty @estethell @claraofthepen @kilielweek

Warnings: mention of miscarriage

Summary: Kili and Tauriel are finally wed

Kili has been quiet all day. That's unusual. Tauriel carefully combs her fingers through his hair and rests her chin on his shoulder. He's staring into the fire. 

"You seem distressed," she says gently.

He grunts wordlessly, so she gives him a kiss on the cheek and strokes his hair. "Kili. Talk to me. What ails you?"

Kili is quiet for a little bit longer, putting his hand over hers, before letting out a long sigh. “They want me to get married,” He says.

“Who is ‘they’?” She asks gently. 

“The Council.”

“All of them?"

“No, not all of them, but those that do are quite loud.” He draws his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them. “They want me to produce an heir.”

“What about your brother? He’s already married!”

“They think his child won’t be ‘pure’ enough.” He puts quotations with his fingers around the word ‘pure’. “First they tried to get him to annul his marriage, then they tried to get him to take a mistress, but he’d rather die than disrespect his wife like that, so they gave up and focused on me.” He clenches his fist. “It makes me so angry! Arranged marriages go against everything I’ve ever been taught about how dwarrow love. All of this does! It goes against our nature!”

Tauriel moves so she’s no longer sitting behind him, but beside him, taking his hand. 

“What do you mean by that, meleth nin?”

“I mean dwarrow don’t arrange marriages! We only love once, and only one person. Mahal, most of us don’t even experience sexual desires until we meet our One!”

“What if you don’t find the One? Or what if they don’t feel the same?”

“Then we don’t marry. We dedicate our lives to our crafts!”

“Is that what you would have done if I hadn’t come back?”

“Yes. Of course I would have.” He notices the sadness on her face and squeezes her hand. “Don’t look like that, amrâlimê, it’s not so bad. You don’t need love to be happy.”

She leans forward and kisses him. “There’s something awful romantic about that, loving only one person your entire life.”

“Aye, it is.” Kili frowns. “But now they want me to go against that and marry some lass from Rhun. She’s nice enough, I suppose, her name is Mhaite, but—”

“But you don’t love her.”

“But she’s not you.”

Tauriel smiles gently at him. 

“I don’t want to marry anyone but you,” Kili says, flopping down into her lap. She strokes her hand through his hair. 

“And I don’t want you to marry anybody but me.”

He sighs melancholically, taking her hand and kissing her wrist. She continues stroking his hair with her free hand when suddenly she is struck by an idea. 

“What if we eloped?”

Kili sits right up and stares at her. “What?”

“What if,” she repeats, “we eloped. If we got married, they couldn’t make you marry her, right?”

“They could try to get me to divorce you.”

“But you can refuse them, correct?”

“Well, yes. They cannot force an annulment if both parties refuse. Especially if Fili doesn’t approve, since only a king or queen can annul marriages.”

"So your brother is behind us, who else?"

"I'm sure I could get Dwalin to represent you," Kili says, excitement leaking into his voice and gestures, "he likes you, though he won't admit it. Ori can draft up marriage documents, Dori can make us wedding clothes, and Bombur and Cassia can cook and—"

She stops him with a finger over his lips, laughing softly. "This is becoming less of a secret elopement and more of a wedding the longer you talk," she teases. 

Kili shrugs and kisses her fingers. "I can't help that I want to get my friends involved."

"Too many people and the secret will leak," she cautions. "The Council will put a stop to it before it can even begin."

He sighs. "Yes, I suppose you're right."

.

In the end, they limit it to just Kili's family, Balin, and Dwalin. The sons of Fundin agree to represent Tauriel's family surprisingly easily, and Kili's mother and younger sister will represent him. Fili will officiate and his wife will be a witness. The wedding will take place in the council chamber of Erebor in two months time, long enough that the wedding beads can be made, but soon enough that the council members who are against the union do not have the time to put a stop to it. 

.

King Fili is looking over a trade agreement in King Bard’s office, the end of his quill in his mouth and his face all scrunched up with concentration in a way that makes him look unnervingly like his younger brother. Tauriel sidles up to him and taps him on the shoulder. She really shouldn't be distracting him, but she needs his advice. Fili scratches out some letters and looks up at her, dipping his quill back in ink. "Hullo, Tauriel," he says with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

"I need help," she declares and the smile vanishes for a worried frown. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"Not in the way you think," she says. Fili gives her a baffled look and Tauriel twiddles her thumbs awkwardly. "Dwalin mentioned I was meant to make beads for when I marry Kili," she explains, "only… I've not the slightest idea how!"

"Is that all?" Fili asks with relief.

"...Yes."

The king slides the paper he's been looking at out of his way. "Well, you came to the right dwarf. Do you have a material you're planning on using?" 

She shakes her head.

"Do you have a design?"

Another shake of the head. Fili sighs. "Oh dear."

"I don't even know where to begin! I've no idea how to craft jewelry!"

"Well, don't panic, there's no rule saying you have to make them. You just have to design them. It's common enough for a dwarf to commission a close friend to help create their wedding beads." 

Tauriel lets out a relieved sigh. "Oh, good." Then she frowns. “Kili will be making mine, though, won’t he?”

“Aye, most likely. His craft is jeweling after all.”

“Then I want to make his,” She declares.

“It won’t be easy,” Fili cautions.

“I don’t care. I want to try.”

"If you do, then far be it from me to try and stop you. Now, let's talk about materials. The most common are stone or metal, but wood or some sort of gemstone isn't unheard of. Any of those catch your attention?" 

Tauriel shakes her head. "I feel as if I need to hold the materials to see what I think."

Fili nods. "Next time I visit Dale, I'll bring you some examples."

She grins. "Oh, good! Oh, thank you!"

"Think nothing of it."

.

The next day, Fili arrives at her home as promised with the materials. He's brought some silver and gold and jewels, but what really catches Taurile’s eye is a beautiful piece of wood. She picks it up and turns it over in her hands. Fili sees her interest.

“That’s walnut wood,” he says. 

“It’s lovely.”

“Is that what you want to use?”

Tauriel turns the wood over in her hands. “Yes.”

“Good choice.”

“Only…” she frowns. “I can see why a material like metal or stone would be used, that can last for centuries, but wood? How do you keep the beads from wearing out?”

“We have charms for that,” Fili says, “to make them last. Don’t worry about that.”

“Oh, good.”

He begins to tie his hair back, pulling out tools from his bag, along with a sketchbook. “All right, let’s get to work.” He flips through his sketchbook to a fresh page and picks up a charcoal stick to draw with. “Any design ideas?”

Tauriel frowns, tapping thoughtfully on the wood. “Well… no.”

“Well, what makes you think about him? When I was designing beads for my wife, I thought of all the things that made me think of her and used those for my design. So, what makes you think of Kili?”

Tauriel thinks. “Uh, stars, and the moon, and mountains, mostly.”

“That’s a good start!” Fili says, passing the sketchbook and drawing stick to Tauriel. “Just… start drawing.”

She frowns and takes them gingerly. “I’m not much of an artist.”

“We can clean up the sketch later, just put down some ideas,” he says reassuringly.

.

In the end, she decides on an image of the Mountain with the moon rising behind it and a star above the moon. It’s simple and pretty, and Fili gives his stamp of approval. Then, the carving lessons begin. Woodworking is not something Tauriel has ever done and it’s not Fili’s craft, but he's a patient teacher and she’s a quick learner. She doesn’t expect to become such close friends with her future brother in law, but she and Fili end up having much more in common than they initially think, including but not limited to their affections for knives and Kili.

It takes time, and lots of practice, but by the day of the wedding, the final beads are done. They’re wide and flat beads with the pattern she came up with carved on one side and their names on the other. 

“Just promise me something?” Fili asks as he looks over the beads one final time. 

“What is it?” She queries. He looks up at her. 

“Please don’t leave him again. I don’t think he could bear it.”

Tauriel wants to tell him she hasn’t the slightest intention of doing that, that she came back for Kili and only for Kili, that not even wild horses could keep her away from him… but she doesn’t. “I won’t. I promise.”

.

There’s no fancy decorations or clothes for the wedding, no festive lights or stars or firemoons, just the dim torches illuminating the council chamber, and Kili’s smile illuminating her heart as they walk to stand together before Fili to be wed.

Tauriel takes Kili’s hand and he smiles up at her. “You look like a dream, amrâlimê,” he murmurs. 

“A good dream?”

“Yes. A fantastic dream.” He turns her hand over and kisses the inside of her wrist. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Together, they turn towards Fili and the wedding begins.

Their vows are in Khuzdul, the traditional words, so no dwarf can say the wedding is invalid. The words are foreign on her tongue, but she knows them and their meaning even in her sleep. 

Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, we are two bodies but one soul and my heart is tied to yours. I vow to walk with you and treasure you like the finest of jewels, through this life and the next. 

With those words, they weave the braids and beads into each other’s hair, Tauriel bites her lip as she does so, worried her wooden beads look shabby and silly next to the fine diamond-flecked beads he’s made her. But then, he smiles up at her, and looks at the beads like they’re pure mithril, and she knows he thinks they’re beyond precious. Fili says a few more words in Khuzdul, declaring the marriage complete and valid and handing them each a quill to sign the marriage document. As soon as that is over, Kili swings Tauriel into his arms and kisses her like she's water in the desert and she kisses back just as passionately. She can hear the family, no, her family now, laughing around them. She cups his face in her hands and nuzzles her nose to his. “I love you,” she whispers. 

“I love you, too,” he responds, wrapping his arms around her waist. “My wife.”

“My hus—"

Before she can fully respond, the door to the council chamber slams open. Lord Khar is standing in the doorway. "What is the meaning of this?!" He shouts, "why is that elf in the mountain?!"

"This," Fili says, picking up his quill and signing the marriage document, sealing the wedding as complete, "is a wedding."

"A wedding?! What?! Between who?!"

"Between my brother, Prince Kili, and Captain Tauriel of Dale, formerly of Mirkwood."

"No! Never! I will not accept it!"

"You don't have to accept it, you simply have to be quiet," Fili says. "I wear the crown, not you. And I have signed this document and officiated this marriage. It is done."

Khar looks positively apoplectic, his face turning an impressive shade of red. Kili squeezes Tauriel's hand reassuringly and looks up at her. She knows he won't let anything tear them apart, and she feels the same, responding to his look with a soft smile. 

Lord Khar lets out a wordless, angry noise at the sight of their joined hands and storms toward them, arms outstretched as if he will try to force them apart with pure physical strength alone. Tauriel acts on instinct, swinging Kili behind her (as if a warrior prince of the Line of Durin would need protection) and halting Khar with a harsh blow to the shoulder. "Do not lay your hands on us," she spits. 

The dwarf lord goes purple, holding his shoulder. "You cannot—"

"I suggest you listen to her, Khar," Kili says smugly, "my wife is rather deadly when she is angry." He says the words ‘my wife’ with utter relish, rubbing it in the older dwarf’s face, who snarls angrily and steps away from the two of them. "My Lord King," he turns to Fili, attempting a different tactic, "surely you cannot condone this! This elf has bewitched you, can you not see it?"

"I have bewitched no one!" Tauriel cries indignantly. "I'm no wizard, I wouldn't even know where to begin!"

Cassia, peeking around Fili, lets out a little titter of laughter. Kili laughs as well, but the dwarf is well warned away from him. He turns his blazing eyes on the Hobbit Queen. "Don't think you are any better, halfling! You who would put weak, sickly halfbreeds on the Throne of Erebor, if you could only manage to carry one long enough for it to live."

The uproar is instantaneous. Cassia makes a soft, pained little whimper, placing her hand over her abdomen, Dwalin reaches for a weapon, Balin exclaims condemningly, Dis and the princess cry out in indignation, Kili and Tauriel both step forward, either to protect their friend or hurt the dwarf lord, they don't know. They don't make it far enough to find out. 

Fili punches Khar in the nose, knocking him to the ground. Khar howls with pain, holding his face.

"You've said enough," Fili spits, his eyes blazing with something feral and unhinged. It's an expression Tauriel has never seen on any face, especially not kind, gentle Fili. "Shut your mouth before I shut it permanently."

Cassia gently takes his arm and he takes a deep, steadying breath. “Khar, son of Zodar, as King of Erebor, I am relieving you of your position on the council of Erebor!"

"On what grounds?!"

"Disrespect of your queen, constant undermining of your king, and," Fili crouches down and reaches into the dwarf's pocket, pulling out a golden seal, "unlawful possession and use of the council seal." 

“You cannot just---!”

“I can, actually.” Fili turns to Kili, "I believe you two have a wedding night to get to. I can handle this here."

“Are you sure?” Kili asks. His brother nods. “All right.” He takes Tauriel’s hand and draws her toward the door. “Yasith, let’s go.”

She looks down at him. “Will they be---”

“Fili can handle it.”

They leave the mountain together, returning to Dale, to Tauriel’s home on the outskirts of the city. No one stops them in Erebor at Kili’s command, and no one stops them in Dale at hers. “I have something to show you,” she says, shutting the door behind them. Kili takes her waist and draws her near him. 

“Is it you?” he asks cheekily, standing up on his toes to kiss her. She kisses back, laughing a little. 

“No,” she says, and then hums, “well, yes, but not yet, just… come with me.” She gives him one last kiss and draws away, taking his hand. He weaves his fingers through hers and lets her lead him through the house to the very top floor, and from there, up another flight of stairs and through a door into the open air. 

“You lead me around all secretly to show me the roof?” Kili asks, “Amrâlimê, I’ve been here before.”

She laughs and pulls him forward. Set up in the center of the open space is a mattress and a huge pile of pillows and blankets, surrounded by many candles and lanterns (as yet unlit), a basket of food, and several bottles of wine. “It’s tradition for the marriage to be consummated under the stars,” she says softly, looking down at him. “We don’t have to, but---”

Kili swings her into his arms for a kiss. “This wedding has been all about my traditions,” he murmurs when they come up for air, “I would be honored to partake in some of yours.” And, hand in hand, he leads her toward the bed.

.

The next morning as Tauriel awakens to birdsong, wrapped in Kili’s arms beneath the open sky, she knows this is where she is supposed to be, and she will fight for it with everything she has.

[inkstaineddove]

Man as Mirror

Ships: PruAus if you wish; background PruHun and FraAus

Characters: Roderich, Gilbert; mentioned Erzsi + Francis

Summary: Arriving home early from Paris, Roderich encounters a shirtless Gilbert in his kitchen, leading them to have a conversation Roderich could've gone without.

Vienna, 1774.

Once his carriage safely rolled to a stop, Austria stepped out of it and stretched. While even he could not deny the beauty of Paris, nothing pleased the heart quite like home. Servants rushed about him, ushering in his extensive luggage. Sidestepping away from them, he gazed up at the early-morning sky and allowed himself the luxury of taking it all in. The fading purple of night, the sun shyly poking its face out through his hedges, and the birds singing their daily hymns. Truly, there was nowhere quite like home.

Feeling sufficiently uplifted, he entered the home and mindlessly made his way up the stairs. He froze once his hand hovered above the doorknob to his bedroom. He had been burned once before doing this and while, thankfully, all other parties had been asleep, the event had caused him enough mental anguish to power him through another three decades. Still, the desire to change out of his travel clothes was nigh impossible to dismiss. Leaning an ear against the door, his decision was made for him when he heard something like a moan come from Erzsébet. Changing could wait.

All remnants of his good mood dissipated as he silently grumbled to himself about their guest. While it certainly came as no surprise – Erzsébet did this every time he was out of town and, honestly, Roderich had grown to expect it – but hearing them was different. Sure, he was no fool and they made no effort to pretend but having indisputable proof of their trysts was another. Roderich was cursed to have found a spouse and enemy full of cunning. He noted that, if the two of them ever put their powers to good use, he’d have to compliment them for it. For now, while he was their target, any appreciation was out of the question.

He felt his body yearning for caffeine and knew what the next item on his agenda must be. Still lost in his thoughts, he was completely caught off guard at the sight of a bare-chested Gilbert standing over the kitchen counter. It was comical, really, watching such a brutish man delicately pour cream into two dainty mugs, mentally measuring out the right amounts. Roderich stood back and watched the whole performance in domesticity, studying the man before him as he never had before. The way his back and shoulder muscles shifted with each movement; how he never slouched even when it would be far more comfortable to; how the whole time, he never stopped humming marches to himself.

This scene felt too intimate and Roderich understood that he was not its intended audience. What he needed most from his rival now was hostility and not misguided fantasies of marital bliss. He cleared his throat and stepped into Gilbert’s line of sight. “For me? How sweet of you.” He snatched the mug closest to him and added in his usual five spoonsful of sugar. He held up a finger when he felt Gilbert gearing up to protest. “She’s still asleep. Besides, no one likes waking up to cold coffee. It sets such a tone for the day.”

They settled into a tense silence, neither one wanting to acknowledge the other. It was childish, Roderich understood, but failing to will the other out of his existence was better than devolving into petty insults or a physical altercation. And, if he ignored all rational thoughts, he didn’t even care. When around each other, what else were they but ancient children? There was no reason for them to speak, why invent one?

“Paris again? How many times have you been there over the last three months?” There almost appeared to be a hint of affectionate teasing in Gilbert’s words.

Roderich turned to face him and was surprised to find Gilbert already observing him with mild interest. What a strange morning, one he wished he could find some escape in by returning to bed but felt certain would provide him with no real escape. If anything, the pair would wake him up and demand he leave his own damn bed for another room, that’s how selfish they were. Against his will, he felt himself noticing the strength in Gilbert’s body, all broad shoulders and muscle, the physique of the ideal warrior. All suddenly clicked on why Roderich always found himself flat on his ass whenever they’d begin to trade blows. His arrogance had blinded him to the fact that imperial power mattered little when they weren’t trying to kill each other on the battlefield. With biceps like that, his only chance to get the upper hand would be a swift kick to the groin, which even at his worst he was too principled to resort to.

He was brought back to reality when Gilbert began snapping his fingers in his face. “Jesus, has anyone ever told you how creepy that staring thing you do is? Like you were trying to undress me with your eyes.” He straightened up and shivered. “Commission a portrait, it’ll last longer.”

“Please, don’t be so crass. This,” Roderich flippantly pointed to Gilbert’s outfit, “is already enough. If I imagined you in any less, I’d be ill for at least a month.”

Gilbert smirked as he took a sip. “Funny, most people have the opposite reaction.” He leaned his hips back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, how much more stalling can you do? What’s kept you in Paris so much? I don’t recall most treaties taking that much time to…hammer out.” He bit his lip, trying to suppress his snickering.

“It’s rude to talk work at breakfast.” Austria couldn’t be bothered to mask his irritation. Things such as ‘politeness’ and ‘civility’ always seemed to go to waste on Prussia. “And, if you’re fishing for what’s in our agreement, you’ll have no such luck from me. You’re wasting your time.”

“You think I give a damn about what’s on a fucking piece of paper? As if I’d be wasting my time on that. I don’t know who blabs more for the right price, your officials or France’s.” Gilbert’s demeanor was too casual. “Most of the time, we don’t have to go to those damn meetings anyways. We’re little more than decorations, the bureaucrats have everything written before they even breathe a word to us. We know that, they know that. There are always ulterior motives for our little business trips. Whenever I come here, I tell my current minder I’ll be off doing a diplomatic something-or-other in Vienna for a week, don’t wait up.  They buy it even though they know the real reason I come to this shrine of gaudy antiques.”

“Your point, Gilbert?”

“My point is that you’re no different. Sure, you tell everyone that you’re renegotiating this or that little detail and maybe your officials believe it. And you tell it to Erzsi, and she believes it since it’s easier than thinking the husband she loathes so much is just as miserable as her. And maybe you believe it too because you have to lie to yourself first to lie to everyone else. But you can’t fool me.”

The whole time he spoke, Roderich was staring down into the contents of his mug. When all was quiet between them was when he finally looked up, laughing. “You must be desperate if you’re begging to get a morsel of gossip on me from me.”

Gilbert scoffed. “I’m not fishing for gossip. If I was, I would’ve gone through your letters while you were gone. And, before you ask, I’ve never done that. Not for lack of trying, I’m just not good at picking locks.”

The vein behind Roderich’s left eye began pulsating. He rubbed his temple gingerly, wincing. “I think I prefer it when you act like you can’t stand to be in the same room with me. Why the annoying younger brother schtick?”

“Maybe I’m making up for lost time.” For added emphasis, Gilbert made sure to loudly schlurp down a sip. Roderich’s wince at such a noise caused him to snort some coffee out his nose. Wiping it away, he grinned. “Or maybe I just want you to stop thinking you’re any better than me. Get you when you’re unguarded.”

“There’s a glaring hole in your plan. You’ve forgotten that I would never allow myself to be so vulnerable around you, no matter what time of day it is.” He mockingly shook his head, tutting. “I understand that, for now, we’re officially getting along just fine, but don’t mistake that for camaraderie. The first chance either of us gets, we’ll be back to stabbing each other in the back for sport. It’s who we are.”

“Well, aren’t you a pessimist.”

“Hardly. I simply know our natures too well,” Roderich sighed, growing weary at this line of conversation. “So, if this is only temporary, why should I feign tolerance towards you? Quite honestly, you’re not important enough to me for that sort of performance. Even if you were, you would see right through it. No, my energy is better spent on nobler pursuits.”

Gilbert had set his mug down, now drumming his fingers on the countertop. “I’m not asking for friendship; I’m asking for honesty.” He rolled his eyes with the temperament of a teenager. “Whatever. You got me sidetracked. It’s pointless anyways; you’re too delusional.”

“Excuse me?” That was quite the accusation from an unusual source. “At this point, you may as well come right out and say it.”

“If you insist,” Gilbert’s tone lilted up, songlike and jeering. “What you won’t admit is what I started this whole conversation with. All these trips to Paris, they’re not about work or diplomacy or any of your other shitty excuses. I know and you know that the only purpose is to blow a load in Francis’ ass and get away from your miserable life.”

Roderich set his mug down gently. There was no need for it to spill, to make a mess all over the clean marble. “For a moment, I’m going to ignore the vulgar insinuation you’ve made about my relationship with Francis.” He looked up, not breaking eye contact with Gilbert. “You know nothing about my life and my contentment with it. I understand that you are a deeply unhappy and wretched creature and why shouldn’t you be? There is nothing for you to go home and boast about, no shining accomplishments of yours not bathed in the blood of an innocent people, but do not project your misery onto me. For all your crowing to the contrary, we have never been, nor will we ever be, the same.”

Gilbert scoffed. “And everything you’ve ever done, there was only glory to be found there? All the princes you absorbed into your own lands, they were willing? The Bohemians, the Hungarians, they love your rulers? Are you pretending that only Russia and I invaded Poland because I remember seeing you at the table, carving out portions for yourself.”

“I’m not so naïve to believe I haven’t picked up the sword before. And, if necessary, I would again. You’d be wise to remember that.” Roderich straightened up, pulling his shoulders back. “But I’ve achieved just as much without force as with. The home we’re currently standing is a monument to such.”

“Please. It’s a monument to other people’s power and what it can get you. We don’t impact change, we just ride the waves of it,” Gilbert sneered. “This house is a prison for all who come in it. A golden cage is still a cage, Roderich, even for the largest bird.”

Roderich sighed with a roll of his eyes. “Mixing your metaphors doesn’t make you sound wiser, I’ve told you this before.” Needing caffeine for his growing headache, he took a sip. “I assume you’re including yourself among the captives.”

“To a degree. I can leave whenever I want – as you love to point out, I do have my own house – but where would one of us be without the other two? We are the protagonists of our own tragedy.”

“I sincerely regret that old king of yours got you into theater. Next you’ll be telling me how all the world’s a stage and we are but merely players.” When Gilbert opened his mouth to comment on that, Roderich held up his hand. “That wasn’t an invitation for your Shakespearean theories!” He rubbed the bridge between his nose, his prior weariness intensifying. “Why does it matter to you so much? Why must I parade my discontent as you and Erzsébet do? If you make your life’s purpose revenge against an unjust world – there you go! I admit it’s unjust! – you are sure to become more miserable than ever before. Perhaps you should learn that before it destroys you like one of your dear tragedies.”

“It matters because you act like you’re superior to us in every way when, really, you’re no different. And I don’t think I’ll ever understand that,” Gilbert’s voice softened with something akin to regret.

Something in his tone of voice, in his posturing, lit a fire within Roderich. His eyes hardened and he pressed his lips into a scowl. “Understanding is what you want? If it’ll get the defiling power of your pity off me, then so be it! I am better than you in every conceivable way. If I am to you but a mirror, peer close and you’ll realize it too. Where you feel trapped by the circumstances life has thrown us in, with a life that can never truly be our own, I’ve taken what you’ve failed to grasp. While you were slaughtering pagan Easterners in your little bog, I was here, accumulating wealth and power you’ve only fantasized about. I am the seat of an empire that you only have access to through Brandenburg.

“But those are meaningless things, aren’t they? Because here’s what really matters to you – the only thing, isn’t it? I’ve seen how you stare; I know that look – I’ve got what a childhood spent pining among the monks prevented you from getting. Did you ever mention it to them? How young love made that vow of celibacy torturous? How close did you come to breaking it? How many Hail Mary’s did they make you perform for every impure thought? Do you wonder what they’d think of you now, going through all this because you’re in love with your brother’s wife? Phrased just so, they would burn you at the stake again. Ah, but the hellfire is familiar, isn’t it?” Roderich glanced at the clock hanging behind Gilbert’s shoulder. “Erzsébet should be waking now. Go play domestic and bring my wife some coffee.”

Roderich forced himself away from Gilbert, who was left crestfallen with his wide eyes and gaping mouth. He had said enough, gloating would be overkill. He entered his study and locked the door. If there would be consequences for his monologue, let them come later.

The day was still new. Roderich stared out the window. Despite checking the clock, his adrenaline had made him forget the time. He approximated it was no more than nine. He began pouring himself a glass of brandy, but stopped, preferring to drink from the bottle. He gazed around the vast emptiness of the room beyond its sole occupant. He raised the bottle for a toast:

“To the prison of my own making. There is no place quite like home.”

[alyasgf]

Teenage Rebellion -Adrinette April Day 2-5

Previous || Next

Summary- Marinette convinces Adrien to sneak out! Featuring a daring escape, Jagged Stone concert, André’s ice cream, game night, and cuddling!

Notes- knocking out 5 prompts in 1 because I’m late! Featuring prompts 2-5 rebellion, game night, best friends, and jagged stone! I decided to skip the commission prompt, at least for right now, which is why this was made :)

Side note! they know each others secret identities identity but Chat never officially said he had a crush on Ladybug. Therefore Marinette is fully aware of Adrien’s crush on her and is a huge flirt about it.

AO3

She had been trying to convince Adrien all day and if she kept using those faces he just knew he’d cave soon.

“I told you I can’t! I have a photoshoot and fencing practice Mari.” He said, avoiding her eyes.

“I barely got Jagged to give us these tickets last minute! And they’re backstage passes. Backstage Adrien. Picture it with me.” She pulled him in my his shoulders, looping her arm around him.

Adrien tried to suppress a chill and conserve his nerves. Her arm was around him. No big deal.

“Just you, me, the biggest rockstar in the world, and his huge pet alligator! Tell me its not worth your fathers wrath. You could even hide out at my place and spend the night! You wouldn’t have to deal with him until the next day.” She then turned to him, holding his shoulders and staring into his eyes.

“You have got to live a little Adrien. What’s the worst that could happen?”

And with that he caved.

“Fine what time is the concert.” He said, signing defeatedly.

“Yes!” Marinette pumped her first in the air and excitedly told him her plan.

————————

At exactly 3:01 pm the next day he heard tapping at his window.

“You’re late.” He said to the girl two stories down outside his window.

“By a minute, I think you’ll live. Now throw down your bag.”

“Nathalie will be coming to get me in 30 minutes. I need to be long gone.” He explained, throwing his tied lined of curtains down for her to hold still as he climbed.

“Be careful, we don’t have time to stop at a hospital due to a broken leg and I don’t need you getting rope burn or messing up that pretty face.” She teased.

“Oh shut up I’m trying to focus over here.” He struggled to get down without accidentally sliding.

“You’re taking too long! You’re more than halfway just jump I’ll catch you I promise.” She said, and when Adrien looked down she was tapping her watch.

“Are you insane? I don’t have a death wish Mari, just wait a second.”

It was at this moment she chose to start silently chanting jump.

“This is peer pressure you know!”

“Shut up and jump already.”

“No!”

“Jump!”

He jumped.

As he braced himself for the short fall he felt himself feel in soft, unsteady arms.

They both toppled to the ground laughing with the rush of adrenaline.

“You’d catch me huh.” He said once they calmed down.

They laid shoulder to shoulder in the grass heads turned to one another.

Before Marinette could come up with a witty reply they heard something that made them freeze.

“Adrien I heard noise whats going on in her-“

They turned up to see Nathalie’s head sticking out the window, a look of surprise in her eyes.

Adrien knew he was doomed. Still stood up and gave her pleading eyes with his hands formed in a prayer form.

“I didn’t see this. As far as I know you said you weren’t feeling good and I had to cancel your appointments. Understood?”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Adrien said, beaming brighter than the sun.

“Does this mean we can go through the front gate?” Marinette asked sheepishly.

“What was your plan if you couldn’t?” Nathalie asked with a disappointed look.

“Sneak through unnoticed?” Marinette offered.

“Mari! You said you had a plan.” Adrien said turning to her with his arms crossed.

“I never said it was a good one.” She said shrugging.

Nathalie nodded and they went on their way.

Outside of the gate was Marinette’s bike and two helmets.

“Where am I supposed to get on?” Adrien asked, confused.

Then he saw Marinette eye the handlebars.

“No no no! Absolutely not!” He protested.

“Do you wanna see Jagged or not?”

Adrien rode on the handlebars.

—————————

“Marinette would you slow down! I don’t wanna fall off!”

“Watch your sharp turns!”

“Sidewalk! Sidewalk! Sidewalk!”

“Adrien, lean left I can’t see!”

“If I lean we’re gonna fall Mari!”

“Have a little faith in me!”

“Dear god help us.”

“Would you calm down drama queen!”

“Hey!”

They rode with his small suitcase on wheels dragging behind them, tied with a single rope Marinette had brought.

By the time they got to Marinette’s house Adrien had lost count of the near death experiences he had on that bike.

“Never again Marinette.” He huffed as he got off the bike with shaking legs.

“Bonding experience!” She said with a smirk.

She pulled him into the bakery. He said a quick hi to her parents before he was yanked over to the trapdoor.

“Hurry and put your stuff in my room. If we start running late we won’t have time to walk which would mean another fun bike ride Sunshine.”

“Marinette I would really like to see Jagged Stone in one piece if thats not to much to ask.” He huffed, climbing the trapdoor, throwing his suitcase in, and coming back down.

“Are we going or what?”

“Get ready for the time of your life Agreste.” She said in a way that lit Adrien’s heart on fire.

Adrien could get used to that tone.

—————————

By the time they left the concert Adrien wasn’t sure anything ever could top that day.

He and Marinette had spent the last 5 hours singing at the tops of their lungs front row at a Jagged Stone concert. They danced together and Adrien had never felt more alive.

Adrien bought them matching t-shirts (as a thank you to Marinette for getting the tickets, not because he thought they looked like a couple when they matched or anything.) When they went backstage to meet Jagged, he signed their shirts and gave them signed CDs and posters.

Needless to say they were on top of the world.

Marinette suggested they take the long way home because it was such a beautiful night, and who was Adrien to disagree?

Their luck led them to André and his magical ice cream.

“Oh I don’t know Adrien I don’t think i can finish an ice cream right now.” Marinette said, trying to pull them along.

“Then maybe we can share?” Adrien suggested nervously.

Marinette shrugged and Adrien took it as a yes. She decided to sit on a bench as Adrien went to get the ice cream.

“Hey André.” He greeted.

“Ah yes Adrien! I see you brought a girl! Would you like one to share with the lucky lady?” He asked while preparing his scoops.

“Yes please.” Adrien was curious what flavors he would get. He hoped it’d be something Marinette would like.

“Hmm... blackberry and peppermint. An explosive mix and thats a fact! But oftentimes it’s the opposites that attract." He said adding the flavors onto a cone. “What do you think?” He handed Adrien the ice cream.

“Perfect.” Adrien said, almost breathless. “Thank you so much André have a good night.” After paying him Adrien turned to Marinette.

She was sitting on a bench looking at some birds fight over bread. The sun was setting right behind her and it lit her up in the most beautiful way.

Adrien took out his phone to take a picture and just as he clicked it Marinette turned toward him. She had a soft look in her eyes that made the picture come out perfectly.

“Bring the ice cream over stalker.” She said with a giggle.

“Oh I thought you didn’t want it.” Adrien said teasingly as he took a large bite while the ice cream was still out of her grasps.

“Adriennnn.” She whined, and again Adrien caved.

“Oh fine.”

And they shared the ice cream walking home. And although both got sticky fingers and mouths from the melting mess, they wouldn’t have had it any other way.

—————————

“So what’s the plan now?” Adrien asked as they entered Marinette’s room. “I’ve never been to any sleepovers before so you’ll have to guide me.” He walked over to the chaise and sat down.

“Hold on I’m gonna grab some things.” She said rifling through the trunk at the foot of the lounge.

She ended up grabbing out a deck of Uno cards and Monopoly.

“The biggest tests of friendship known to mankind.” She brandished the boxes with a smirk. “So which one first?”

Marinette spent almost an hour trying to get a smooth game of Uno going but Adrien was pitiful. She almost felt bad for how hard he was getting beat. Almost.

After about 5 minutes of explaining Monopoly she gave up.

“You know what? Maybe this is for another time when we aren’t so tired from a day of excitement.” She said packing up the games. “Ultimate Mega Strike?”

“Oh I thought you’d never ask.” Adrien replied, bouncing up and down with anticipation.

“Wow I’ve never seen someone so excited to meet their doom.” Marinette smirked while turning on the TV and game.

“I could play circles around you any day, bug.”

“Then lets test it.” She challenged. “First to 10 wins picks the movie or show we watch after.”

“You’re so on.”

—————————

Adrien lost. Adrien lost bad.

Turns out what Marinette wants, Marinette gets. And what she really wanted was to rub that smug smile off of Adrien’s face.

Now there he sat with his jaw dropped.

“No way I only won one.” He stared in shock at the losing screen.

“Aww its okay Adrien.” She said condescendingly. “Since its your first sleepover you can still pick. Its only right.”

“I’m going to choose because I want to not only because you said I can you know.” Adrien said with scowl on his face and his arms crossed.

“Right.” Marinette let out a small fond laugh. “Im going to grab some blankets and change into my pjs downstairs. You change in here and I’ll knock before I come back. Cool?”

“Mari can we build a fort?” Adrien asked with childlike innocence just radiating off of him.

“Of course we can kitty.”

————————————

They stayed up until the early morning hours that night, building forts, watching anime, and talking.

Adrien took dozens of pictures to remember the moments because he swears its the most magical think he has ever experienced.

The next morning, Adrien awoke with a sleeping Marinette across from him. Her hair was sticking out in odd places. He could see her rise and fall with each breathe. He could hear her soft snores.

As he admired her, she opened her eyes and looked into his. He blushed, embarrassed for being caught staring.

Then in a whisper she said, “Are you a cuddler?”

Adrien nodded with wide eyes and a red face.

She then proceeded to move closer and lay her head on her chest. Adrien instinctively put his arms around her.

“Can we stay here a while longer?” She asked in the same whispered voice.

“Please.” Adrien whispered back.

If teenage rebellion always felt this good, he never wanted to stop.

End notes- Thinking of making a second part where Adrien tells Mari how he feels or where I actually write out the fort scene. Let me know which one you’d prefer and what you thought of the fic in the replies!

@adrinetteapril

[honeylikewords]

uneasy lies the head (poe dameron)

In the wake of her passing, the official, if somewhat symbolic, royal title of Alderaan has passed to from Leia Organa to her chosen heir, Poe Dameron. Along with his elected position as the Galactic Senate Represenative for his home planet, Yavin V, Poe is now burdened with the responsibility of a political office he never imagined holding, and is called to attend a summit of the galaxy’s leaders that will be held aboard the Starcruiser Halcyon. 

This piece is based on a few things: one, me liking the idea of Prince of Alderaan Poe, two, my interest in Begrudging Politician Poe, and three, the new details that have come out about the real-life Halcyon experience that will be opening up at Disney World in Florida, which you can read more about here! I’ve been really excited about it for a long time, and just thought it’d be fun to tie one of my favorite characters in to this amazing new experience that will be coming soon! 

(Content Warnings: mentions of Leia’s de@th, some slightly risque flirting between Poe and his wife, and a little bit of making out, but that’s about it! Word count is 5k.)

Poe stands in front of the mirror, anxiously adjusting the epaulets of his tunic. They don’t seem to sit right on his shoulders, he thinks, passing a hand through their silvery fringe and watching them brush the snow-white fabric of his sleeves. This isn’t his kind of uniform, and when he looks at himself, he sees more a child wearing the spoils of a raid on their parent’s closet than the Senate representative he was meant to be. He tries tightening the high, pale collar of his tunic against his throat, swallowing thickly and watching his Adam’s apple bob beneath the colorless fabric. That didn’t help much dignify the image, he thinks, eyeing himself morosely.

He looks older. His beard is fuller, having let it grow out to appear more… wise, he supposes, and the grey streaks running through it match the ones appearing more and more every day at his temples. His tan fingers tease lightly at the end of his beard, trying to stroke it like he’d seen other, more senior politicians do when lost in thought (or at least trying to come across like they were). It makes him look pretentious.

Sighing loudly, he slumps his taut shoulders and rolls them a few times to loosen the aching muscles. He turns away from the mirror and steps out of the dressing room, entering the stateroom and collapsing onto the edge of the bed, his face in his hands. He hears a door hiss open and looks between his fingers at the emerging figure.

She’s still fidgeting with her hair, which is now lifted from its former looseness into a series of intricate looping braids. Letting out a huff, she takes her hands away, seemingly having resigned herself to leaving the hair as it was. Poe lifts his head a little, resting his chin on his palm as he watches her pat her dress and check the mirror in the dressing room, just as he’d been doing mere moments before.

She looks much, much better than he does. It’s an objective fact. Her air is stately and refined, with her gown framing her regally. The fabric is a delicate, pale blue, trimmed with fine threads of gold that interweave and flow, like braided ivies, trailing up her waist in a way that guides Poe’s wandering eyes to the loveliness of her figure. She seems to belong better to this world, with its mannerisms and socialites, its political politenesses. He never had the patience to be so diplomatic, even though that is his job, now.

He watches her pull a face at herself in the mirror, frowning at some flaw he’s oblivious to, and he stands up, coming to her side and placing his hands on the small of her waist, leaning his head on her shoulder and kissing her cheek amiably.

“You look like a princess,” he purrs, hoping his flattery will encourage her confidence. He hates seeing her unhappy with herself.

“I wish,” she responds, voice tinged with something wan and far away. “I… I really do wish.”

He knows what she’s thinking about: he’d been thinking about it, too. Dropping the air of adulation, Poe reaches for her hand and gently knits their fingers together, pressing their locked hands softly against her belly for reassurance. He meets her eyes in the mirror, and the two share expressions of loss.

“I miss her, too,” he murmurs. “I don’t feel like… like I can do what she did. What she left for me to do.”

He feels his wife squeeze his hand intently, causing him to lift his head up and meet her gaze as she turns to look at him, unfiltered by the mirror. Her eyes, clear and sharp, stare at him as she nods, then kisses his forehead warmly, taking her free hand and brushing it softly across his cheek.

“She chose you for a reason,” she whispers, soft and sincere, just like she always does. “Leia left you her seat and title because you’re the only person fit for the job. She trusted you.”

Her hand dips to his jaw and she lifts his head up from its morose slump. He cannot look away from her, even if he wanted to.

“I trust you, too.”

Poe takes in all the angles of his wife’s face, knowing that no single word of what she said was untrue, but searching for the possibility of a lie anyway in some small giveaway of her expression; after all, how could he be the one fit to carry on in the shadow of his predecessor? How could his shoulders carry the burden of her greatness, much less improve upon it? But there, in her eyes, Poe sees the truth, reflected over and over again: he was chosen for this job, chosen to carry on a legacy he had no option but to strengthen. He is the only one who could, whether he believes it or not.

He straightens his back a little, standing up taller,  and squeezes his wife’s hand in silent thanks, taking a moment to press their foreheads together and breathe in the scent of her. She is wearing perfume-- something they’d never had access to during the scarcity of the war-- and he marvels at how something so small changes the entire atmosphere of her presence. She truly embodies the grace and elegance of the woman who came before both of them, looking every inch the part of an Alderaanian royal.

Glancing back at himself in the mirror, Poe huffs; while she may look, indeed, just the way Leia would want the nation to be represented, Poe does not. He looks stuffy in his garb, at times like an old man in the too-tight clothes of his youth, and, at others, like a scrawny teenager in the baggy trappings of someone he was only pretending to be. She seems to sense his dismay, as she takes the initiative to comfort him, this time.

“You look dashing,” she smiles, adjusting his lapels and the ribbons of decoration on his chest. “Prince Poe Dameron, Senate Representative of Alderaan and Yavin IV. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”

At that, Poe lets out a playful, exasperated huff, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll be great,” he grimaces, eyeing his form in the mirror. He raises his voice into a mocking lilt, swaying his head from side to side in an intentionally cartoonish parody of a stuffy bureaucrat. “Oh, Senator Y’Barra, your engagement commission is most dreadful! Shall we discuss its heinousness over tea and crescent crumpets? Garcon, we need more gold-dusted butter for our scones if we are ever to pass this bill!”

She covers her mouth to hide the beginnings of a smile and tries to reprimand Poe, affectionately slapping his chest.

“It’s nice that we’ve been asked to attend the summit, Poe. At least try to make some--”

“Don’t say friends,” he groans. “I don’t want to make friends with these people. They’re politicians; they don’t want to do anything other than profit, and post-war reconstruction is a hell of a time to make money for slime bags like these people.”

That seems to take her back for a moment, and Poe watches her expression shift as she sorts through her thoughts, her lips pursed, eyebrows arched. She then shrugs and nods, acquiescing.

“Probably. But there are probably also people like you: people whose service in the war and dedication to their people, all across this galaxy, led them to this job. People who just want to rebuild. Do better. You’ll find them, dear: you’re an excellent judge of character.”

She taps her fingers against his nose playfully.

“After all, you picked me, didn’t you?”

“If I remember correctly,” Poe teases, lowering his eyes to her lips and smirking, “You were the one to get a crush on me first. All butterflies and nerves anytime I so much as passed you in the halls. More like you picked me, huh?”

Poe catches her face take on the familiar cues of embarrassment and flustering; he can just tell he’s got her all a-twitter, and she pouts her lips, looking down at her shoes shyly as he starts to chuckle. It’s adorable to remember how flighty and skittish she was in those early days, and how enamored of her he himself was, and remains. Getting her all shy like this is a sweet harkening back to that early, giddy tension, and he dips his face down, hovering his lips just above hers, feeling her draw in a breath of neediness and--

“Senator Dameron,” a robotic voice announces through the commlink in the stateroom, freezing Poe in place. “The ferry is beginning docking procedures with the Halcyon. Please proceed to the boarding area. A droid will be sent to collect your luggage as you leave.”

“Ah, shit,” he growls. He’d completely lost track of time.

Dodging back out into the stateroom, Poe glances out the window and sees the looming mass of a gigantic starcruiser, a sharp body of glimmering steel and inky black portholes contrasted against the star field behind it. It is massive-- far larger than any ship Poe had personally piloted in the past-- and spans more than the distance his window could afford a view of. They are extremely close, and within minutes will be aboard the behemoth, where Poe will have to eat, sleep, and breathe senatorial and princely dignity.

He turns away from the window to see his wife making sure everything was packed and prepared for departure, checking the bathroom and dressing room before giving him a confirming nod: everything is where it needs to be. They are ready to go.

They walk towards each other and Poe places his hands on his wife’s arms, stroking up and down the bareness of her shoulders to steady himself. As he feels the warmth of her skin beneath his rough palms, Poe blinks with awareness and gives her a quick squeeze, darting off to the dressing room. He opens a trunk and lifts up the topmost layer of fabric, running back into the stateroom with it carefully laid across both his forearms, then turns his wife to face him and gently lays the upper corners of the fabric on each of her shoulders.

“The cloak,” he mumbles as he fastens the pale silver silk around her neck, “Don’t wanna forget that. A princess is set apart by garments like that.”

“Right,” she hums, admiring his hands as he fusses with her collar. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember that since you’re the prince, now, and I married you, I’m the--”

“Princess, yep,” grins Poe. “Princess Dameron.”

“By marriage only,” she teases.

“And I’m only the prince because she left an essentially honorary title to me,” Poe wits back. “But it suits you, at least.”

“You think?”

“Mm. Now, I think the prince owes his princess one of the tenets of royal responsibility: unadulterated affection towards one’s spouse.”

“Is that a tenet of your responsibilities?,” she smiles, brow cocked.

“I just made it up, but I like to think so.”

Once again, Poe presses his palms against the soft curves of her upper arms, squeezing in the grounding manner he knows she likes, tracing his thumbs along the creamily-smooth fabric now covering her, and he leans in close, admiring how the light shifts against her skin as his shadow draws nearer. He parts his lips, ready to feel the gentle swell of her soft ones against his, when, as if by divine interruption, the hydraulic hiss of the stateroom’s door fills the room and a silver-plated protocol droid peers at him through the now-open door. He grits his teeth to resist letting out a completely undignified expletive aimed at the droid and stares at it pointedly, trying to silently communicate that it had interrupted a private moment.

“It is time to board the Halcyon, Senator,” it chimes in the lilting manner all protocol droids seem to have, seemingly blissfully unaware of his frustration. “Please, come with me to the boarding area.”

Behind the protocol droid, a cargo lifter droid rolls by, seemingly waiting until Poe and his wife leave the cabin to enter. Poe sighs, but can’t resist letting a small chuckle out: both droids, despite their different purposes, both seem polite, in their own sorts of ways, and he always finds that endearing.

Looking to his wife, Poe gives a little bemused half-smile and shrugs his shoulders, as if apologetic but resigned. She takes his hand and turns, nodding to both droids with an impassive but gracious expression, one that Poe notes is more than befitting of an official such as herself. Distanced, but not dour, regal, but not recalcitrant. He loves it.

“Thank you,” she says, coolly polite. “Please, lead the way.”

The protocol droid begins its stiff-jointed hobble towards the boarding area and Poe and his wife trail behind, arms linked at the elbow as Poe fidgets with her fingers. He twiddles her marriage band as they walk, always comforted by the feel of it on her hand. He admires it as they silently proceed; it’s somewhat rough-hewn, made from hammered durasteel, a little uneven and dented in some places from the haste in which it was made, and Poe loves it.

He loves how it contrasts the delicate, fragile jewelry common amongst royals, how it’s not meant to glitter and shine and grab attention, how it ties her to him and he to her, with no regard for image or pomp. It is heavy and solid and made purely for the sake of love and belonging, and she wears it everywhere she goes with pride, as if it was the finest-cut Oshiran sapphire, or the most carefully sculpted gold. It is one of the crown jewels of Alderaan, now, and the thought of it-- of his parent’s simple, quickly-made wedding ring, forged in a time of war, without promise of any moment past the one they were in, now being a royal regalia-- makes his heart ache to bursting with unadulterated love.

Poe tugs her hand up and kisses her knuckles as they finally round the corner into the boarding area; somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers the droid saying something about how their luggage will be sent directly to their stateroom aboard the Halcyon, but he’s hardly listening. He’s looking at his wife, his rock, his tether, as they begin their socialite dance, seeking steadfast comfort in her as he prepares to have to play his part in a world he was never born to be in.

The droid gestures to a corridor formed between the two ships: passengers traipse from the shuttle onto the boarding area of the Halcyon, representatives from a myriad of species in a breadth of costumes and liveries. Poe and his wife exchange glances, knowing that these people will have some hand in forming what comes next in the political landscape of the galaxy, and that they, too, will be instrumental in forging the new governments of the rising Republic.

“Come on,” she smiles, trying to coax him along, tugging his hand and taking a step forward, “It’s gonna be fine. It’s not like my flyboy to get cold feet, hm?”

Poe chuckles and shakes his head, trying to dislodge his clouding worries, and walks in time with his wife, joining the throngs of senators and royals and presidents and diplomats making their way aboard the Halcyon. Some of them exchange pleasantries, others are locked in conversations: some even look at Poe and his wife and nod in acknowledgement, or turn to their compatriots and whisper.

Poe feels an embarrassed heat creep up the base of his neck; he knows rumors have circulated about his particularly unusual position as a representative for a dead planet and a living one, and about how he’d been named the next in line for a royal title he was not born into. He tries not to let it get to him-- let people think that they think, and do your job, Leia had always told him-- but the feeling of alienation and disbelonging hangs over him, shaming him into silence. He tenses, and keeps his eyes fixed forward, which grants him an ever-nearing view of the grand foyer of the massive starcruiser.

The Halcyon is unlike any other ship Poe has ever been on. He’d heard about starcruisers like this, meant to be enormous cruise ships travelling in luxury and style from one planet to another, filled with sprawling cabins and indulgent amenities, and had never even pictured himself aboard one. The thought hardly appealed to him: days, weeks, even, of doing nothing? Just wandering aimlessly around, decadent and opulent in one’s revelry? The mere idea disgusts him. Still, as he steps into the expansive entry for the Halcyon, he finds himself feeling something other than disgust: he feels strangely at home.

The area is bustling as ship workers and bellhops collect luggage and transfer it to droids, as greeters guide guests to check in areas and hand them keycards, as officers check passports and documentation against databases, all lit under the glow of thousands of lights, which reflect off polished durasteel and marble surfaces. Holo projections provide information about travel destinations and the cruise itself in hundreds of different tongues, while a massive projection of the captain glows a familiar blue and greets the boarding politicians.

Poe turns in awe, gazing at the dozens of porthole windows affording views of distant and nearby star clusters, at the navigational crew high above, checking maps and charting courses, and takes a deep, steadying breath in through his nose, squeezing his wife’s hand tight. The hum and thrall of the ship, with its thousands of moving parts and requisite workers, feels exactly like all the ships he’d served on during the Rebellion. He half-believes that if he closes his eyes and turns around, he’ll open them and see Leia there, giving orders and directing the workflow.

The memory sits on his heart, but instead of a heavy, lingering pain, it kindles a warm, growing fire: she lives on in him. She would be proud to see him carrying on the mantle, working to do what no one else has the skill, speech, or stones to do. She is never really gone. Never can be.

Instilled with strength and purpose, Poe looks to his wife, who is staring at the gargantuan hub of activity before her, almost taken aback by how bustling it is. He leans down and gently pecks her cheek, tugging her along and breaking her out of her trance. They’ve got places to be, things to do, royal engagements to avoid, after all. As they begin to move closer to what Poe believes is the reception desk, a Twi’lek in a sleek, almost military-looking white uniform steps in front of Poe and his wife, grinning from green ear to ear.

“Senator Dameron, Princess Dameron,” she greets, bowing at the waist respectfully, “I am Lyna’ame, and I’ll be directing you regarding your stay on the Halcyon. Thank you for honoring us with your patronage.”

“Uh, thank you for having us,” Poe stammers, unsure of how to conduct himself in such a position.

Lyna’ame looks up at him with a quizzical eye, but seems too well-trained to respond with anything more than a polite smile and a nod. She produces from the pocket of her grey-trimmed suit a pair of infochips, extending them towards Poe and his wife.

“You will be staying in the royal suite on Deck B, unit number eighteen,” Lyna’ame smiles. “These chips will act as your keys to the room and to any amenities you should wish to access, and will remind you of upcoming engagements or conferences you should be in attendance of.”

As if on cue, the small screens on the infochips light up and read “19:00: Senatorial Dinner In Ballroom One!” Poe blinks at it, then flashes Twi’lek a cordial but slightly cold smile, taking the chips from her hand and tucking them unceremoniously into his breast pocket.

“Alright, thanks. I think we can get it from here.”

She seems not to register his attempt to tie off the loop of the conversation, continuing anyway.

“You will also have access to all the facilities of the ship, including the swimming areas, dining areas, lounges, bars, activity centres, spas and--”

“I’ll check the brochure in the room,” Poe smiles, searching for an exit. “I appreciate it, but, uh, my wife is very tired--” --Poe nudges her with an elbow and she balks, then understands his intention and mimes a yawn, nodding sympathetically-- “--And I’d love to get her some rest before any hobnobbing, y’know?”

“Of course, your highness,” Lyna’ame says, again accompanied by a civil bow. “The elevators are to the left. Press your infochip to the pad and it will take you to your floor. Your luggage should already be in your room, and please,” she smiles. “Enjoy your cruise.”

Poe bows back, then leads his wife by the elbow to the elevators, where they tap their key card and the doors hiss open. As they board, just the two of them, Poe’s wife turns to face him and raises one eyebrow, haughty.

“Really threw me under the bus there, Poe,” she smirks. “‘Oh, my wife wants to leave this conversation because my wife is awkward and doesn’t know how to handle subordinate behavior from service workers’. Real nice.”

Rolling his eyes, Poe can’t help but smile, and instead of replying, drops his hand to the small of his wife’s back, grazing his fingers there for a moment before dipping slightly lower and--

She jumps, then giggles, hitting him with a shocked but not at all displeased expression.

“Did you just pinch my ass?”

“Maybe,” he smiles. “Why?”

“You just seemed so…” She touches his arm, searching for the right word, chewing her lip thoughtfully. “Severe, before. Lost.”

“Feeling better. Feeling… like I can do this, maybe. Or at least do what I need to do, even if it doesn’t look exactly like how everybody else might expect me to.”

At that she purses her lips and nods, and he can tell she’s happy for him: he’s not entirely out of the woods about this whole ‘galactic representative’ thing, and certainly not used to all the expectations that come with being the heavy head that wears the crown, but he’s going to be alright. At least, he feels like he is, at this moment, and that’s all that matters.

Poe finds himself allowing his smile to grow wider as he dips down and nuzzles her temple, teasing his lips over her ear, tempting and toying.

“I still hate the suit,” he whispers, sending her shivering, “And I don’t want to talk to these people like we’re all buddy-buddy--”

“--Acknowledged, Senator,” she teases, rubbing his arm in the way that lets him know she’s itching to get more handsy.

“But we’re gonna have a private room,” he continues, “And a lock on the door, and at least--” --He checks the infocard, which reads “17:05”-- “--About two hours before anybody’s gonna need us, so I say we shimmy out of these nice duds…”

Poe’s finger trails down the silky rivulets of her collarbones; he has to admit, he does find her massively attractive in this royal robing, but he figures it’ll be less hassle for both of them to assure he doesn’t get too rowdy while they’re wearing some of the best (and irreplaceably expensive) fineries in the galaxy, so he’ll have to bid her pretty little dress and luxurious cape adieu for their stateroom rendezvous. Not that he minds: the dress might be pretty, but the woman underneath is ten times more so. Besides, she can always put it back on again for the dinner, anyway.

“We go see what kind of minibar we’re looking at,” Poe teases, watching her roll her eyes, “Hop in the bath, and see where those two hours take us.”

“Mm, we’ll see,” she demures, patting his chest. He knows she likes to dance around it, never say anything too scandalous where someone else can hear, and he loves that; she extends the tension, making him wait for what he wants. He may not ever have been a patient man before, but she forces him to slow down, savor it, work for it. And that’s delicious.

The elevator doors slide open as Poe leads his wife out into the hall, kissing her jaw as he checks the suite numbers. They shuffle along, exchanging little pecks and touches in the graciously empty hallway (what would the other representatives think, she reminds him in a hushed tone as they pass rooms, if they saw the new prince of Alderaan and Senator for Yavin V hanging off his wife like a pubescent teen?) before arriving at suite eighteen. Poe fumbles in his breast pocket, keeping his lips planted on his wife’s neck, then slaps the infochip haphazardly against the door. It clicks open, and Poe doesn’t even bother to look inside: he just coaxes his wife in, and tumbles in after her.

The lights in the room slowly turn on automatically, rising from a low dim to a sunny brightness, illuminating white-panelled walls and a lush, wide bed, all the furniture sharply clean and sleekly modern, trimmed in shades of black and silver. A massive window shows the endless expanse of space beyond the double-layered transparisteel, and while Poe would normally be more inquisitive and peek around the room to admire it, he’s more than occupied as he pushes his face deeper in the warm, scented crook of his wife’s neck.

“Careful,” she warns as his hand starts to pet at the base of her head, eking dangerously close to the beginnings of her hair roots, “These braids took me hours. I don’t want to have to re-do them, Dameron”

“I get that,” he breathes heavily, “But you look really hot with messy hair and--”

“If we’re going to go to that dinner, I’m not going to go with my hair flying everywhere! I’ll look like a… well, you know!”

“Like a woman well-loved by her husband,” Poe teases, nipping at her jaw. “But, fine, we’ll skip the dinner, and I’ll just keep you all to myself. Nobody else has to see. In fact, I’d prefer they didn’t.”

His eyes glimmer with wolfish promise as he sets his wife down on the edge of the white-blanketed bed, staring at her as her skirts form pools of silver and blue. He’s serious: the summit dinner all but disappears from his mind as he looks at her; how beautiful she is. How elegant. So poised and pretty and his, all his, to love until all the suns swallow themselves and burn out. All these representatives won’t miss him at one measly, lousy dinner, right? Not when he has the love of his life to attend to, surely.

“What’s gotten into you?,” she giggles, kicking off one of her sophisticated shoes as she sits on the bed. “You’re acting like we’re on our honeymoon!”

Poe leans in and places his hands on either side of her hips, bumping his forehead to hers as he takes long, weighty breaths, feeling the heat radiate off of her.

“I just… This is a lot, right?”

“Mm,” she acquiesces.

“And you’re kind of… what I go back to when I’m in too deep. So, right now, all this summit stuff and the Senate and the council? I need that to take a backseat to me being with you. The person I love. And letting that be what guides me in what I need to do for… everybody else.”

She lets out a soft, appreciative “aw”, her eyes softening as she cups his cheek, and Poe leans into her hand, allowing a little lasciviousness to leak into his smile as he stares down at her.

“Plus, it’s kinda… you know, a little sexy, being somewhere so new and ritzy. I’m not used to this kind of stuff. That, and we barely got a honeymoon, if you remember--”

“Yeah,” she recalls, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose, clearly vexed by the memory, “I remember. The day after we got married, that First Order outpost tried to open fire and you were up and out of bed and back in deployment after less than twenty four hours of being a married man.”

“Duty never sleeps,” he shrugs. “But… We can make up for lost time here, on this big, shiny, fancy-ass ship, huh?”

Poe wiggles his eyebrows with playfully rapacious intent, sending his wife into a fit of good-natured laughs. He adores when she laughs; it sends his heart racing, every inch of him alight with the joy of knowing that her smiles are because of him, the sound of her voice bouncing up and down with glee all caused by some silly little thing he’s said or done. Unable to contain himself, Poe leans down and kisses her, cutting off the sounds of her laughter, a deep, satisfied groan emanating from his chest.

“God,” he rumbles as they part for a quick breath, “I haven’t gotten to do that all damn day.”

“It did feel really good,” she sighs, clasping her arms around his neck. She seems to take pause, etching his face into her memory with her eyes, then comes to a decision: Poe would recognize that resolute gleam in her expression anywhere. “Alright, we’re staying.”

“...You mean it?,” he chirps.

“Yep. You tell them your poor, defenseless wife is laid up ill and needs your constant and most doting attention,” she smiles, kissing the tip of his nose. “Then when you’re done calling the front desk, you come over here and you help me get out of this dress and into that bath you promised.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles, then catches himself. “I mean, yes, Princess.”

“Mm,” she beams, teasing him with a pinch on the thigh. “Much better.”

They share another deep, drawn-out kiss before Poe manages to wrest himself away from her and off to the side of the room with the comm built into the wall, but glances over at her as he taps at the screen to connect with the front desk. She grins coyly from the bed, kicking one leg out in a pseudo-sultry, semi-silly way from beneath her sumptuous gown. Poe can’t help but feel a swell of endearment.

As the call connects, Poe sighs dreamily to himself; if all else failed, at least he had her, and with her by his side, he was definitely going to enjoy a very, very pleasurable cruise.

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 11

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - ... Art (can’t stop me… #obsessed)

Ok, so this is a very long update, but I didn’t want to cut ANY of it. But I really hope you will enjoy. Also, I think there will be 13/14 parts. Not 12. The boys are apparently not done with me yet!! And Morgana MAY have highjacked herself another chapter.

Also, also... I’m sorry about the end.

Comments and Reblogs give me life! The next part is already mostly written out, so if I have enjoy interest I’ll post it early. Want to commission your own piece? DM me for details! Check out my Masterlist above for more of my inane/insane ramblings, and please feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there!

I have an Alternative 10 page Part 11 that Immediately follows the events of last chapter available for purchase on BuyMeACoffee (which you can access through my Masterlist). There are only 10 copies available right now, so get them before they are gone. OH! And did I mention its NSFW? That piece is set in an alternative timeline, where Grier and Nikostratus.... well, I guess you’d just have to buy it to see. However, it is not a canon part of this story. Just an alternative spin the story could have taken.

All the best!

“Niko, Niko, Niko, NIKO!” Morgan half-sang, half shouted, punctuating each repetition of my name with a bounce on the bed. “Niko! NIKO!”

I sighed groggily, cracking open an eye and looking over at her. She reached across the bed, placing both hands on my shoulder and giving me a solid shake.

“Niko! The sun’s finally up!” She declared, then crawled closer to better shake me. “It’s morning! I slept! Can I go explore the castle now?” I started to yawn, and she bounced up and down impatiently. “Come ON, Niko! Get up!! Get up!”

“Alright, alright, little chickadee. I’m up.” I yawned again. “I’m up.”

I rubbed a hand across my face, slowly tugging myself into a sitting position. My whole body felt heavy and drained, as if I had spent the previous day climbing a mountain. It took me longer than usual to shake the grogginess from my head, and I lingered with my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. The sun’s rays were slowly filtering in through the large windows beside the bed. Reaching sparkling tendrils of light towards us. Seeing that I was officially awake, Morgana bounded from the bed and skittered barefoot across the floor over to the clear glass. I swore she was almost vibrating with excitement, and pressed her face against it to peer out.

“Can we go outside? Are goblins awake during the day, or are they only up at night? Are there a lot of goblins?” She gushed, dancing from foot to foot before running back to the bed.

I ran my hand over the back of my head, then down to my neck, stretching my sore muscles, nodding slowly. “We can go outside, I’m sure. Goblins sleep at night too. And yes, there’s a lot of them.”

She tugged at my wrist as I swung my legs out of the bed, and I stood at her insistence. “What do you do all day? Do you run the city? Do you hold audiences?”

“I train with the General in the mornings.” I told her, stretching again now that I was standing. “And the King has been letting me shadow him, so I can learn more about the Kingdom. And I’ve been learning goblinese.” I tugged a fresh tunic over my head.

“Goblinese??”

I nodded, noticing a trunk in the foyer and guessing that some of the attendants must have brought it in last night while we were distracted. I padded my way over and started picking through her clothes before tossing her a fresh dress.

“That’s what goblins speak. Not all of them know Common.”

“Can I learn goblinese?” She asked eagerly.

I shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Wash up and get dressed.”

There was a knock as I directed her to the bathing room. I closed the door behind her, leaving it propped a tiny crack, before I headed back to the foyer to the one leading out to the hall. My heart skipped as a memory of soft green lips came unbidden to my mind. I quickly reminded myself that Grier would never be up this early, unless he had simply never gone to bed the day before. And cool beads of dread dripped down the back of my neck as I remembered what he had said…. “But I would like to speak more about… …. About everything.”  Everything. What was... everything? I swallowed hard, brushing the notion from my head as best I could.

Still, my hand shook a little as I tugged the door open. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed that Seoc stood in the hall instead. He offered me a quick bow.

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

“Good morning, Seoc,” I replied cordially, nodding to him and hiding my nervousness well, “I hope everything is alright?”

He smiled up at me. “Of course, Your Highness. My apologies for the intrusion.” He dipped his head lightly again. “General Damjan sent word. He is curious if you will still be joining him his morning.”

I considered that, glancing over as the door to the bathing room opened. Morgana scuttled over, freshly dressed and eyes curious, quickly tucking herself at my side and peeking around the door. Seoc’s own eyes dropped to her, and he gave a friendly smile, bowing lightly.

“Princess.” He greeted her cheerily.

She looked between me and him, then tugged on my shirt subtly. I supposed she might be surprised. Wondering who Seoc was to be speaking to her without having first been spoken to. Not that she minded, I knew. Likely she was estatic. She just didn’t know how to react to it. I was again reminded how different customs were between the two kingdoms. I instinctually dropped a hand to her shoulder, reassuring her as she shifted from foot to foot.

“I assume the King is not up yet?” I asked him, trying to sound as matter-of-fact as possible.

He hid a small smirk, as if amused by the thought of the King being up at any decent morning hour. “Not yet, Your Highness.” He cocked his head to the side and his big ears flopped. I saw Morgana’s eyes widen with delight. “Would you like me to have breakfast brought up for you?”

“What do you think then, Princess?” I mused, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Would you like to go to the training grounds with me? Or are you hungry?”

She looked between me and Seoc again for another quiet moment, her eyes still wide with wonder. “... I could go with you?” She asked timidly, her voice softer than usual, “Do you fight with the goblins?”

“Of course, you can. And we spar; only for training and exercise purposes.” I assured her. Then nodded to Seoc. “Perhaps the General would be willing to show the Princess and I around the grounds? In lieu of our usual match.”

“I can send word, Your Highness, if you would give me a moment.” He replied. “Then I can escort you down if you wish.” The goblin tilted his head to the side. “I am certain the King would enjoy sharing breakfast with you as well. Shall I let Lord Hibik know to inform us when he wakes?”

I stiffened a little, then gave a curt nod. “That is an excellent suggestion, Seoc... Let me fetch my boots while you send word, yes?”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

A few minutes later we were off to meet Damjan. Morgana shyly hid in my shadow, tugging on my sleeve and whispering things to me. Despite that, and the innate joy I felt just to have her at my side, I couldn’t help but linger on what came later on after our tour…

….

Seoc bowed as he opened the door for us, stepping to the side to allow us to enter. Morgana kept a step behind me, alternating between peeking around my legs and hiding herself there. I knew it must be strange for her; she had been taught to stifle her curiosity and told to sit still for as long as she could remember, save with me. Surrounded by statues, and not allowed to ask questions or speak. Ignored, for the most part, as most children at Court were. But here, everyone smiled at her. Everyone greeted her, and when she forgot herself for a moment and asked a question, they were always eager to answer. She had never perfected her composure and mask as I had; but I still saw her struggle a little, as she tried to determine what was expected of her. It made my heart ache to see, and I was glad to have taken her as far away from that place as I could.

The small sitting room we entered was well lit, with a small crackling fire before the couch and armchairs sat before the knee-high dark wood table. I saw Morgana’s eyes skitter about, considering the cluttered décor and bright colors. My eyes settled much more quickly on the room’s occupants.

Grier sat on one end of the couch, shuffling grumpily through a few papers Hibik offered him. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I felt that he looked a fair bit more tired than usual, with dark circles around his eyes. At the sound of the door, his gaze flicked up. Meeting mine. My heart skipped and I resisted the urge swallow. Especially as those thin lips split into a small, wry smile.

“Ah, my favorite pair of royal siblings.” He exclaimed, glancing back at the papers once more before passing them to Hibik with a nod. “I trust you slept well?”

Morgana peeked around my leg curiously, and he offered her a smile. As he seemed to be speaking directly to her, she bowed her head lightly. “Good morning, Your Majesty. Thank you for your inquiry.” She replied formally.

Grier cocked one brow, standing slowly and waving Hibik out the door. “My, but the family resemblance is strong.” He replied dourly, tilting his head to the side. “There’s no need for that, Princess. You may always speak freely around me.”

Morgana glanced up at me, surprised and a little curious. I pushed her hair back out of her face, the corners of my mouth twitching. But I gave her a small nod, and she looked back at the King.

“... I can still call you ‘Grier’?” She asked shyly.

His smile returned. “Of course! I hope I can still call you ‘Morgana’, yes? And you can still ask me questions.” He beckoned us both deeper into the room. “Perhaps you can even help me convince Nikostratus to do so as well.” He told her with a wink.

A tiny smile lit her own lips as a flush prickled my cheeks at his words, and she glanced at me only once more before walking around to sit in one of the armchairs beside the table. I followed behind, pretending not to notice the goblin’s eyes following me as I did. I settled on the couch, and tried not to stiffen as he settled back in the seat at the opposite end. The couch was not nearly so long; his knees could almost brush mine when he turned to the side, as he did now. He reached out, flipping a cup and pouring some coffee into it. I peeked at him through my lashes as he offered it to me. Forcing myself not to quiver as our fingers brushed together when I took it from him.

“Please, help yourselves.” He told us, though his eyes never left mine. “I am sure you are hungry.”

“Thank you.” I replied softly, my voice barely above a murmur. I ran my thumb along the edge of my drink, but then raised it to take a slow sip. I wondered what he was thinking. I tried to look at him from the corners of my eyes, wondering if he would want to talk immediately. Or if I would have to suffer the dread of waiting even longer. It had been all I could think about for the previous few hours. I couldn’t fathom having whatever pending conversation he had planned in front of my sister, but couldn’t tell if he would take her presence in to consideration either.

“There are no forks!” Morgana exclaimed after a moment, bringing me back to the present. I turned to find her looking over the spread, and saw her glance up nervously.

“No, I suppose there are not.” Grier replied, amused, leaning back with his own cup.

She tilted her head to the side, slowly coming out of her shell again. “... How do you eat?”

The goblin smirked, taking a sip. “With our hands.” He tilted his head back to the side. “Do humans eat with their feet?” 

Her smile grew a little at his teasing. “No. But, we don’t touch food.” She looked over at me. “...We’re not supposed to touch the food. It gets our hands messy.”

The King ‘hmm’ed softly at that. “Goblin food is meant to be eaten with your hands.” Grier told her. “I suppose it must not be as messy as yours.” 

She looked back over the spread. Then back to me.

“Go ahead.” I encouraged her. “Try some. I think you’ll like it.”

She gingerly picked up a pastry, bringing it to her mouth to sniff. After the first bite, she was hooked, and I almost smiled as she quickly scarfed down the rest and went for another. She cast another nervous glance at both of us, but whenever neither of us looked particularly upset at her manners, she took another handful. I saw her little shoulders relax a little. The goblin picked up a morsel for himself, taking a solid bite and chewing thoughtfully for a moment.

“Would you like some tea?” He offered her, gesturing to the pot. “How did you find the castle this morning? I hope you got the chance to explore a little.”

“No, thank you.” She said politely, swallowing another mouthful. “We saw the training cliffs.” She glanced at him through her lashes, and he gave her an encouraging nod. Her smile started to spread wider across her lips. “You can see the mountains from there! It’s very cold... Is it always cold here? Do goblins get cold? Do you wear fur hats?”

Grier chewed thoughtfully. “I suppose it usually is quite cold, but inside the mountain we keep it nice and toasty so we don’t notice. And of course we get cold! We aren’t dragons.” He grinned at her. “And I have a few fur hats.”

She giggled, plucking up a new item to try, sniffing at it experimentally. Her hazel eyes flicked to me as she did.

“You need to eat too, Niko.” She reminded me, before looking over at Grier. “Niko doesn’t eat much.” She explained to him. “I think he forgets he’s hungry. It’s not good for him though! He’ll make himself sick.”

I blushed slightly, starting to open my mouth to reply. To my surprise, Grier chuckled. 

“I’ve noticed that.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me at their corners. “He won’t eat if he’s nervous… or flustered.” I felt my blush deepen as the goblin leaned forward, calling my sister’s attention to a tray of pastries in the center. “Do you see these? We call these uyapik. There’s different types for every meal. But each bite is like a whole plate of food in one.” He picked one up, holding it out to her. “It has vegetables, and meat, and often cheese. All in one neat little package.”

Her eyes filled with wonder as she took it from him. She took a bite, then nodded excitedly. “Oh, this is perfect! It’s so yummy!”

Grier grinned. “Even Nikostratus can usually manage to eat one or two of these. A single uyapi should have just about everything he needs.” My eyes widened slightly with the sudden realization of why the goblin pastry had become such a prominent feature through the duration of my stay. The King’s grin turned a little coy at the corners.

“Here, Niko,” She exclaimed, popping out of her seat and grabbing one in each hand, “These are yours.”

I fumbled with my cup to make space for them in my own hands before they fell on my lap. “Chickadee, I-”

“Do you always eat with him?” She asked Grier, ignoring me. “Do you goblins have lunch and dinner too?” She drew in a sharp breath, suddenly looking a little concerned. “Do you have desert??”

Grier nodded. “I try to eat with him for every meal. And yes, we have a midday meal and an evening meal.” His grin grew. “And of course we have desert. Nothing more important than that!”

Morgana giggled, leaning against my knees behind her and looking over the table again. She picked up something that looked like a hardboiled egg, though it was freckled with green spots. She seemed to think about that for a moment. “... Do goblins have weddings, too? When are you going to get married?”

I started to sputter something, and Grier chuckled again. “Our ceremonies are different than yours, but we do have ‘weddings’, so to speak.” His scarlet eyes flicked to me, and I nearly froze in place. “And I hope soon, though we still have to plan it.”

“Can I help? Will Niko be a King afterwards? Do goblins share rooms when they are married?” She tilted her head to the side. “Will you move in with him, or will he move in with you? Is your bed big enough? Niko is very tall.”

“N-now, hold on a second, chickadee,” I started, my face hotter than a furnace, “You can’t just-”

“Niko doesn’t like talking about this stuff.” She told Grier, ignoring me, leaving me sputtering and flushing darker. “This one time, I asked him about kissing, and he-”

I clapped my free hand over her mouth, shaking my head fervently as I felt my ears catch fire from embarrassment. “I-I think that that’s quite e-enough of that.” I mumbled, reaching out to place the remaining uyapi on the table and wrap my arm about her waist to hoist her to the side. As if hiding her from his view would assure the goblin forgot her words.

Grier laughed, which only served to make my flush spread down the back of my neck. “Well, I do believe she’s asked some very good questions, my young Prince.” He teased. “Very practical, your little bird is.”

I dropped my hand with a soft shout of disgust as she licked her tongue across my palm. Before I could catch her again, she darted around the other side of the table. Giggling excitedly. I wiped my hand on my pant leg and shot her a small scowl. Which only had the goblin laughing again. I stiffened at the sound.

“I-I apologize,” I started to stammer, working hard to find some semblance of my composure once more.

The King waved it away. “No apologies necessary.” He grinned at me. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” Asked Morgana curiously, darting a little closer to his side of the table.

His grin grew. “More relaxed. And of course, flustered.” I dropped my eyes to the floor quickly, unable to meet his. “I think it makes him look very cute.”

Morgana giggled again, sneaking around the other side of the couch. She had to practically jump over the back, but managed to wrap her arms around my shoulders with her feet dangling off the ground. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye suspiciously.

“Niko! He thinks you’re cute!” She whispered conspiratorially in my ear. “You should say something nice back!”

I would have stood and attempted some excuse to bolt from the room had my sister not been currently so precariously wrapped about me. I stammered uselessly for a minute, which just made Grier laugh again and my ears burn. Could he hear her?

“Come on, Niko!” She urged. “... I know! Tell him you like his hair.”

“N-now, se-see here, you two.” I mumbled weakly, shaking my head. “Th-this… this is… Ah…”

“Perhaps we should let your brother be for a minute, yes?” Grier offered, his smirk still coyly twisted about his lips. “Elsewise he might just catch the couch on fire. Or forget how to breathe.” I felt Morgana’s arms loosen at his words, and wrung my hands nervously in front of me. “... Would you like to meet your potential Lady in Waiting now?” Grier continued, easily changing the subject. “I have a few noble ladies come to call to meet you.”

“Goblin ladies?” Morgana asked eagerly, slipping back around to the front of the couch. Her previous motives already forgotten in light of this new information.

The King chuckled. “Yes, of course. As I do believe the current population of humans in our Court is limited to this room at the moment.” He shifted in his seat. “You can meet them all, and if you like any of them, they can be your Lady.”

My sister picked up a uyapi, quickly finishing it off in two bites before picking up another pastry and stuffing that into her still chewing mouth as well. She turned back to me as she swallowed it.

“See, Niko? I ate! Can we go meet the goblins now?”

I tried to relax, swallowing hard and attempting to wrangle my swirling thoughts into some semblance of order. 

“Actually, Morgana,” Grier interrupted before I could voice whatever I had managed to compile, “Perhaps Hibik can take you to meet the young ladies.” I stiffened again, looking over at him. “They are just down the hall, and I’m not sure Nikostratus has eaten very much himself yet.” He cocked his head to the side. “Would that be alright?”

She nodded eagerly. “Oh, yeah. You’re right.” She turned back to me, pointing one scolding finger at my nose. My eyebrows shot up a little. “You need to eat. And you’d better have before I get back.” She warned.

“I beg your pardon-”

To my surprise, she then skipped in between us, picking up my hand and Grier’s. And pressed them together until they folded over each other. My mouth flapped uselessly as my face blazed.

“There.” She proclaimed, putting her hands on her hips and looking out our now entwined fingers. “That’s better.” She turned to Grier who looked a little surprised himself. “Make sure he eats, ok?”

As if on cue, Hibik opened the door with a knock, arms full of paperwork and a greeting on his lips. Morgana skipped around the couch to him.

“Lord Hibik, Grier says you’re to take me to see the goblin ladies,” She told him, and then started to dart out the door around him. “Let’s go!”

“Morgana-” I began exasperatedly, moving to stand, then froze as the King’s fingers suddenly tightened around mine.

“Hibik, if you would be so kind.” Grier instructed him, waving his free hand lightly.

His secretary looked between us, wide eyed, then quickly scrambled to close the door and follow after my sister. A few papers fluttered to the ground in his wake, forgotten in his haste.

My heart thudded in my chest and I stared numbly at the door for a long moment. Torn between Morgana no longer being in my sight and the heat slowly spreading down my neck as Grier kept our fingers firmly and stubbornly latched together. After a moment, I chanced a glance at our hands on the couch between us where she had left them.

“You know,” He finally said after an extended moment of silence, “I was originally under the impression that you were the primary caretaker for Morgana.” I straightened slightly at his words, and I could hear the grin lacing his next. “But now, I’m not entirely so sure it’s not the other way around.”

“Ah… She’s…” I mumbled, face still flaming. “She can be a bit… pushy.”

He chortled lightly. “She cares a lot about you. And I think she does an excellent job watching out for you. For a nine year old.” His voice became a little more somber suddenly. “... We spoke about you for a time, yesterday. Before you happened upon us.” I noticed him shift a little closer, and my legs tingled to stand. “... I’m afraid she might have told me a few secrets of yours after all.”

I swallowed hard, shifting in my seat. Trying to pretend I didn’t have any idea what he was talking about and still unable to meet his gaze. “O-oh?”

His thumb moved across my knuckles. “She gave me a little glimpse into your life before… all this…” The goblin slid even closer, and his other hand came up to cap ours. “... I didn’t get the impression it was a particularly happy life.”

“It’s unfortunate that she gave you that impression,” I replied after a breath, shrouding myself in a flat formality that was belittled by my unwillingness to meet his eyes, “However, I can assure you that…” I dropped off, “... That… umm…” I felt a strange numbness tingling through me, and realized I hadn’t the will to fabricate that particular lie. Especially to Grier. I glanced off to the side. “... It had its moments.”

“Most of them focused around your little bird, I would assume.”

I slipped my hand from his grasp, bringing it to clasp my other in my lap. I stared down at them for a moment. “... I-I… I am sure it is unimportant.”

“.... I was about Morgana’s age when my father died.” He told me quietly. “One day he was there and the next…” I peeked at him through my lashes, and saw him looking off at some distant spot. “... My mother ruled in his stead, and she made sure I had the freedom to… well, to be a child. To go on little adventures, and play, and have fun. She let me make friends with whomever I wanted... She didn’t hold me to adult standards of self control and etiquette. I didn’t have to make tough decisions that impacted the entire Kingdom, or be faced with those responsibilities. I didn’t even really know about them. She didn’t ask me to be a King or even a royal while I was still a kid…”

I looked at him, and my brow furrowed angrily. “I do not hold Morgana to adult standards.” I argued, my voice becoming terse. “I do not demand she sit still or quiet, nor do I lay any royal responsibilities on her shoulders-”

“I know.” He interrupted me before I could get too heated. 

As he dropped off, I tried to wrap my head around why then he had told me about his own childhood. What point he had been trying to make... And suddenly I knew it wasn’t Morgana he was talking about. A cold chill swept through me at the realization. I blinked at him stupidly, then shook my head. Looking away once more. A tense silence stretched between us for a long moment. Finally, I cleared my throat, shaking my head. Moving to speak. But nothing came out.

“I don’t mean to pry. It was just something I realized while I was speaking with your sister.” He continued, when I still hadn’t spoken. Then he sighed, and I saw his hand come up, pushing his hair back out of his face. “I’m… not sure if you would want to talk about it… but I’m here if you do.”

I chewed on my tongue for a moment, glancing over at the door. “... Talk about what, exactly?” I asked, and winced at the bitterness in my voice. “Talk about the King? Talk about... ‘all this seriousness’?” I felt a numbness spreading through my chest, and my eyes became unseeing. “...Talk about my mother? … What good would it do? Talking?” I sounded distant, even to my own ears, and painfully flat. “What does it change?” I shook my head once more, the sensation deadened by the numbness. “... I-I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it.”

He nodded quickly. “Ok…. That’s fine. I understand.” The goblin patted my knee gently. “It was callous of me to bring up… I apologize.”

Grier moved to stand, starting to withdraw his hand. I grabbed it suddenly, then winced. Releasing it almost as soon as I had, embarrassed. But he froze for a breath, before dropping back down. Sitting beside me once more. Slowly, he reached out, slipping his hand into mine. I didn’t move as he did, and stared at his fingers as he wiggled them between my own. Watched them curl around mine in my lap, felt his warmth seep into my palm. I hesitated, then slowly closed my own fingers.

“... I don’t want to talk about it... but…” I told him, my voice weak, and frayed. I hated the sound of it, and closed my mouth to trap it once more. I glanced down at our hands, and felt mine twitch in his grasp.

“I can stay.” He murmured softly, and his thumb ran back and forth over my own. “We can talk about something else…” The goblin hesitated, and I glanced at him. “... Morgana also said you went away for a while, but she didn’t know where. Only that you were… different when you came back.”

Instantly I stiffened. Remembering exactly what she had said regarding that time. My heart throbbed painfully in my chest. I started to pull my hand from his. Then… I stopped myself. Hesitating. Glancing back at our entwined fingers. My tongue felt too large for my mouth again. I felt him give my hand another gentle squeeze. I tried to take courage from it.

“... I went to the front lines.” I said, so quietly he had to lean forward to hear me.

He seemed to sense I didn’t particularly want to talk about that either. And thankfully let it be. Instead, we sat in silence for a moment, and he brought his free hand to trace small circles on the inside of my wrist. I slowly calmed my racing heart, and felt my breath become more steady.

“... Morgana will need a tutor.” I told him finally, my voice still quiet. Straying back into safer waters. “I-I am not sure how long she will be able to stay with us, but-”

“It’s not a problem.” He assured me, stroking my hand gently. “She can stay as long as she likes.” He chuckled lightly. “Which I hope is for a very long time... What did your brother mean though? ‘When it’s safe’?” He frowned. “Safe from what?”

I scowled, my heart rate jumping again. “... The King, in his wisdom, spoke of his plans to…” A bitter taste settled on my tongue, and I shook my head angrily. “... Valerianus and I feared for her welfare.”

Grier mirrored my scowl, and made a soft, disgusted noise. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to forcibly remove him from the throne?” He asked bitterly. “I would be only too happy to do so.” I shook my head distractedly, then stopped, a sinking feeling filling my throat. I glanced sidelong at the goblin, and he caught the look. “... What is it?”

“If…” I hesitated, stopping myself and staring down at our hands. A sudden fear filled me, a dread for the answer that I felt was forthcoming. It was the question I had been avoiding for almost the entire duration of my stay. My eyes darted to the door, as if we might be interrupted at any moment. “I-if I had not…” I took a steadying breath. “If I had not agreed to this…” I stopped again, my palms feeling clammy. I started to pull my hand out of his.

To my surprise, he latched on tightly to it. “I would never have accepted Morgana in your place.” He told me bluntly, and I winced at his words. The goblin, of course, had seen right through me. “I can’t even think of a child as...” His voice sounded disgusted even as he dropped off. Red eyes reached between us, and I met them nervously. “I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.”

My heart lodged in my throat. “But you couldn’t have known I would-” I started to argue.

“I hoped.” He returned, cutting me off. “... And you forget…” I saw his slender eyebrows twitch. “I was winning the war… I didn’t need this peace.”

My eyes must have flashed with my anger, because I saw his expression quickly recoil from his teasing. “...And had I not agreed to marry you, you would have done... what exactly?” I asked tersely. “Finished the war? Destroyed our Kingdom?” I tried to pull my hand from his. “Would you have had my family and I beheaded or just banished?” My tone was mocking and sharp. “... Or would you have imprisoned me instead?”

“No! No, of course not!” He grabbed at my wrist as I wriggled my fingers free of his. “I just meant I wasn’t forced to take a partner. I could have waited.”

“So you forced my hand instead.” My voice was becoming colder by the minute. “We needed the peace. Our people were dying. Were suffering.” I used my opposite hand to tear his off my wrist. “This was all a game to you… It’s always just...” My voice broke a little, but I quickly scowled to conceal it. “You might have been able to wait. I did not have that luxury.”

I wasn’t sure why I bit so hard back at him. Maybe because he had picked at a scab I had tried to keep hidden away. Maybe because I felt vulnerable, with him prying at my childhood, and longed to find some sort of foothold. And found a strange strength and familiarity in the anger. But when I glanced up at his face, and saw the pain there… I winced. Suddenly feeling uncertain, and more vulnerable than before. I shook my head, giving into my urge to flee the turmoil raging inside me and standing quickly. I only took a few steps away though, and stood with my back to him. Facing the fireplace.

“I didn’t mean to… to force you into this…” He finally managed after a few tense breaths. “I tried to give you opportunities to change your mind… to choose a different path... to… to wait, as I could have...” The King’s voice was melancholy and soft, and I focused on the flickering flames in an attempt to block it from my heart. “But it seems… as per usual… I didn’t quite think things through. I didn’t fully realize how much you needed the Treaty. How willing you were to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your people…”

I heard the soft creak of the cushions as he stood, and stiffened slightly. My neck itched to turn and look. To see what he was doing. To know what shape his thin lips took then, or what shade of red his eyes were. Would they be dark with his regret? Or would they flash with his pain? His slender knit eyebrows, would he have them scrunched up towards the top of his nose? Crushing together his heavy brow, piling each on top of the other; the way they did when he was mad. Or would his face be soft, with his brows almost drooping off the sides of his face, making his eyes big? Was his chin tilted up to look for my face, making his hair fall down his back? Or would he be staring at the floor, unable to find the courage to meet my gaze, and have the messy locks framing his sharp jaw and prickling his long ears? It bothered me more than I cared to admit that I didn’t know, and was left with only the memory of his face in my mind’s eye. Yet my pride, and my fear, would not allow me to turn to him. Even though having nothing but the hollow shadow of his face set a deep ache in my chest.

“... As Royals, I suppose our method is rather backwards…” He finally sought to fill the silence, and his voice placed him somewhere at my back, still close to the couch. “We marry first, and have our courtship after… We have to just hope the person we picked is a good match...” I heard him shuffle a step closer. “... I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound like I’m making excuses… But I didn’t need to wait… I didn’t want to wait… because… because...”

I jumped as his hands suddenly came around my waist, then slid to my front until his arms were wrapped as far around me as they could go. I felt him bury his face into my back, and wasn’t sure whether to stiffen at his touch or shiver. I froze, halfway through a breath. Confused by his proximity, and the heat of him bleeding through the fabric of my clothes.

“I saw you, Nikostratus, and I knew I wanted you… Knew I needed you… From the very first moment I laid eyes on you… I was lost.” His voice was muffled, but each word still stabbed at my heart. “I-I guess… I guess I just hoped that you would feel the same.” I felt him shake his head. “But you don’t need to. I know I’m… I know that maybe I move too fast for you… I beg that you can forgive me… because when it comes to you, at the very least, I am… weak...”

I let out a shaky breath, and my hand moved of its own accord to lightly brush against his arms around my waist. My mind spun, and again I had a hard time finding my voice. I was glad he couldn’t see my mouth flap like a fish.

“... Grier…”

He shook his head against me a second time. “It’s ok. I’ve already forced you into enough. You don’t have to say or do anything-”

“Can I just-” I snapped, then sucked in a tight breath, stilling myself. Trying to calm the soft lingering smolder of my anger. Trying to pull something more cohesive from the swirl of emotions in my chest. “... The past is the past... and we can’t go back and change it now.” I hesitated, then rested my hand on his arm. “... Maybe we should leave it there.”

Before he could respond, there was a loud clattering crash from beyond the door, and a few girlish shrieks. I heaved a hefty sigh, reaching up and pinching at the bridge of my nose. The King’s arms loosened a bit, as I sensed him turning towards the hall.

“I’ve left her alone too long.” I mumbled. “... I should go see what trouble she’s gotten up to now.”

As I slowly turned, he released me, keeping his eyes low. I could see him clearly now... His face was in the shape of pain; his brow knitted, his mouth small and downturned. I couldn’t see his eyes, and his wild hair fell in a frame around his face. My heart throbbed against my ribcage. I watched him nod slowly, and swallowed hard at the sight.

“... We can…” I hesitated again. “... We can talk more… later. Yes?”

He glanced up at me through his lashes. “I’d like that.”

I didn’t bother with a further farewell. Instead turning and breezing out the door. Following the sounds of growing chaos to locate Morgana.

...

The trouble with the goblin noble ladies had been more or less quickly sorted. It simply appeared to have been a small misunderstanding regarding an over extended elbow and a supposedly priceless vase. Apparently the ladies had not expected such a rambunctious human princess. But they had all seemed rather nice. Most were only a few years younger than myself, though none came past my waist. They giggled and ogled at me from behind fans, shy and formal with fluttering, oversized lashes (the latest goblin trend, I learned). However, they gushed over Morgana, and seemed to truly enjoy her spirit. After we wished them a farewell and Hibik had escorted them out, she asked me if she could have all of them be her Lady.

I didn’t have the strength to return to the room Grier might still be, so we explored the halls while she debated the qualities of each. Trying unsuccessfully to pick one from the gaggle. I let her speak, following her about with a torch in one hand. I didn’t mind. It was nice to hear her voice, and see her so excited.

So I ambled along the hall quietly, my eyes downcast as my sister sprinted around me to explore every nook and cranny as we walked. Of which there were a lot. My face was set into its usual mask of ‘seriousness’. But internally, my mind was buzzing like a thousand angry insects. At first I tried to orchestrate my thoughts; to corral them into one pattern. Soon the effort started to give me a headache, so I allowed my mind to do as it would. Barely comprehending each thought or emotion before it ricocheted off the side of my skull and another took its place.

Grier, of course, was at the forefront of my thoughts. What he had said about not needing this Treaty… but instead needing me? Gods, I just couldn’t understand his thinking. It had only been a few weeks, and the goblin was obsessed with me. I wondered if that’s how it was with goblins. Once they decided on a partner, they fixated on them. Unable to think of anyone or anything else. And he had decided on me the minute he saw me walk into the throne room. No thought, no debate. No getting to know me, or wondering if he should or shouldn’t. A part of me envied his quick and confident decision. I couldn’t think of a time I hadn’t agonized over a choice, even tiny ones. Another part of me, a smaller, quieter part… understood it. Not in the same way, albeit. The first time I had met Grier, I had been on edge. Almost terrified of him and what he represented for my people and my future. But now…

He had always been gentle with me, if a little callous at times. He had always sought to understand me, and make me as comfortable as he was able. He had fawned over me, and constantly went out of his way to speak his mind and heart to me. Which… I supposed… was part of the problem. I had never had anyone be so… And to be faced so boldly with such powerful emotions... ones that I had never been allowed to express or understand… it was unnerving. Though I found the more he did it… the less it shocked me. And I couldn’t entirely deny how much I found I enjoyed his company myself. Nor could I ignore the pleasantness of the warm feeling he elicited in my chest...

“Hey, Niko?”

I came back to the present with a few slow blinks, and turned to consider my sister as she ducked beneath my elbow. “Yes, little chickadee?”

“You ok?” Her little hands came up to wrap around my arm, and she gave it a gentle tug. “You seem… not here.”

My cheeks tinted a shade darker, and I cleared my throat lightly. “Ah, sorry, chickadee… I was just… thinking.”

“I like it here.” She told me, beaming. “It's big, and pretty, and everyone smiles a lot…” She skipped over to the nearest bobble, making funny faces in its reflective surface. “And it’s so colorful!” She looked over her shoulder at me. “... Do you like it here, Niko?”

I sighed quietly, glancing around. Considering it for a moment. “... I think I’m starting to.”

“It’s kind of messy for your tastes, isn’t it?” Morgana smiled, darting back over to scoop up my hand and pull me further down the hall. “What about the goblins? Do you like them?” She dropped my hand to run over to another strange item, poking it carefully with one finger. “I think they are nice. And I like their ears.”

I smiled a little at that, glancing around. “They are a very kind people.” I agreed.

“Grier doesn’t really look much like a goblin.” She mused aloud, and my spine stiffened at his name. As if maybe she had been reading my thoughts earlier. “He’s taller than me. And his ears are smaller than other goblins’.” She shrugged, turning and leading the way to another intersection. “He is green though, and he dresses funny. I think that’s enough.”

“Chickadee, you shouldn’t-”

“What’s it like to be married, Niko?” She asked curiously, looking back over her shoulder at me.

I stammered uselessly for a second. “I-I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that...”

She scoffed. “Not yet, anyway.” She turned her attention to the left, and skipped to the edges of the torchlight before waiting for me to catch up. “But I think you’ll like it.”

“I’ll let you know.” I replied dryly, and she giggled.

“This way.” She told me, pointing down another hallway. I followed along behind her obediently. “Do you think I’ll get married someday?”

My lips pursed, and I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I forbid it.”

“Niiikoo!”

“Nope. I’m sorry. You’re not allowed to grow up.” I told her as she charged at me to plow face first into my torso. “And only grownups get married. Ergo, you are never getting married.”

She laughed, wrapping her arms about my middle. “But I am growing up, Niko!”

“I have already forbidden it. So you cannot grow anymore.” I patted her head. “I hope you like being this tall.”

Morgana swatted my hand away, then shoved at me playfully. “You can’t keep me from growing up! You’re just a brother! Brothers can’t do that.”

“But we can do this.” I hooked my arm around her waist as she dove at me again, and simply hoisted her off the ground. Carrying her in the crook of my elbow. She screeched and kicked, alternating between laughing and yelling at me. I smirked, turning to make our way back down the hall.

“Not that way, Niko!!” She cried, punching the back of my leg. “Your rooms are the other way!”

I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Well, at least one of us has a good sense of direction.” I commended her, and turned to the correct hallway.

We were greeted by a few amused smiles as I toted her down the hallway. But despite a slight tinge to my cheeks, I found I didn’t much mind the audience. A vastly different experience than at our own castle. The goblin attendants were polite, stepping out of our way with small bows. Smiling and chuckling to themselves as we passed. I nodded to each appreciatively, formally, pretending I didn’t have a wriggling, squealing child tucked under one arm.

By the time we reached my rooms, she was laughing so hard she had gone limp in my grip. I shouldered open the door, extinguishing the torch and finally placing her back on her feet. She shoved at me again, as if to knock me off my feet. She did manage to rock me back a step, but I simply scooped her up again and dropped her over my shoulder until she relented and begged to be put down once more.

She huffed and puffed for a moment, her face flushed, and I smirked at her again. “That’s not fair! You’re bigger than me!”

I fluffed her soft hair. “Well, like I said. You’d better get used to being this size.”

“Would I be tall for a goblin?” Morgana asked me, swatting my hand away again. “Do goblin babies come from eggs? Are they very small?”

“Certainly not eggs, chickadee,” I replied, shaking my head, “And I would imagine they are quite small, yes. If you were a goblin, I suppose you would be tall… And also green.”

She giggled at my teasing, leading the way with a skipping step to the bedroom. I saw her eyes dart about, considering my chambers again. “Why are your rooms so empty, Niko? Where’s all your stuff??”

I stood behind the couch, following her eyes around. “Well… I don’t have much “stuff” here.”

“Why not?”

“... I haven’t been here very long.”

“Where does stuff even come from,” She mused, walking over to the empty sitting room. I followed a few paces behind her. “I just remember having stuff. I don’t remember getting it.”

“It depends on what it is.” I replied softly. “Some things you need, so you make sure you get them. Other things are gifts. Or perhaps tokens or remembrances. And those you collect as you go.”

She led us out to the balcony, leaning carefully over the edge. I wandered closer nervously, eyeing the long drop. And I made sure to stay within grabbing distance. Just in case.

“Ok. I’ll just have to get you gifts then.” She assured me, hanging off the railing by her arms to curl back to look at me. “That way your rooms won’t be so empty anymore.” Her head tilted to the side. “Though I guess you’ll be moving in with Grier soon. Is that where all your stuff is now?”

I stiffened and my face fell. She must have noticed, because she straightened herself out and leaned against the balcony again. We looked quietly out over the mountain range for a few minutes, and my thoughts swirled about dangerously.

“Are you excited to get married, Niko?” She asked me after a little.

I winced at the word, then glanced at her sidelong. “It’s… complicated, chickadee.”

“Why?”

I resisted the urge to sigh. “Well… I… I need to get married, to keep our people safe… I don’t really get a say in that... and whether or not I’m excited for it, I didn’t really get to choose it.”

She seemed to think about that for a second. “Yeah, but… the goblins are nice. And Grier is fun. And you’ll get to be a King, right?” She bounced a little, coming off the railing to wander over and draw circles on the cold glass of the window. “It’s like how sometimes you tell me ‘how do you know you don’t like it if you don’t try it’ whenever you want me to eat something yucky or wear something ugly.”

“It’s not quite-”

“And then sometimes, I try it, and I do like it.” She continued, ignoring me. “Valerianus says that since we’re Princes and Princesses, we don’t always get to do everything we want. And Grier said the same thing about being King. Some things we have to do. But…” She turned back to me. “That doesn’t mean we can’t like it too. Even if we didn’t get to pick it.” Her head tilted to the side. “Sometimes we think we want one thing, but really, it's not very good for us. Or it's only good for a little while. Like desert!” She danced from foot to foot as she spoke. “And then, the thing we have to do is actually really good for us… Like broccoli.” She grinned. “...Grier’s even green too.”

I raised a brow at her. “... Did you just compare my fiancé to broccoli?”

She giggled. “I just think that you always say green things are good for us… And Grier’s green too… So that means he’s probably good for us.”

I laughed loudly at that, shaking my head. “Chickadee, you are a wonder.”

Her reply was cut off by a knock from inside. Before I could even think to say anything, she had darted back through the rooms and opened the door.

“Good afternoon, Princess,” Came Seoc’s voice as I made my way more slowly to the foyer, “You are just the royal I was hoping to see.”

“I am?” She asked excitedly, bouncing on her toes. She glanced over her shoulder at me as I slowly approached.

Seoc offered me a bow, and I returned a nod before he turned back to Morgana. “Yes, Your Highness. Your rooms are ready, and we have staff on hand to-”

She squealed so loudly the goblin nearly toppled over in shock. “My very own rooms in a goblin castle!” She cried, bouncing up and down. Morgana spun, grabbing my hand. “ Come on Niko! Let’s go see!”

I sputtered an apology to Seoc, who only grinned knowingly and led the way down the hall. Morgana was practically floating beside me, she bounced so much. And when we reached the soft pine doors, she broke away to sprint in and dart from room to room. Pointing out this or that feature, marveling at the mirrors... Greeting the startled goblin decorators who waited for instruction there.

I spent the rest of the day watching my sister decorate her quarters to her heart’s content. Asking for more curtains, more blankets, more pillows. I wasn’t sure where the goblin attendants managed to find the things she asked for, but each more ludicrous item she described they seemed to manage to procure out of thin air. By the time the sun had set, she was, for once, exhausted. Though still giggling with excitement. They brought us a light supper in her newly decorated chambers, and she regaled me with a retelling of a story she had read while I was away. Her new Lady wouldn’t be able to start until the following day (Morgana finally picked the one named Safa and sent word earlier), so Seoc was more than pleased to attend to us both for the time being. Hibik even stopped by once to see that everything was progressing smoothly. I wondered briefly about another goblin, but pushed that worrying thought from my mind.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had been able to spend so much time with Morgana without being constantly guarded or interrupted by other things. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen her smile so much either. It left me in a pleasant mood, with the echo of a smile on my lips. Though I could feel the lingering buzz of my unattended thoughts permanently at the back of my mind throughout the afternoon.

When Morgana finally settled for the evening, I wished her a goodnight, and made my way out. Heading back to my own chambers down the hall, a walk so easy even I could manage it without assistance. Poor Seoc had been exhausted by my sister’s antics, and I had told him to retire early. I had a feeling tomorrow would be a busy day as well for him. My mind was heavy with the weight of my thoughts, and now without my sister to distract me, they flooded my consciousness again. I strode numbly down the hall, hardly paying attention to my surroundings.

So when I approached the door of my rooms and saw the goblin King leaning there against the wall, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I blinked at him stupidly.

“... I thought maybe we could talk more?” He proposed softly. “I didn’t like how we left things and... and I wanted to… maybe explain myself… again...”

I almost sighed, considering him, but couldn’t help my lingering good mood. “... How long has it been since your last confession?” I asked almost timidly, my voice dry. “Surely you must be filled to bursting since this morning…”

He gave me a toothy smile at my quiet teasing. I flicked my eyes away and rubbed at the back of my neck shyly.

“I do have a tendency to do that, don’t I?”

I nodded, then glanced at my door. Swallowing another sigh. “...D-do you… do you want to come in?”

The goblin’s grin turned sheepish. “...If it’s not too much trouble.”

I led the way into my chambers, hesitating in the foyer briefly before moving to the bedroom, seeing as there was nowhere else to sit. It was the first time I regretted my lack of furniture since moving in. Grier slowly sat on one side of the couch there, but as soon as I sat down too he quickly slid closer. I tried not to stiffen, even as my heart raced.

“... Are you still mad at me?” He asked, breaking the silence that had blanketed us.

I did sigh then, shaking my head. My mouth opened, then I slowly closed it again.

“I never meant to force you into this marriage,” He started to gush, “I never wanted-”

I held up my hand, silencing him. “I-I… I just need a moment…” I mumbled. “... To sort through…”

I jumped a little as he reached up and took my hand in his. But I let him slowly entwine his fingers between mine once more, and our hands fell onto the couch between us. I swallowed hard, my heart skipping in my chest. His touch had my thoughts swirling, and I struggled to try and sort through them. The King waited as patiently as he was able, yet with each passing breath I felt more and more anxious as I struggled to find what I wanted to say. Which simply made it more difficult to do so.

“... I-I… I’m not…” I shook my head again, then cleared my throat quietly. “We… I-I mean… you… or more rather… I…”

He glanced at me, lips twitching. His amusement made me even more flustered. I mumbled something incoherent and swallowed hard again. I started as he brought my fingers to his lips, resting a gentle kiss on my knuckles. I assumed he meant it to be a comforting gesture. It seemed to have the opposite effect on me. My face flushed, and I stammered something else before clamping my mouth shut. Letting the silence settle about us once more. I stared down at our hands now between us once more, uncertain what else to do in that moment.

“... I am sorry to have… perhaps pressed too hard for this moment,” Grier began, finally breaking the silence, “But… I have been dying to speak to you since…”

I didn’t answer, chasing a nervous breath down my throat with a quiet swallow. Still staring at our hands. I wasn’t sure how to answer. How to say anything at all. It was as though my tongue had completely forgotten the purpose for which it was originally designed… at the moment it was hopelessly lost in the memory of the taste of his.

“Can we perhaps… speak bluntly for a moment?” He asked, his voice soft with a foreign somberness to it. “... I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I adjusted my tongue in my mouth, glancing over at the door. Remembering that morning with a wince. “I-I… I apologize for… f-for…”

He shook his head, and I stiffened as he slid a little closer. Lifting our clasped hands up to rest on his knee between us. I swallowed again, my eyes darting about in an effort to find some measure of distraction. No matter how small.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” He reassured me quietly, tilting his head in an effort to try and catch my eye, “I just... Wanted to say a few things. And to ask a few things, if you are willing…”

I looked down at our hands, then back over to the door. Shifting nervously. “B-but… ah… Morgana…” I dropped off, my excuse sounding weak even to my own ears.

He chuckled lightly. “She’ll be fine for the night now, surely… I just…” He sighed, brushing his hair out of his face with his free hand, “This… this is hard for me… “

My heart suddenly plummeted into the pits of my stomach, leaving my head spinning. Hard for him? What was hard for him? My mind raced with a thousand possibilities, each one worse than the last. My outburst that morning had made him realize we wanted different things. Or perhaps he had been insulted that I did not return his affection. Perhaps he had come to his senses finally. Realized he didn’t like me as much as he thought. Or maybe he wanted to ask permission to take a lover. Or maybe something about… I raked my brain. What had happened yesterday? What had he seen? Was it my father? Was he worried about him? Or perhaps something to do with Morgana-

“I miss you.”

I jerked my head up, staring at him, absolutely flabbergasted. He shuffled, and now it was his turn to avoid my eyes. My mouth opened, then I closed it again. What in the gods’ names did he mean?? I had hardly been away from the man for more than two weeks. And during that time I had been dragged through emotional upheaval after emotional upheaval, been forced to face the most hated parts of myself, forced to face my father’s disownment, forced to… to feel this warmth. To wonder at the lighter-than-air feeling his company left me with. Forced to endure a heart that couldn’t decide whether it should race or freeze in my breast. All because of this man. All because I had hardly left his side. And yet, now he said he missed me? … Had I changed? Had I regressed to my previous self, all hard walls and blunted edges? Or perhaps my outburst from the morning had left him thinking I was an angry and bitter person. I ached with each thought, wondering what he could possibly mean.

He didn’t leave me waiting long. “It sounds silly, I know, but it’s the best way I can think to describe it…” His scarlet eyes drifted to our hands, and he slowly turned mine over. “I miss you. I miss you constantly. You’re… you’re all I can think about.” He ran his thumb across the palm of my hand. “And.. it’s hard, because… I don’t want to scare you, or rush you… But I just… I always want to be touching you. I always want to be near you. I think about the taste of your mouth, and the feel of your body against mine… and…” He smirked sadly, “And then I miss you.”

I stayed frozen, stuck in place. A haze around my head, a tingling in my fingers even as he ran his back and forth over them. My heart thudded so loudly in my breast I was certain he would be able to hear it, and I sought to quell its thunder. I wanted to speak, to say something back to him. But my thoughts were a swirling mess, and I couldn’t pull more than a word or two from the thicket. And nothing I pulled felt right.

“I… I was very angry at the castle yesterday…I could barely control it… ” He told me softly, “When I saw that… To think that he…” His jaw clenched, and he shook his head, “I hurt for you. I thought more than once about barging back into the chambers and just…” He sighed, “And now I…” Another sigh, and he shook his head. “... But then, I’m selfish... I’m selfish, and needy, and desperate for your attention…” He was still refusing to meet my eyes, staring down at our hands. “I want to be the one to make you happy. I want to be the one to have the secret of your smile. I want to know all your little intimate, hidden parts you keep tucked away. I… I want you to be mine. Completely mine. And I don’t want to share you with anyone else…”

I didn’t entirely feel like I was sitting there at all. I felt as though I was floating above us, listening to Grier’s confessional. But I was filled with that strange warmth, one becoming more and more familiar each time it flushed my frame from head to toe. I peeked at his face shyly from beneath my dark lashes, and noted that he was still avoiding looking at mine.

“I’m trying to be patient… Trying to stay in your comfort zone… But ah…” I thought he looked a little more green than normal, and a sad smile played at the corners of his thin lips. “But I wanted to keep you abreast of my thinking… so if you ever wanted to… to take some initiative, or ask for something… I wanted you to know that you’ll never overstep your bounds, or make me uncomfortable, or unhappy… or anything like that… Not that you have to,” He added quickly “… If this is all you ever want, I’m happy to give that to you too… ” He squeezed my hand gently. “You could ask me for the sun, and I would be content spending the rest of my life in darkness to give it to you…” Grier gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Aah, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to gush quite so much… especially after this morning…” He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “You must think me an absolute-”

I liked the taste of his voice in my mouth as I suddenly caught his against it. I liked the way he drew in a sharp breath, then quickly recovered to reach out with his free hand and catch the back of my head so eagerly. I liked the way he slid closer, until our thighs brushed together, stretching to the farthest extent of his reach. Lacing our lips as deeply against each other as he could. I shivered as his fingers ran along my hair, and his thumb traced just below my ear.

A wave of shyness washed over me after a shuttering beat of my heart, and I pulled back. Blinking and blushing profusely. He lingered nearby, our faces nearly touching, his hand still at the back of my neck. I opened my mouth, breathing shallowly for a moment, trying to will the words to my lips. I saw his scarlet eyes watching me quietly, filled with something I had no name for which left my heart skipping sporadically.

“...I’m…” I started, my voice barely beyond a whisper, “I-I’m… I’m not good at this…” My words felt smushed and mumbled, and I wasn’t sure he’d be able to understand me. But I had to try. I wanted to try... I stared down at our hands, still clasped on his knee. “I… don’t… I d-don’t… I don’t always know… what I’m…” I dropped off, swallowing hard. “What I’m… feeling…” I scoffed at myself softly. “I never know… And… A-and I don’t trust myself… with this…” I chanced a glance up at him. “... With you.”

His hand slid down, cupping my cheek. “... Can I help? … Am I rushing you?”

I hesitated, bringing up my hand to lay over his. Hooking my fingers around it as if I was going to pull it away. But then, I closed my eyes, and let myself lean into it instead.

“You do help.” I breathed against his wrist, and I felt him squeeze our other hands together. “And… I need… I think I need you to…. Push me… j-just a little.” My eyes half opened, and I stared off at nothing, still tucked into his palm. “Because… b-because I’m… I’m scared.”

“... Of me?” His voice was equally soft.

I shook my head, then hesitated again. I finally took his hand from my cheek, looking down at it still wrapped in my own. A dull ache formed inside me, and I felt my brow furrow. Felt lines crease into the edges of my eyes as I tried to find the words to describe whatever was pulsing through me. Whatever sensation this was… whatever emotion. But I couldn’t think of the words. Couldn’t find how to tell him… Then I brought his hand to my chest, and flattened his palm against it, pressing my hand lightly on top.

“... Of this…” I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head slightly. Wondering if he could feel my heart sputtering beneath his fingertips. “I-I don’t… I don’t trust it… I don’t understand it…”

I felt his weight shift beside me, felt the brush of his breath against my cheek. Then the heat of his lips there, as faint as the air had been a moment before. He released my hand on his knee, bringing it up to hold my face steady, as he planted a gentle kiss on each of my eyelids. I shivered beneath his touch, and felt his fingers curl beneath mine against my chest. I didn’t dare move, afraid of breaking the moment. Afraid of losing the warmth curling through me.

“... After what I saw yesterday…” Grier murmured softly, his hand gently caressing my cheek, “I can’t imagine that you were ever allowed to have emotions… let alone express them… But… I see you, Nikostratus,” He pressed his hand a little tighter to my chest, “... I see how much you’ve changed, just in the short time you’ve been here…” He stopped, and I opened my eyes to find him kneeling on the couch, his legs behind him, perched slightly above me with scarlet eyes vibrant. I looked away from them shyly. “... Change is the wrong word… Especially with Morgana here…” I winced, and he leaned closer at that, resting his forehead against mine. “I’d like to think you two are more alike than perhaps you may first appear…” He sighed softly, his breath spilling across my face, and I drew it in deeply, greedily. “... It makes me wonder what it would’ve been like if…” He dropped off.

I started to shake my head, but he stilled me with his hand. “... I don’t want this for her…” I told him quietly, my voice thin. “I don’t want her to… to end up like me…”

“You act like that would be such a bad thing.” He replied, running his thumb along my cheek.

“... Is it not?” It was a question, but one that echoed with the sad solidity of a declaration.

“I like you. I like everything about you.” He pressed. “I think she would be lucky to end up like you.” He stilled me again as I tried to shake my head once more. “I think you fail to see what a good person you are. You are smart, and loyal, and kind. You are selfless, and honorable.” A smirk slipped across his lips. “And undeniably handsome.”

“S-stop… S-stop that…” I finally managed to shake my head, starting to pull away from him, suddenly sensitive to his touch. “I-I am… I am timid, and hesitant… I-I prefer being alone … I-I have a temper… and I don’t know h-how to… to explain myself… I don’t…” I stopped, glancing at him out the corner of my eye, “... I never take…”

“And I am an arrogant ass, who throws a fit when he’s not the center of attention.” Grier returned even as my voice petered out, catching his fingers in my vest and giving it a gentle tug. “I’m pushy, and demanding, and emotional. I’m impatient. I never think things through.” I let him pull me a little closer, and he ran his thumb over the buttons running down my front. “And I’m selfish, for wanting someone as wonderful as you…”

“You’re not…” I blushed, then averted my eyes. “Ah… y-you’re not… that much of an ass…” He laughed at my shy teasing, and my lips twitched at the corners, feeling a little bolder. “... You’re a good King… and you’re thoughtful… a-and amiable… and… a-ah…” I dropped off, my face growing even hotter. “A-and… gentle... And nice …” I stared down at my lap, running my thumb hesitantly across his knuckles still latched around my vest.

The fingers of his free hand came back to my chin, tilting my head. Just in time to meet his lips as they came to bear against mine. I let out a fluttering breath, hitched and fearful, but couldn’t help melting into his mouth. Leaning close. Feeling my head spin and that strange yet wonderful warmth filling me. He kissed me deeply, his fingers skipping back up my jaw to cup the base of my skull. His fist balled in my vest, pulling me closer to him. My free hand smoothed across his knee where he had left it. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to relax. Forcing myself not to think about anything else, and to just enjoy that moment… that moment of bliss, and the taste of his tongue as he slipped it between my lips. The heat of his hand on my neck. The insistent tug of his fist at my breast. 

By the time he finally broke away, he was practically on my lap. Half kneeling over me, half sitting, so that for once I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. Which I did, shyly, and he smiled. Baring those sharp, pointy teeth at me.

“I love the taste of you,” He murmured, stroking his fingers back and forth across my neck, “You always taste sweet, and you smell sweet too. I’m obsessed with the way you smell.” He leaned down, nudging his nose against the tip of mine. “I love the color of your eyes, and I’m haunted by that ghost of a smile you keep trapped at the edges of your lips.” His hand traced lower down my neck, slipping idly beneath my collar. “And your voice… I could listen to your voice all night…”

I didn’t know how to respond. I tried to find words, tried to ease the heat currently burning my ears. But the warmth was in my chest now, and though I longed to say something back, I just… couldn’t seem to make the sounds come out. So I opted for an alternative answer… and I brushed our lips together again, as gentle as a feather. Hoping that action would relay my meaning to him. I felt him leaning after me as I drew away. My eyes flicked to the side, hiding away from him even as he tilted his head to try and catch them once more. He seemed to consider this for a moment as my face flushed and my heart raced.

“Everyone has their faults, Nikostratus,” He told me, running his fingers along the bare skin at the top of my spine, “Only a statue can strive to be perfect.” Grier dipped, falling back into my line of sight and locking our eyes together. “But something made of stone can never live. And to be alive means taking the bad,” He snuck in closer, until his lips brushed against mine as he spoke his next words, “With the good.”

I let myself give in to the temptation of his breath on my lips. Closing the gap and kissing him again. And again. And again. I felt him ease himself closer, sliding his arm around my neck, slipping his hand at my front between the stealthily unbuttoned layers of fabric. The heat of him was intoxicating, and my own hands reached for his waist. I wasn’t sure if I pulled him there, or if he slid across himself, but suddenly I found him on my lap. His bottom resting on my thighs, his knees on either side of my hips. He curled over me, bending my head back with the passion of his kisses until it scraped the back of the couch. He kept one arm wrapped around my neck, the other was wiggling its way further under my vest. 

He seemed unable to sit still, like a wave cresting and falling, crashing slowly against my body. It sent a hot gush of emotions through me, and burned my core like fire. My hands slid around his waist, stacking one arm on top of the other to crush him to me, one palm pressed between his shoulder blades. To feel the life of him with each breath that pressed our chests together. To feel the passion as his hips slowly ground against mine. I would have groaned, had he allowed a single molecule of air to pass between my mouth and his. Instead I shuddered, quivering beneath his touch. Lost in the storm of his kisses. The taste of his mouth, the feeling of his tongue swirling around mine.

The goblin pulled back suddenly, and I found myself gulping in deep breaths of air that felt cold compared to the heat of his lips. My eyes fluttered open, and I stared up at him, my jaw a little slack. 

“Not yet…” He breathed against me, and I wasn’t sure if it was for my benefit or his, considering the hunger in his eyes. “... I can do better than this.”

I almost laughed, my gaze flickering down to his lips. “Better?”

“Special.” He crooned, dripping closer to me, and my breath shuddered from my own lips. “You said you wanted it to be special.”

I was distracted by the way the candlelight danced in his eyes, and didn’t respond for a moment. “... Did I?” I mumbled, belatedly.

He chuckled, and I could feel his breath against my cheeks again. “You did.” His teeth pricked my bottom lip lightly. “...And I live to please.”

“A-ah…” I stammered, then blinked earnestly, trying to clear the swirling heat in my head. “...R-right…”

His eyes traced around the edge of my face, and he settled on my lap carefully. My face burned as I became vividly aware of his growing “interest” in me as he did. And I could definitely feel my own blood rushing through more than just my face. My breath tasted different, and I itched to feel more of him. Burned to return to our previous pursuit... My heart raced and skipped, and my thoughts became a useless swirl again.

“Perhaps I should go,” He mused, though his voice sounded leery of the thought, “Let you… sleep. It’s late.”

He started to shift, and my arms suddenly tightened around him. My own eyes widened in shock of my own daringness. And I felt a shiver of anxiousness ripple through me as he looked back at me in what I supposed was surprise.

“O-or… Or you… y-you could…” I swallowed the fast forming lump in my throat, and wondered if my mouth had always been this dry. “A-ah… You could… s-stay.”

“Stay?” he echoed, and I nodded sheepishly, instantly dropping my eyes bashfully away from his. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t hear his grin in his voice with his next words. “... Well, I suppose I could… though your bed is smaller than mine.”

His teasing left my ears hot, and I suddenly recalled the fact that he was still sitting on my lap. And was likely just as aware of the bulge between my own legs. I quickly loosened my hold on him, rubbing at the back of my neck with one hand and trying to look around as if the empty bedchambers were far more interesting than the goblin perched on my person. He chuckled softly again, and I noticed him look over my shoulder for a minute. Chewing over the offer.

“I-it’s ok.” I quickly gushed. “You don’t have-”

“I want to.” He cut me off, then his hand came up, turning me to face him. “Just to sleep though… If you’ll have me.”

I nodded again, stealing quick glances at him periodically before darting my eyes away. I jumped slightly as he leaned back over me to kiss me again. Tenderly, as if I might dissolve into smoke should he be too rough. For half a second, I thought I had...

He broke away and slid off my lap, catching my hands up in his as he did. Tugging me lightly to my feet. And leading me over to the bed. My heart skipped and pounded in my breast, leaping about wildly. He released my hands to pull off his boots and stockings, and to untuck his tunic. I watched him for as long as I dared, then turned my back on him with the pretense of taking off my own boots to place in their usual place. I stood them neatly, folding my stockings and placing them alongside the rest. I tried not to think too much about the soft creak of the mattress as I heard him settling onto the bed behind me. Carefully, I removed my vest, brushing it down quietly and folding it. Then, a little more hesitantly, I removed my tunic. Folding that as well and placing it with the rest. I pretended not to notice the goblin watching me as I turned back. I noticed his shirt discarded on the ground and picked it up. Folding it neatly and laying it over the back of the couch. I even straightened his boots, placing them next to mine. Delaying my return to the bed further to walk around and put out the candles. Carefully, so as to not drip wax.

I heard his soft chortle, and glanced at him over my shoulder. He reached out a hand, as if to pull me in by it, and I nearly swooned for the sight of him. Stretched across my bed, propped up on one elbow. Reaching out to me while bathed in moonlight… I wished I could go splash myself with cold water. To make sure I wasn’t dreaming and for… other pressing reasons.

Timidly, I walked around the end of the mattress, to the empty side closer to the window. Climbing slowly in beside him. It was warm enough to lay with our torsos above the blankets, but he spread them lightly about our legs as we settled into them. I watched quietly, laying on my back with my head turned towards him. Stiff as a board.

“Would it make you feel better if I didn’t face you?” He teased gently, seeming amused. He rolled onto his side, facing the couch. I traced my eyes over the fine muscles of his back and shoulders. Studied the delicate drape of his long, wild hair.

Hesitantly, I dared slide closer. I let a few breaths pass before I turned onto my side, and reached towards him. My fingers faltered, and my hand shook. But after a few more heartbeats, I braved slipping my palm over his shoulder. His hand came up, brushing his fingertips along my knuckles. His touch soothed me a little more, and I slid closer. Until I could feel the heat wafting off his back. Before I could fully work up my courage, the goblin scooched towards me, closing the last of the gap between us and tucking himself into my chest. I tensed for a moment, then relaxed as the soft and spicy scent of him filled my nose. I slowly wound my arm around him, resting my head on the pillow, my chin and nose brushing his hair. It was soft, like satin, and thicker than I would have thought. Messy, certainly, but without knots or tangles. I tried to calm the heat racing through my veins.

Grier traced his fingers lazily up and down my arm wrapped about his middle. As he did, I felt myself loosen a little more. And more with each passing minute. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in a quiet sigh.

“Can I ask you something?” He murmured after a few quiet moments. I hesitated, then nodded against the top of his head. “... Would you want to move to my rooms? After we get married, I mean. Permanently.”

I tried not to stiffen again. Tried to let myself stay in that comfortable shape, curled around him. I swallowed hard, turning it over for a second.

“... I-I don’t… I don’t know…” I mumbled back. “I’d never really… considered... ummm…”

“What about kids?” He asked. “Last we spoke about them, you said you’d ‘never really thought about it’. Have you thought about it more yet?”

“O-oh…” I shifted, suddenly uncertain. “No… not really…”

“... Have you thought about our future at all?”

I swallowed hard again. “N-no…” I confessed. “B-but it’s only been… ah…”

He scoffed lightly, his fingers slowing their movement. “Well, I suppose it’s not like we need to rush… but I think about those kinds of things a lot…”

I said nothing for a long time. He lay still in my arms, and I didn’t relax again until his fingers restarted their movement. I sighed against his hair, blinking the tiredness from my eyes.

“I-I… I haven’t… I can’t seem t-to…” I stammered. His hand paused, squeezing my forearm wrapped around him reassuringly. I adjusted my tongue in my mouth. “I’m just… uncertain… and perhaps a bit… umm… wary…”

To my surprise, he nodded. “You’ve got a lot of walls, Nikostratus. And… I assume you put them in place to keep yourself safe. To keep yourself from getting hurt.” He squeezed again. “But if you’ll let me, I’d like to help you bring them down… At least around me.”

“I don’t know… I just…” I slowly wound my arm a little tighter around him, pulling him deeper into my chest. “I-I… I’ve never been… been asked before and… I just… don’t know...” I buried my face in his hair for a moment, then turned my head to the side once my lungs were filled with his scent. “I don’t know how… how I feel… or… Or what I want…”

I hesitated, and must have drawn in sharp enough a breath that he felt it. “You can tell me,” He told me softly, and I wondered what his face looked like at that moment, “It’s alright. Be honest.”

I shifted again. “I’m not sure yet if… If I really like you… or if…” Again I hesitated, and he squeezed my arm gently once more. “... Or if I am just… just finally letting myself… like someone…” I closed my eyes in denial of their burning edges. “I need more time… I-I need to know before…”

He didn’t say anything to that, and part of me longed to see his face again. To see what he was thinking, as I knew it would be plainly written across his features. Another part of me didn’t. I wasn’t sure what I would do if I saw the ache echoing there that I felt in my chest. It was better this way, I reassured myself. Better that I didn’t let him get his hopes up, just to crush them later. Better that he knows now… I told myself that… but it didn’t feel better.

“... I’m marrying you,” I whispered, and tried to keep my voice from quivering, tried to keep from stumbling over the strangeness of that notion slipping through my lips, “I will never go back on my promise for that… but…” I thought I felt him wince at the word, and I instinctively pulled him a little tighter to me. “... But I… I just… I just don’t know.” I sighed, trying to fight the burning in my eyes even harder. “... I like this… I like… umm… th-this…” I turned my face into his hair again, trying to draw strength from the smell of it. “... I think I like this…” Now it was my turn to wince. “... I-I’m sorry…”

He ran his hand up and down my arm again. “Don’t be. I asked you to be honest with me. To always feel free to speak your mind.” I felt him nod, and it made me pull him even closer, curling myself completely around his smaller body. “This is your truth right now. Your emotions are always true, no matter how they make anyone else feel. I would not hold them against you…. And I can wait. Until you know…” His voice dropped off, “... One way or the other…” He scooped up my hand around his middle, bringing it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss over the knuckles. Belittling the sad tinge to his voice. “And I’ll enjoy this. All of this. Because I already know my heart.” He kissed them again, then tucked it against his cheek and settled down to sleep. “I can wait until you know yours...”

....

There was an exasperated cry, and the sound of a door hitting a wall. My only warning before I was jarred fully awake by the added weight suddenly bouncing next to me.

“Niko! NikoNikoNikoNikoNIKO!”

I sat bolt upright, flailing a moment, then feeling the blood rush so thickly through my face I thought my head might explode. Morgana bounced on me, grinning like a fool. She clambered to her feet and continued to jump up and down on the mattress. Leaping back and forth in my bed with a long string of my name punctuating each pounce. My eyes went wide, and then darted to a flabbergasted Seoc and Hibik who now stood at the foot of the bed. Both babbling over the other incoherently. Beside me, Grier gave a grumpy moan, rolling deeper into the pillows. Somehow unperturbed by the ruckus around him. His sound however, had me nearly squeaking in embarrassment.

“Niko! Hibik says I have to ask you if I can go to the gardens. Are there lots of flowers? Can I go? Is it very cold?” She bounced over my knees, barely dodging landing on Grier’s legs, as her words came out so fast I could barely distinguish one from another. “Oh!” She tilted her head to the side. “Did you know Grier is here too?? Is he still asleep? But the sun’s up already!”

“My apologies, Your Highness!” Seoc finally managed, and he seemed to be panting, his slicked back hair disheveled. “Sh-she was very insistent! I tried to stop her!”

The goblins were hastily shifting and moving back and forth, only adding to the overall chaos as Morgana jumped around. Hibik was speaking rapidly to Seoc in goblinese, who seemed to be trying to skitter from side to side as if to predict which part of the bed the Princess would be closest to when he got there. 

“They said you were sleeping! But it’s dawn! You never sleep past dawn!” She told me as she bounced, grinning from ear to ear as she ignored their frantic attempts to coax her down. “And I tried to tell them that-”

“Ch-Chickadee!” I stammered, reaching up to catch her hand. “That’s enough… C-come here.”

She dropped to her bottom, plopping down onto the bed beside me with her legs dangling off the side. The pair of goblins darted over, sputtering apologies in a mixture of Common and goblinese and bowing repeatedly. My face was so hot it hurt, and I struggled to get my mouth and mind to work in coordination. I tried to shake my head, made some attempts to soothe their rushed words. But couldn’t seem to work up the volume to get a word in edgewise.

“Get. OUT. You fools.” Grier growled from somewhere behind me, his voice coarse with sleep. “Now!”

I jumped at the King’s angry snap, even muffled as it was by the sheets and pillows. I almost didn’t recognize it as his. Both of the goblin attendants squeaked, nearly running over each other in their haste to obey the King. Obviously not wishing to suffer his wrath should they be seen hesitating. I was pretty sure I heard the soft thud of one of them tripping over their own feet before I heard the click of the door. Morgana spared the King a glance, but seemed otherwise unbothered.

“Niko, I was talking to Hibik, and he said that the kitchen is really big, so I was thinking-”

“Chickadee,” I breathed, struggling to get enough air through my constricted chest, “Please, I-I need a few minutes-”

“To get Grier up? It’s ok, he can come to the kitchen too. Or is he too busy?” She tilted her head to the side. “What do Kings even do all day?”

“Chickad-” I tried to start again.

“Why IS Grier here?” She asked, tilting her head to the other side. “Did you two sleep together?” I did squeak now, my entire body stiffening at her words. “I thought you would sleep in his room, because that’s where all your stuff must be-”

“Morgana!” I snapped, my voice suddenly tight. She started slightly at that, finally looking up at me and falling still. Instantly I regretted my harshness, and swallowed nervously. “... Look, Chickadee…” I amended gently. “... Why don’t you go with Hibik to the gardens? Or Seoc? Explore for a bit? I-I’ll…. I’ll catch up as soon as I can.”

She watched me for a second, seeming to think this over. I saw her hazel eyes dart over to Grier, still mostly buried in the blankets behind me. I winced, feeling the heat pounding through my head again. But tried very hard to pretend the goblin wasn’t actually there.

“Ok, I like that idea.” She finally agreed, nodding, and bounding from the bed. “Sorry I woke you, Niko.” She leaned over my lap, forearms on my knees. “Sorry Grier!”

His muffled grunt had me stiffening anew, and I blinked rapidly, swinging my legs out of the bed as if in denial that we were in the same one. Morgana’s small body, draped across them, came along with me, and she giggled. Leaping up to wrap her arms around my neck and give me a hug. I tried to release my tension with a sigh, but it only seemed to fan the flames under the balls of my cheeks.

“Listen, Chickadee,” I told her softly, “We’ll… We’ll need to talk about this later…” She leaned back, looking up at me curiously. I fumbled, my lips becoming like butter. Then shook my head. “But go explore for now.” I scooped the back of her head with my hand as she moved to run off. “And listen to Seoc and Hibik. Ok?”

“Ok, Niko.” She replied exasperatedly, pulling my hand away and skipping off to the foyer.

As soon as she darted out the door (and obliviously left it slightly ajar behind her) I groaned. Dropping my face into my hands and releasing a breath so deep it made my shoulders quiver. My blood was still rushing in my ears, and I felt dizzy and lightheaded.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a pair of warm green hands slowly slid across my shoulders. I lifted myself from my palms a little, enough to peek nervously at the King out the corner of my eye. My heart skittered and raced at his touch. Grier rested his chin on my shoulder, draping lazily over me. Giving a toothy yawn and blinking sleepily.

“That was certainly a wake up call.” He mused, sounding both tickled and groggy, still a little hoarse.

“... I think I’m going to be sick.” I moaned softly, and he laughed quietly at that.

I jumped again as his hot lips pressed to the soft skin of my neck. “Best thing for an upset stomach is rest…” Another light kiss. “...Come back to bed.”

I hesitated, fidgeting in place. Unable to reconcile the memory of the previous evening with the events of the morning. I glanced nervously towards the slightly ajar door.

“A-aah… B-but Morgana-”

“Can wait.” He trailed a kiss down my neck again, sliding his hot arms even further around me. “Come sleep some more.” When I cast him another peeking look over my shoulder, he grinned sleepily, his eyes still half-lidded. “Selfish, remember?” Another kiss. “I want you-” and another “-all for myself.”

I weakly gestured towards the crack of light snaking out into the hall beyond. “S-she ah… left the door-”

Grier murmured something against my skin I didn’t understand, and flicked his fingers towards the foyer. And the door slammed shut forcefully. I heard the deadlock fall into place with a thud that echoed in the silence following. I swallowed hard.

“It’s too early.” He moaned letting up the press of his lips against my throat to sigh deeply and rest his cheek in the crook of my neck instead. I hadn’t realized how flushed I was until I felt his own heat popping beads of sweat across my skin. “I don’t know how you stand it. And all this sunlight-” He blinked at the window, scowling “-I miss my dark room.”

“... You could go back.” I mumbled dryly, and he chortled.

“Not without you.” He returned in a soft purr. The goblin trailed his fingers lazily up my sternum, sending a shiver down my spine. “...Come to bed?”

I glanced down at my bare feet, shaking my head again shyly. “I-I’m too awake now.”

He gave me a gentle tug. “Then be awake. I’ll sleep for the both of us.”

I shook my head once more. “...Y-you and Morgana must be in a competition to see who is more incorrigible.”

He laughed a final time, laying a final kiss against the side of my neck. I couldn’t help curling away bashfully. The King hummed a soft sound at that, reaching up and turning my head to the side. Then planted a proper, if sloppy, hot kiss on my lips.

“Well, I’m going back to sleep.” He declared weakly as he drew away, considering me through half-lidded eyes. “I’ve already been awake far too long for my liking.”

He flopped back into the sheets, and I looked over at him, surprised. As I watched, he burrowed deeper into them and gave a hefty sigh… I wondered quite how he managed that so easily. I felt a pang of jealousy, but quickly brushed it away. Standing and heading over to my trunk to pull out a fresh tunic and vest. I chanced a glance back over at him as I pulled it over my head and tucked it into my trousers, only to find his breathing had already deepened. I pretended I wasn’t checking on him after every other button as I fastened my vest, and that it was absolute coincidence that I ended up next to the bed a few moments later. Though of course, since I was already there…

I reached out timidly, daring to brush my fingertips along his wild bangs. I drew in a sharp breath, looking around. As if someone might pop out and demand to know exactly what I thought I was doing. No one did though, and I returned my attention to his sleeping face, half submerged in the soft blankets. I dared trail a little closer, bending over him. I decided he was either a very good actor, or already in a very deep sleep. Still, I felt emboldened by his stillness, and placed a shy, almost curious kiss on his temple.

I drew in a sharp breath, withdrawing in surprise, my brow furrowing. I forgot myself, and cupped my hand along his jaw, then slid it up to his forehead. Confirming what my lips had already deduced. The goblin stirred beneath my palm.

“Grier, you’re hot…” I told him, trying to keep the nervousness from my voice.

He shifted sleepily, but a wry smile played across his thin lips. “You’re not so bad yourself…” He mumbled groggily.

“No, I-I…” I stammered exasperatedly, “I mean… You’re burning up…” I couldn’t help but cup my hand around the back of his head. “D-do, do you feel alright?”

He groaned, weakly trying to push my hand away. “I’m just tired. Join me, or leave me be.”

“I’m getting Hibik.”

“Nooo, gods, I’m… I’m fine…” He grumbled, but seemed to be struggling to open his eyes again. “Don’t get that old… that old…”

I didn’t linger a moment longer, spinning and practically running to the hall. The door wasn’t even fully open before I was shouting for the older goblin…

...

UPDATE: Part Twelve HERE

[simplybakugou]

The Villain -- Ch. 10: Truly Happy

A/N: this is the last chapter (unless I change my mind and try to squeeze in another chapter lmao) but don’t worry, there will be an epilogue posted soon!

Pairing: villain!bakugou x female!reader

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 3,475

Remember, if you want to be tagged in future chapters, comment below and I’ll add your username to the list!

LINKS TO PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

✐posted 06.07.2020✐

The nurses smiled, bowing as they exited the room after finishing their checkup. You thanked them as they left, touching the bandage wrapped around your head. The back of your skull still throbbed from the staples the doctors impaled in you, making the pain intensify threefold. Other than the injury caused by the baseball bat Natsuya took to your head twice, your body was in one piece thankfully.

As for your quirk, it was completely wiped from your system. No matter how hard you tried to use it, your efforts were wasted. You were quirkless now.

But with the few hours you spent in the hospital, you could only sit around with your thoughts keeping you company. You had come to terms with losing your quirk at this point. As much as you loved your quirk and being able to utilize it to save and assist others, you were thankful that you had lost it over Bakugou’s. You had been given the opportunity to use it for heroism for a short period of time but it was far longer for you than it was for Bakugou. It wasn’t hard for you to recall all the times Bakugou vowed and boasted about how easy it would be for him to be a hero with a quirk so powerful and to see him unable to use it for good broke your heart.

After calling the authorities, Bakugou turned himself in as they arrested Natsuya. You were to give a statement on the occurrences from the night as well as testify for Bakugou along with Hawks and the Hero Commission Center. You felt a tug in your chest just thinking about it. It was difficult to think of the charges against Bakugou as he wasn’t completely off the hook. He still hurt civilians, no matter if it was for show or not but hopefully Hawks and Bakugou handing in the location to the rest of the League and Vanguard would make up for the damage he caused.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, tearing you away from the countless amount of worries piling up in the back of your mind. You flitted your eyes up, taken aback as two strong pink arms wrapped themselves around your neck. You groaned from the sudden contact.

“You’re okay! I thought you were hurt badly!” Mina cried.

You sighed as she pulled away with tears streaking your face. You mustered a smile to reassure her. “I’m fine, Mina. You don’t have to cry.”

She glared at you through her tears. “Of course I do! When the police called me and told me what happened, I couldn’t believe it!”

Before Mina could go on and on about her concerns, three knocks sounded from the door. You and Mina glanced over, gasping at the sight of Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima waiting idly by with small smiles on each of their faces. 

“What’re you guys doing here?” You asked, flustered by the presence of so many people at once.

“Heard the number one hero was hurt so of course we had to stop by,” Sero said with a grin as the three men approached your bed.

You smiled, shaking your head. “How the hell did you guys find out about this so quickly?”

Kaminari gestured over to the TV that you hadn’t bothered turning on. “It’s all over the news now.” You nodded in understanding, not surprised that the media had covered this big a story so quickly. 

“So it’s true?” Kirishima asked. “That Yamashita’s the real leader and Bakugou was acting this whole time?”

You nodded again as all four of them stared intently at you for your response. “Apparently he was approached by the Hero Commision to be a double agent. He’s been faking it for all these years.”

Mina rested her hand caringly on your shoulder before anyone else could say anything. “Are you alright? I mean about the whole Yamashita thing. I know how much he means to you.”

“Meant to me,” you corrected. “He meant a lot but I can never forgive him for this or see him the same again.”

“And you shouldn’t have to. He’s an asshole and he deserves to rot for what he’s done,” Sero said, Kaminari and Kirishima nodding along.

Kaminari eyed you nervously as if he were hesitant to speak. “I didn’t want to bring this up but on our way here I heard the nurses talking about it so it seemed important. Y/N, were you hit with the Quirk-Destroying Drug?”

Kaminari, Sero, and Mina all looked bewildered, turning their heads quickly over to you. You smiled, not wanting them to worry more than they already were. “I’m okay though. And you don’t have to feel bad or pity me. I’m fine with what happened.”

“Y/N…” Mina said sadly, wrapping her arms around you once more into her embrace. You sighed, rubbing her back in an attempt to comfort her.

“It’s not good for me to mope around about it. I’ve come to terms with it and there’s nothing that I can do that can change that,” you stated.

“You’re still our number one hero no matter what!” Sero said earnestly, making you smile. No matter what, you would never be forgotten by anyone as the number one hero.

Kirishima’s fist shook at his side after a moment of silence. “Can’t believe that idiot was faking it the whole time. And he didn’t even bother to rely on us, his friends, for help.”

“Yeah, it’s not like we wouldn’t have helped him or anything,” Sero said, Kaminari nodding along.

“But he had to make sure we were all fooled because if any of us slipped up for even a second, the rest of the League and the Vanguard would’ve caught on, and he would’ve been in trouble,” you reasoned, causing Kirishima, Sero, and Kaminari to stay silent, understanding the gravity of the situation that Bakugou was put into.

“Well, it’s not like he didn’t have his moments,” Kaminari said, eyeing you. “He would tense up when a certain someone was the one he had to go against.”

Sero snickered and Kirishima smiled. Even Mina nudged your side but you were just confused. “Who would he tense up around?”

Your four friends burst into laughter and you were still left stunned and out of the loop. Mina patted your back. “Maybe you’re better off not knowing.”

***

Bakugou’s investigation was one of the most nerve wracking experiences you had ever gone through, beating the countless times you had your life out in danger because of your job. Months had passed and he was still under police custody for interrogation and the remainder of the investigation. Throughout the process, Hawks and the Hero Commission Center gave their side of the story, reassuring the authorities that the blame was solely on them.

Everyday news outlets would cover Bakugou’s story, little pieces of news being delivered to the public on a regular basis. As a result, the court found Bakugou not guilty for the damage he had to cause. Instead, they fined the Hero Commission Center for approaching a minor with such a serious and deadly task, even compensating Bakugou’s parents who suffered with the idea that their son had abandoned them.

Along the way, you were called in to testify and provide your report for what occurred during your kidnapping. You made sure not to hold back on describing Bakugou’s wit and valor when he saved you, emphasizing the fact that you would have possibly died if it weren’t for him. Eventually Natsuya’s hearing occurred and the court, obviously, found him guilty and sentenced him to life in prison. You shuddered every time you saw his face on the news, disgusted that he was your friend for so long and even your boyfriend for a short period of time. 

With the time that passed, you had officially stepped down from heroism for good. It hurt you that you couldn’t do what you loved so much any longer but you knew there was nothing else you could do. Your fellow heroes never stopped thanking you for all of your acts of services that you had done within your time of heroism. Along the way, everyone, including the public, was curious of what you planned to do with the rest of your life. You simply stated that you would use this time to try out news things and discover what truly made you happy.

“And with the sentence of previous Chief of Police, Yamashita Natsuya being released just yesterday, the case following Bakugou Katsuki, famously known as Ground Zero, and Yamashita’s true identity has been closed. The League has finally been dealt with through the authorities and we can all be reassured that these villainous acts will be stopped--” You shut the TV off, setting the remote on the kitchen counter as you continued to cook dinner.

It was all finally over, and with the end of the case your mind couldn’t help but wonder if it was all finally over for good. Despite hearing the case being closed and the conflict being resolved, it felt surreal to believe it was over. So many people had gotten hurt through the actions of the League and Bakugou was a part of this hurt as well, whether it was intentional or he was ordered to do so. Nonetheless, you knew that Natsuya was the real perpetrator behind the amount of pain and suffering he enacted onto people and was too much of a coward to be the face of the League like Bakugou was.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you pulled it out, revealing a text from Mina who wanted to inform you about her sleeping over Jirou’s house after running into her during a routine patrol. You sent her a quick reply before diverting your focus to your food, moving to pack the food that you had made for Mina as well for her to eat the next day. 

Two sturdy knocks sounded from the door and you stood in place, wondering who would stop by so late in the night. Thinking it was one of your friends, you moved to answer the door, swinging it wide open and gasping at the sight. 

Bakugou leaned against the door frame, dressed in all black as per usual. “Can I come in?”

You stood, dazed as you stared at him, taken aback as you weren’t expecting him to pay you a visit. In fact you hadn’t known that he was officially released from custody in the first place. Bakugou waved his hand in front of your face, shaking you out of your trance and thoughts. You cleared your throat, opening the door a little wider for him to come in. 

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, watching on as Bakugou walked towards your couch and took a seat. 

His crimson eyes looked around the area, finally seeing what your place looked like before he glanced back at you. You felt intimidated under his gaze, the images of your kiss with him and him saving you flashing in your mind. He gave you an odd look once seeing your flustered expression, not thinking anything of it. “I got released earlier and I’ve got no place to go right now. You’re the first person I thought of.”

“But how’d you know where I live?” You asked, plating your food from the frying pan. 

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You think that time I had Dabi burn down this street except for your apartment building was a coincidence?”

You chuckled, forgetting that encounter entirely in the first place. It seemed like ages ago when you had met Bakugou in the abandoned flower shop that was on your street. You could vividly recall the feelings of uncertainty and doubt that you felt about everything that was going on around you. You and your friends were beginning to lose hope after not hearing from Bakugou for ten years. Then with the encounters that you faced with him in the flower shops and Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero faced between Dabi in which Bakugou prevented Dabi from hurting them. Your uncertainty only grew with these encounters but your faith in his innocence increased as well. And here he was, sitting in your apartment as a free man.

“I see you haven’t changed at all since we were kids,” you teased, unpacking the food that you had planned to put away for Mina and deciding to serve it to Bakugou.

Bakugou smirked. “Nothing’s gonna change the way I act, not even having to fake being a villain for a decade or two.”

You laughed, approaching him on the couch with two plates in hand. Bakugou was taken aback, not expecting you to feed him as that wasn’t why he had come to your place. Nevertheless, he took the plate from you and watched as you took a seat beside him. 

“So is everything okay? The police and authorities are planning to let you go for good?” You asked, wanting to hear verbal confirmation on what you were hoping for.

Bakugou nodded, taking a bite from your food. He held back a smile that was teasing at the corner of his lips. Your cooking was just as good as it was back when you and the others would stop by your house after school just to taste your food. “I’m good. I’ve been told to lie low from the public for now since it’s gonna take some time for everyone to get used to seeing me in person than on the news.”

You nodded, understanding the circumstances. “And did they say anything about you being a hero?”

Bakugou’s eyes flitted over to you, pausing before setting his plate down on the coffee table. “They said they don’t know yet. I don’t blame ‘em, I mean what civilian wants to be saved from a man who was the leader of the fucking League until a few months ago.”

Bakugou leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his gaze averted to the table in front of him. He looked solemn, an expression you had never seen on his face. You set your own plate down, concerned with the sudden change in mood in the atmosphere. “I visited my folks for the first time in ten years. I’ve never seen my mom so pissed. Even my dad was mad. And yet my mom cried so fucking hard… I don’t think I’ve ever even seen her cry.”

Your brows furrowed as you could see how visibly distressed he was. “Katsuki…”

He brought his hand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples softly in an attempt to subside his aching head. “As happy as I was to see them, I felt annoyed with them. I was told that they lost hope in me after some time when they found out I was the leader of the League. And it fucking pissed me off. Aren’t parents supposed to have your back no matter what you do? Or am I just being a fucking idiot in thinking that?” Bakugou asked, rambling on to abate the tension he was feeling. He moved his hand down to his knee. “That’s when I realized I was in this alone, that no one was going to back me up. And no matter how many times I thought I was fine with it, I felt so fucking lonely. Until I met Watari, this old bastard that’s been helping me out and the first and only person I had told the truth about what was going on. He was the only one who had faith in me, who didn’t see me like I was some fucking monster.”

His scarlet eyes met yours and you felt a tug in your chest when noticing the pain behind his eyes. “And then I met you after ten years and I learned you still had faith in me. You believed in me when even my fucking parents didn’t. And for the longest time, I felt like everything would be okay.”

You leaned forward, closing the gap between you and Bakugou and enveloped him in your arms. Bakugou’s eyes widened, not even being able to recall the last time he was held like this, with someone attempting to comfort him. “Everything is okay, Katsuki. You finally don’t have to pretend to be someone that you’re not.”

Bakugou blinked away the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes, not wanting you to see him in a position that he deemed to be weak. He let out a breathless and humorless chuckle, his voice cracking slightly. “I just feel like I fucked up and did the wrong thing. I could’ve just been a regular kid and be a hero.”

“But you are a hero.” You pulled away, hands on his shoulders with the same reassuring smile that you always had on your face, the same smile that could make Bakugou fall head over heels for you all over again. “If it weren’t for you, the League would still be around causing havoc and hurting people left and right. But you infiltrated the group easily and did something as a kid that even some adults would never agree to do. You threw away your identity and your relationships, and you have no right to treat yourself like a criminal because you aren’t.”

A single tear fell from his left eye as he stared back at you in awe, unable to believe how you were so selfless and caring. You brought your thumb up and rubbed away the tear. Bakugou smiled back at you and you couldn’t recall the last time you had seen that smile. “I don’t fucking deserve you.”

You shook your head immediately. “No, you deserve more than me. You deserve the world and then some. Thanks to you, heroes will have a lighter workload and not have to deal with so many villains masquerading around as they were inspired by the League’s ‘mission.’ Even when I saw your face on the news numerous times, I never thought ill of you. I only wished that you were okay.”

Bakugou bit his bottom lip, trying to suppress the emotions he was holding in. He laughed once again, his signature smirk back on his face. “Now that the fucker who fucked us both over’s in prison, you’re officially single, right?”

You rolled your eyes, not surprised that he had ruined the moment by bringing up your atrocious ex-boyfriend. “Yes. The fact that you need to ask me that is annoying.”

Bakugou scoffed. “Just wanted to make sure before I did this.”

Before you could question him, Bakugou closed the even smaller gap between the two of you as he gingerly brought his lips to your own. You felt your body relax, your hands traveling around his neck and latching around him. His own hands found their way behind your back, pulling you even closer to him. Eventually he leaned back on the couch, hoisting you onto his lap and having you straddle him. He didn’t want to waste any time, annoyed that you had cut the previous kiss short because of Natsuya. 

But unlike the last time, Natsuya was the last person on your mind. All you could think of was Bakugou and his lips moving earnestly against yours. There wasn’t any pent up frustration or any other malicious feelings involved in this kiss. All you wanted was to be in his arms for as long as possible. 

This time Bakugou pulled away, peering back into your (E/C) eyes. You smiled, planting a kiss on his temple and pressing your forehead against his. “You’re not running away from me this time. I’m never letting you go, never again.”

Bakugou smirked, kissing you once again. “Looks like I’ll have to try harder then.”

You laughed, pulling away from him and leaning against his arms that were on your waist to hold you in his lap. You cupped his face in your hands. “I love you, Bakugou Katsuki. I’ve loved you for so long. It’s always been you, no one else.”

Bakugou’s felt the heat rising to his face as his cheeks flushed in a pink color. His smirk returned to his lips, pulling you in closer once more. “Damn right. And I love you.” You smiled, kissing him again and again and again.

For months you searched for what you could do with all the time that you had. Retired heroes approached you with various ideas and hobbies that they did once stepping down from their heroic jobs but none of them piqued your interest. You wanted something that could make you truly happy. And you had finally found it.

What made you truly happy was being beside Bakugou Katsuki, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Tagging: @chims-kookies​​ @bokunoheroes-stories​​ @iamthe-leaf​​ @simplysymphonic​​ @mylittlesunshineblog​​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​​ @sunflowerchild27​​ @geesshoku​​ @ghoularaki​​ @katsukiwonu​​ @kotakingly​​ @tyongflight​​ @sparkexplosive​​ @minniepresents​​ @thorohdamnson​​ @icy-hot​​ @bikinibrattoms​ @life-is-not-daijobu​

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

April has begun, a new month, a new start.

To celebrate the First of April, I've decided to embark on a new project. Some might say it's a little Foolish when I have so much else to do, but it must be done:

Fate: the Re-Winxed Saga!

We'll be starting off with a fixing of the reason Bloom ran away from home. I don't know about anyone else, but I always found it jarring how Bloom essentially had two sets of parents played by the same actors.

One pair were abusive a$$hats, on of whom thought their daughter was a freak, the other was basically a doormat with no opinions of their own, meanwhile the other couple were loving and “always knew she was meant for bigger things”.

So I've changed the reason behind Bloom's house burned down, and restored her artistic talents to her. There's nothing wrong with liking repairing old lamps, but we saw it once to point out how much of a “weirdo” she was, and then it was gone.

I've also added in a bit to explain how Farah found her, while maintaining Stella's OG presence in the scene.

I know there's a prequel book out (soon?) now that's supposed to fill in that blank, but I've just gone ahead with it.

Warnings for minor implications of sexual assault that never actually happened.

Here we go:

Fire\Starter

Bloom's sleep was fitful. 

She felt hot in her dreams, flushed with embarrassment and rage as Mitzy's obnoxious laugh played on infinite repeat. The condemning looks from her peers, from strangers on the street, plagued her like a thousand daggers.

In the waking world Bloom's body kicked back her sheets and writhed like she was fighting off an attacker.

In her dreams Bloom saw the sweetly deceitful face of Mitzy's cousin.

Bloom was an artist, she'd been drawing since she'd been young. Her art had won some competitions, small and local, but so important to her.

Important enough that her parents had bought her a graphics tablet for her birthday when all the other kids her age were getting bikes. It was the most expensive gift they'd ever gotten her.

She'd used it frequently, making digital art now alongside the more traditional paintings and sketches. She'd gotten good enough to be asked and paid for commissions.

And that's how Mitzy had managed to sneak her cousin in, to set a trap.

Moira had commissioned Bloom to make a 'tasteful nude' in 'that old European style, you know the one?' and Bloom hadn't thought anything of it. She'd let Moira into her home, into the converted solar-turned-art studio she'd been using for almost a full year now and...

Bloom had spent every day since cursing herself for not noticing the similarities. Moira and Mitzy looked so alike when you saw them together, Bloom didn't know how she'd missed it.

Maybe it was because Moira had smiled kindly, hidden her smirk and contempt better than Mitzy ever had.

Bloom had only touched Moira once, a gentle arm on the elbow to steady her while Moira was in her under garments, but the way she'd spun that into lies of assault...

Bloom could see it perfectly in her head, Moira laying casually on the couch of Bloom's studio, skin mostly bare and a sweet smile on her face.

In her dreams it warped into a smirk, lips cracking apart until Mitzy's laugh rolled out of the gaping maw. In her dreams, Bloom set Moira on fire.

Her rage, pure and true becomes an unstoppable flame, so hot it melts the walls, melts her tormentors skin. In the dream Bloom screams her rage and the world is consumed and-

-Bloom wakes, choking. She rolls to the side and tumbles from the sweat soaked mattress to the warm wooden floors of her room. Her gasping breaths drag the scent of smoke and paint into her lungs, but she ignores the remnants of her dream and tries to calm herself.

The scent doesn't fade.

It gets stronger.

Somewhere below her on the ground floor, glasses shatter and Bloom hears a familiar whoof. She'd heard it in her father’s educational videos on fire.

Her studio is on fire.

Her house is on fire!

“MUM! DAD!” Bloom screams as loud as she can, trying to remember what she's supposed to do. She tears her pillow case off her pillow, scrambles to put her laptop, graphics tablets and her three recharge cords into it before pulling her sheet free and wrapping it around herself.

She grabs her phone on the way out.

“MUM! DAD!”

Bloom makes her way to their room down the hall, the smoke in the air thickening.

“FIRE!!”

Her parents meet her at the door, their own sheet wrapped around them both to help filter the smoke, they have a few things as well.

Together they crouch down low and make their way down stairs, Bloom's father, Mike, already on his cell phone calling for the Fire Brigade.

They're almost free and clear when her mother, Vanessa, tries to head for the family office.

Bloom calls “mum, no!” at the same time her dad says “'Nessa stop!”  

But Vanessa darts away, just past the office door to grab a single box and out again, away from the spread of the fire.

Bloom feels a flicker of relief for half a second before something in the house explodes, letting out a torrent of flame in her mother's direction.

Bloom screams and flings out her hand as if she could do anything to stop what's about to happen.

For a heartbeat Bloom feels something well up inside her, something dark and powerful, and the wave of fire splits around her mother.

The trio stand, stunned, until Mike comes to his senses, “'Nessa, move!”

And they bolt to the door together, out onto the small lawn in time to see the lights of the fire trucks round the corner.  

-

In the days to come, they will recover the items which remain, few as they are. Bloom's childhood book of fairy stories was somehow untouched by the flames.

Mitzy will spread a new rumour about Bloom as part of her campaign to ruin Bloom's life, saying Bloom started the fire.

The investigation will rule it an accident, suspected faulty wiring in the art studio.

But Bloom knows, with an awful certainty: Mitzy was right for once, Bloom had started the fire somehow. She knows her parents suspect it too, but they won't say anything, not even about how Bloom had made the wave of fire part.

There's an elephant in the room now, it hovers awkwardly about their family, makes every conversation feel like trying to walk through broken glass in the dark without stepping on any.

Bloom tries not to go to sleep. She only makes it a few days before she finds herself constantly drifting off. Her parents watch her with fear, telling her to sleep.

But she can't, don't they understand that? What if she starts another fire?

She leaves their motel room, takes her phone and uses some of the money she earned from her art to by a sleeping bag and some snacks. Searches the internet for a place to stay with no people and as little flammable material as possible.

She finds an old warehouse that will do the trick. She buys a small fire extinguisher on her way there.

-

Her phone tells her she's slept for two days when she wakes up with a horrific dehydration headache.

She feels a little better for the sleep, she hasn't burned down the world while unconscious. There's a public showering area in a pool several blocks away, she manages to sneak in and get clean.

Begins to feel almost human again.

-

Bloom falls into a routine, sleeping in the warehouse, showering in the public washrooms, reading everything she can find on what the internet calls 'pyrokinesis'. The scientific side, or the fringe-science side of things feels wrong somehow.

She can't explain it, but something in her knows that's not the path she's looking for.

She tries folklore and myths instead. Feels pulled towards the stories of fae and dragons.

There's an abandoned quarry not far from town, and Bloom manages to make her way there with some candles, matches and her thankfully unused fire extinguisher.

She can't conjure fire, can't put it out, can't even provoke it. She's missing something, she knows, she can feel it.

Bloom comes across some 'majick' on one of the websites she finds looking for answers. A way to call a fae and force them to answer any questions you have. Bloom scoffs but takes a screenshot before backing out to another page.

Several days later she makes the mistake of looking at social media.

She's officially a runaway at this point, and Mitzy has used her absence to establish Bloom's guilt.

“Bloom burned her house down to fake her death to avoid facing charges of assault,” is the going theory.

It makes Bloom mad enough to set her sleeping bag on fire.

The following morning she buys a new one, and some things from the list of 'spell' ingredients. She's making no progress on her own, she's desperate.

Bloom returns to the quarry, she doesn't want the smell of incense in the warehouse, just in case. She fills a small bowl with water and a piece of quartz, waits for the moon to rise over head and does her best to match the google-translate’s reading of the 'some magical European language' the spell requires.

For a moment she sits, feeling like a fool, her eyes closed. Then she feels like she's falling.

Or flying?

There's a wind but it's intangible, a forest but it's colours are vibrant in a way Bloom's never seen, like they're leaking energy.

And then there's a tug, like someone has pulled her up short, and a woman with soft, pale brown hair and kind but curious eyes.

The woman opens her mouth but Bloom jerks back in shock, and startles so hard her leg flies out to knock over the bowl, spilling the water everywhere.

Bloom stays there for several long minutes, panting like she'd run a marathon, but then a real wind blows and her damp jeans go cold against her skin. She packs everything up and runs back to the almost safety of her warehouse.

-

Bloom is awoken by the sound of the warehouse door opening and closing. She's confused for a moment before the sound of two sets of footsteps has her scrambling upright, and out of her sleeping bag.

It's the woman from Bloom's... spell? Vision?

She smiles at Bloom, and Bloom feels herself relax.

“Hello, I'm Farah Dowling,” she gestures to herself. Behind Farah, a young woman, blonde and roughly to same age and nervousness level as Bloom, clears her throat slightly, so Farah Dowling adds: “And this is Stella,” Stella waves, “we're here to help you, if you'll let us?”

Bloom knows better than to trust strangers, but this woman had been in her vision.

“You can help me?” Bloom asks, her voice sounding far smaller and unused than she was expecting.

“I'd certainly like to try,” Farah says kindly, her hand reaching out to Bloom, letting Bloom make the choice.

Bloom gathers her things and takes Farah Dowling's hand, Farah squeezes it gently, it's comforting. Bloom sobs as she realises this is the first real human contact she's had in... weeks now.

“Come on,” Farah and Stella return to the warehouse door, “Stella, if you could?”

“Yes Miss Dowling,” Stella gives Bloom a quick eyebrow wiggle, like she's about to show off, and places her hand on the door.

'She has nice hands,' Bloom thinks distantly as the large sunburst ring on Stella's finger glows golden, the light spreading out to coat the door and it's frame.

When Stella opens it, the door no longer leads outside the warehouse, but out into a verdant forest. Bloom can smell the leaf litter, there's the smell of moisture, like there's rain about to fall.

Stella steps through into the forest, holding the door open for Farah and Bloom to follow.

“Welcome to Avalon,” Stella says as she sweeps out an arm to indicate the trees around her, “home of Alfea school for Heroics and Fairies.”

“Fairies?” Bloom can feel herself smiling, excitement building. Her parents had always affectionately despaired at her life long obsession with the mythological creatures.

...her parents...

Bloom wavered.

“Can, can I just have a moment to text my parents?” Bloom looks between the two... women? Fairies? She's afraid that any second this will turn out to be a dream, or worse, real and she'll somehow throw away her chance.

“Of course,” Farah says, her voice full of understanding, “take all the time you need.”

“As long as you only need ten minutes,” Stella cuts in, “because that's how much longer I can hold this doorway open.”

Farah gives Stella a fond but exasperated look.

Bloom shakes her head, “I only need two minutes, tops.” She pulls out her phone, spends thirty seconds undoing the call blocker and sends her text before reinstalling the blocker, too scared to hear her parents reply.

What if it was “stay gone”?

“I'm ready,” Bloom says, and Farah ushers her through into Avalon.

-

[I'm OK. Sorting some things out. I Love You Both.]

Mike and Vanessa almost collapse in relief, their baby girl is alright. They tell the police to stop actively looking for Bloom, but to keep an eye out, and to tell her they miss her if she's seen.

The pray she'll come home on her own.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Writing Commission Information + Terms of Service

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Overwatch: All characters, including non-playable ones.

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Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing (If Applicable): Mercy x Reader

Characters: Mercy, Reader Insert

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Word Count/Price: 1,500 Words, $15

Prompt: Mercy comforting a reader who’s had a bad day. Just something warm and fluffy. Please and thank you!

Notes: Gender neutral reader, please.

[yukiobeyme]

Chapter 1 of that Slow Burn

I got three likes one that post and @aguacats said they would read it soooo Here is the first chapter! I have changed the brothers name or some of them because it suppose to be a Modern NonDemon! AU And having a kid name Satan might not fly lol. But This first chapter or so builds and lets us see how hectic and crazy Lucifer’s (Lucien in the fic) life is as he takes care of his 18 month old and his 5 younger brothers. I am honestly really proud how it has turned out so far... But if anyone wants to read then talk to me about it hmu

Lucien woke with a start, his 5 am alarm came too soon. Lucien only took a moment to look at the ceiling before moving to turn off his alarm. Lucien had to move carefully, remembering that his son had joined him in his bed last night after being fussy and not being able to fall asleep. It was also officially the start of a new school year for his brothers, he would have to get up and help them prepare for a successful first day.

Lucien got up slowly making sure not to jolt his son too much, he gently scooped Seadna up before placing him back in his toddler bed. Lucien took a moment to watch how peaceful his son looked deep in sleep, and even in his sleep Seadna seemed to have a permanent scold on his face.

Lucien moved to his bathroom to shower, letting the hot water warm his body and help to relax the stresses that were already settling in his muscles. Once he was done, he quickly dried off, forgoing blowing drying and styling his hair until later. By the time he hit the kitchen, it was a quarter to six. Lucien moved around his kitchen, starting the coffee pot, packing the twins’ and Asmo’s lunches and started pulling various items for breakfast.

Lucien started up the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible knowing how loud the stairs can get. He first stopped at his kid brother, Levi’s, door. Lucien firmly knocked before cracking the door and peering in, “Levi,” Lucien said softly at first, raising his voice slightly his second time. He watched his brother stir and mutter unintelligently in response. “It’s your first day of college classes,” that statement from Lucien seemed to be what really woke Levi up. Levi sat up with a groan and Lucien met it with a chuckle. “I’ll see you downstairs soon,” Lucien said as he closed the door behind in.

Lucien could hear a loud rock alarm go off down the hall. It took everything in Lucien not to pinch his nose in frustration. “Mammon,” Lucien was just shy of yelling and pounded on the next bedroom door. Lucien heard a thumping sound before scrambling to turn off the alarm. The door then flew open with a shirtless and very disheveled Mammon appearing behind it. Mammon seems to wake up more once he saw his older brother looking at him. “Whadda you want?” Mammon asked gruffly and still filled with sleep. “Well, your alarm was going off, if you need the reminder there is an 18-month-old in the house who I would prefer to stay asleep a little longer and I believe you signed up to take some classes this semester. Levi is already up, and you might as well go together,” Lucien spelled out the answer more than need, but Lucien hasn’t managed to have a single sip of coffee yet and he always seemed to reach his limit with Mammon quickly. Mammon simply nodded and muttered thanks before he headed off to get ready for his day.

Asmo was always the easiest brother to wake up, because he was now 15 and cared tremendously about how he looked, Lucien knocked on his door before cracking it open and calling out to him to make sure he was up. The twins were both 10, so Lucien knocked on the door before actually entering their rooms. One the right side was Beelz’s bed and left was Belphie’s. Knowing that Beelz would be the easier of the two to wake up, Lucien made his way over before dropping down to the bed and gently shaking Beelz awake. “Good Morning, first day of classes,” Lucien said once he saw Beelz was up. Beelz sat up and gently rested his head on Lucien’s arm. Lucien patted his head with a chuckle as he rose to wake up the sleep loving twin. “Belphie”, Lucien said softly, gently shaking his shoulder. “No,” was the only response Lucien got as Belphie tried to wrap himself tighter in his blanket and roll away from Lucien. “Belphie, please don’t do this,” Lucien said grabbing at the blankets. Belphie struggled back against the blankets and Lucien was already starting to feel tired but was trying to keep his cool. “I’ve got him, Lucien!” Beelz finally said as he sprang from bed, Lucien couldn’t help but marvel at the energy Beelz had in the morning. It almost put Asmo’s fun-loving energy to shame. Lucien flashed Beelz a grateful look as he rose and headed to the door, “Breakfast will be ready in 5,” and with that Lucien closed the door and was able to head back downstairs.

Levi was already downstairs and as if he was an angel, he had started the twins’ and Asmo breakfast. Toast coming out of the toaster and being plates alongside fruit and had pulled out the cereals that boys tended to lean towards. What Lucien didn’t expect Levi to look up and walk over to him to hand him his morning coffee, black coffee with two sugars, Lucien took a deep breath, taking in the delicious smell before taking his first sip. “Thank you so much,” Lucien said looking up as sincerely as possible.

Lucien heard the clobbering down the stairs, and the excited voice of Asmo and Beelz and the soft whines of Belphie. He even hears Mammon behind him, something Lucien quickly thanked God for. “Breakfast?” Levi asked him, holding up two pieces of bread wondering if he should throw them in the toaster or not. Lucien looked hesitant at the offering but decided to nod anyways. Not knowing if he will actually be able to stomach the food this early. Lucien looked up when he heard the back-door slam shut, but soon Mammon came to view looking exasperated. “Your dog is a demon, I swear Lucien,” Mammon panted before leaning down and unhooking Ceberus’ lease. Cerberus immediately trotted over to Lucien for his morning petting. Lucien could help but chuckle at his dog, who after got all the attention he wanted curled up at Lucien’s feet. Lucien ended up only eating half a piece of toast before he started to run around as his brothers ate, getting himself ready and then Seadna woke up grumpy. Seadna was demanding Lucien’s attention, so with his child on his hip, Lucien went along with making sure everyone got ready. Waving off Levi and Mammon. Then getting Seadna fully dressed, fed, and ready then to wait with Asmodeus and the twins at their bus spot and make sure they got on the bus safely.

 “Now what are we going to do today?” Lucien asked Seadna, knowing he wouldn’t answer but Lucien tended to engage Seadna in conversations anyways, it was supposedly good for him. Lucien slowly walked back to the house, appreciating the view as it came to view. Taking the moment to take a deep breath before he headed back inside. Grabbing more coffee, Lucien took Seadna with him to his personal study. Lucien set Seadna down in his corner, which had toys, crafts, and picture books. The books were by far Seadna’s favorite thing. Lucien needed to go out soon and buy more, while Seadna couldn’t read, he seemed to prefer the big encyclopedias books and just stare at the pictures. Right now, it seemed Seadna enjoyed cats, which is ironic seeing they only had a black Shepard.

Lucien glanced at the framed diploma on the wall, it was his Master of Science in Finance. He currently did freelance work, which was a relief so he can still spend the day with his son and be around for his brothers. It was also tax season, which was Lucien’s saving grace. He offered his services and promised he wanted no commissions, just one fee, which had people flocking to him. He currently had two taxes to do and analyzing the market a business that is wanted to sell a new product but doesn’t know the demand.

Lucien couldn’t exactly lose himself in his work, having to occasionally look up to ensure Seadna was doing okay and still content. Seadna was thankfully able to keep himself entertained without much help from others. It was around 10am before Seadna seemed to get a little restless, finally getting up and making his way to Lucien’s desk.

“Up,” Seadna said tugging on Lucien’s pants leg before making a grabbing hand motion. “UP,” Seadna repeated louder sounding frustrated. Lucien tried to tell him no, but it only seemed to upset him more, with a sigh, Lucien scooped Seadna up and placed him on his lap. Seadna seemed to settle for a bit and even nodding off a bit.

“Why don’t we set you down for a nap?” Lucien said quietly as he hummed and stood to take Seadna to his room. Lucien gently tucked Seadna in and even brushed his hair back before leaning down and pressing a small kiss his child’s forehead.

Lucien went back to his desk, checking on his emails when he sees he has a new tax request. The name seems vaguely familiar Diago Rey. It took a moment, but it clicked, this was the headmaster of RAD’s son. Lucien looked over the information and frowned a little when he began to look over Diago’s summary of the numbers, as well as seeing that Diago would prefer to meet in person while Lucien did taxes instead of just meeting once Lucien was done to go over the numbers. Lucien closed out of the email, unsure of how to reply, and stared blankly at his computer screen. With a sigh, Lucien shook his head and dived into another tax form that didn’t request a ridiculous meeting. Lucien got lost in the form and the numbers, humming gently, and smiling to himself as he let himself get absorbed in the form.

His focus was broken when he heard, “Dada,” from the front of his study and he looked up to see Seadna with his blanket in hand and held close to his face.

“Yes Pwca?” Lucien hummed but turned his full attention to him.

“Hungry, want food,” Seadna walked closer and clung to Lucien’s pants. Lucien glanced at the time and was surprised to see it was passed noon, a completely reasonable time for lunch and Lucien recalls that Levi and Mammon should be home soon.

“Yes, why don’t we have lunch?” Lucien scooped Seadna up and carried him to the kitchen. Lucien set Seadna down in his highchair that faced the kitchen, so Seadna could watch Lucien prepare food. For Seadna, Lucien prepared a simple pb&j with carrots and ranch to the side and for Levi and Mammon generic turkey sandwiches. As Lucien made the lunches, he talked to Seadna about random things, knowing that talking to your kid like an adult helps promote language development.

“We are home!” Lucien flinched when he heard the door slam against the wall and Mammon’s loud voice.

“Mammon!” Lucien called back; his voice filled with warning. He turned around to watch Mammon nervously glance around before spotting Lucien at the counter.

“Good day?” Lucien asked as he placed Seadna’s lunch in front of him and turned around to grab the other two sandwiches and presented them to Mammon and Levi. They both muttered thanks before sitting down at the table.

“It was good, syllabus day ya know?” Levi replied before taking a mouth full of turkey and Mammon nodded his head furiously already taken a huge bite of his sandwich.

“Will you watch Seadna for me? I need to take Ceberus out,” Lucien looked between his younger brothers and his son. Levi gave Lucien a nod and Lucien went off to grab the leash. By the time Lucien had the leash off the hanger, Ceberus had trotted over and was seated at Lucien’s feet.

“Ready to go out?” Lucien asked Ceberus as he clipped the leash onto Ceberus’ collar, and Ceberus sprung to life and was ready to bound out the door. Lucien took his time walking Ceberus, being the only time away from the house without his kid and the only one on one time he got with Ceberus anymore. Lucien allowed his mind to wander, how he used to take Ceberus for runs and how stopping the running habit has taken toll on Lucien’s body. Lucien frowned at the thought and quickly pushed it to the back of his head, thinking back to Diago’s email and how he needs to respond soon. When they got back to the house, Lucien dropped down and gave Ceberus a rub down, before unclipping his leash and sending him inside. Stepping inside after Ceberus and headed towards the kitchen; he was surprised to see Mammon had taken Seadna out of his highchair and was seated in the living room telling a story enthusiastically with some of Seadna’s toys. Lucien smiled but stopped himself from pausing for too long and continued to the kitchen to see that Levi was cleaning the dishes for lunch.

“Did someone not eat?” Lucien asked giving Levi a confused look and gestured to the lone sandwich.

“Yea, you,” Levi replied nonchalantly, though he gave Lucien a pointed look. “Eat and get back to work, we will look after the little squirt,” Levi flashed Lucien a smile as he turned off the tap and dried his hands on the towel. Lucien nodded, he eyed the sandwich and made a face but picked it up anyways and carried it to his office. At first the sandwich was set to the far side of his desk and Lucien went back to finalizing the tax form from earlier. Once he sent it off to the client, with details and a request to meet in person to go over it; he glanced back up at the sandwich. Lucien brought it closer and tore a small piece off and popped it in his mouth, before looking back at his emails. Lucien opened Diago’s message and stared at it, trying to figure out what to say.

 Mr. Rey,

I greatly appreciate you reaching out to me to do your tax forms.

I must say that I usually don’t meet with my clients until after I have finished the forms and we meet to review them. If you believe it is a must, that we meet while I fill out the tax forms please let me know and we can schedule a meeting.

Thank you again for reaching out to me to do your tax forms

Regards,

Lucien Septem, M.S.

Some College, Finance 2017

Lucien quickly proofread the email before sending it off, Lucien continued to pick at his sandwich and was surprised when he heard his email notification go off. He was even more surprised to see it was Mr. King.

Mr. Septem,

I would prefer to meet with you, how about either during my lunch break or the weekend at the local coffee shop?

Beelz and Belphie sure are a pair and get along great together. They are a joy to have in class.

Diago

Lucien was torn on which part of the email to focus on, Beelz and Belphie or the fact Diago wants to meet him in person. Lucien hasn’t seen Diago in years, Diago was the Freshman quarterback when Lucien was a Junior. They were in two different cliques and in a way, they were from two different worlds. Lucien was absolutely positive that Diago didn’t know he existed until recently when his parents passed away due to a tragic car accident. Lucien sent back an email, saying that the weekend would be the best for him. Lucien’s head jerked up when he heard a knock on his door, it was Levi. “It almost time for the bus to come by, do you want to go, or do you need to work?”

“I’ll go, I just finished,” Lucien rose and shut down his computer. It turns out that Levi and Mammon had planned to go pick up the brothers. For some reason, Lucien couldn’t help the small smile that came to his face when he realized all the older brothers would be greeting the younger brothers back from this first day of school. Asmodeus and Beelz sprung off the bus in excitement, rambling on the first day of school and dragging Levi and Mammon back towards the house. Lucien waited for a much calmer and slower Belphie. Lucien offered to take Belphie’s bag with one hand, while holding Seadna in the other.

“Good day, kiddo?” Lucien asked, stealing a glance at Belphie.

“Mhmm,” Belphie nodded sleepily, Lucien couldn’t help but feel bad. Ever since their parent’s death, Belphie had trouble sleeping and seemed to be permanently tired. They continued on with small talk as they walked back to the house, Lucien smiled when he saw that Beelz was waiting outside the front door waiting for them.

“Lucien!” Beelz yelled as he made a mad dash to him and launched into a retelling of his and Belphie’s day. Lucien chuckled but allowed Beelz to continue on, once they have entered; Lucien placed Seadna down in the living room with Mammon and Levi and dropped Belphie bag on the table by Lou’s and Beelz’. Alois was at the sink, already having his and Beelz’ lunchbox on the counter and washing off the icepack and water cups.

“Thank you, Alois,” Lucien said as he opened Belphie’s bag to grab his lunchbox. “I can finish it from here, thank you” Lucien said gently shooing Alois to the side.

“Good day? Any homework?” Lucien asked, noticing how Beelz and Belphie had joined them in the kitchen.

“Yep, just the standard signature stuff,” Asmodeus replied, looking up at Lucien, “What about you, Lucien? Did you have a good day?”

“Me? I guess, just the same old same old,” Lucien shrugged as he put the last of the dishes in the drying rack and dried off his hands.

“Go ahead and pull out everything I need to sign, I’ll do it after dinner,” Lucien walked over to the boys and watched them dig through folders and binders to grab the needed paperwork.

“I’ll go put them in your office!” Asmo sang as he grabbed Beelz and Belphie’s papers and headed off.

Lucien collected the abandoned backpack off the table and walked to the living and placed them by the front door for his brothers to collect later. He snagged Seadna from Levi and joined them in watching the random sports channel that Mammon and Beelz agreed on. It was nice to sit with his brothers and his son for a bit and join in with their mindless chatting, before Lucien had to excuse himself to start dinner. Levi got up to join him, making a noise when Mammon shoved him out of the way of the TV.

“What are we making?” Levi asked as he watched Lucien pulled out ingredients from the fridge and grab a cutting board and a knife.

“Veggie Stir fry. You wash, I’ll cut?” Lucien looked up at Levi, Levi nodded and went over to the sink and began to prepare the vegetables, so Lucien could cut them and throw them in a pan that was heating on the stove.

“Lucien, I am going to take Ceberus out!” Asmodeus called from the living room, “Be careful!” Lucien called back as he heard the door shut.

“We really need to get that fence built in the backyard,” Levi commented as he turned off the tap and went to the cabinets to grab the seasonings needed for the dish.

“Yea, I know. But money is still tight,” Lucien signed and dropped his head, feeling guilty that he was admitting this to his younger brother.

“Hey, it’s okay, you are doing your best,” Levi knocked their shoulders together, “If need be I can put off school and get a job to help out,” Levi offered but Lucien quickly shook his head.

“No, I couldn’t ask that from you or Mammon, for that matter. Thank you though,” Lucien hoped his voice sounded as sincere as he wanted it. The rest of dinner was finished in quiet, other than Asmodeus yelling that he was back with Ceberus.

“Dinner!” Lucifer called, as Levi and he finished setting the table. He watched as his brother’s rushed in Beelz was first, dragging along a sleepy Belphie and Mammon brought up the rear, holding Seadna to pass off to Lucien. Once they were all seated, the twins led them through blessing the meal before they all dived into their meals. The twins and Alois talked more about their day and Lucien listened intently as he merely picked at his dinner.

“Mr. Rey class was the best!” Beelz exclaimed, and Lucifer immediately took interest.

“What class does Mr. Rey teach? Lucien asked, setting down his fork and look down the table at Beelz.

“He teaches English for the underclassmen,” Alois answered, saving Beelz from having to talk with his mouth full.

“He said that Beelz and I would like the first novel we read in class,” Belphie supplied looking sleepily over to Lucien.

“What is your first novel you are reading?” Lucien asked curious, Beelz has never been the biggest reader and Belphegor has his interests that he could read about all day. So, the idea of a book they would both enjoyed seemed sacred.

“Lord of the Flies,” Beelz spoke up after finishing his mouth full of food. The three older brothers all snorted at the answer and gave one another an amused look.

“What?” Beelz looked between his oldest brothers, not understanding their reaction.

“Nothing, It’s a pretty good book. I think maybe a little advance for fourth graders,” Lucien gave him a reassuring smile.

“Why are you so interested about Mr. Rey,” Alois asked giving Lucien a smug look.

“I got an email from him today” Lucien quickly reply, shutting down Alois notations, “It was worked related, but he did talk about the twins are a joy to have already,”. Beelz flashed Lucien his signature smile before diving back into his food.

“Oh… well he is single,” Alois sang, fluttering his eyelashes at Lucien, causing him to chock on his food.

“Alois,” Lucien raised his voice giving him a warning look.

“It’s true, he has a love win flag too,” Alois shrugged completely ignoring Lucien shouting at him. Much to Lucien’s relief dinner finishes without another hitch.

[a-world-in-grey]

Jumping off my previous post about Galahdian colors associated with the various Astrals - I’ve got headcanons about Sola and Galahdian art. And Galahdian art. And Sola and art in general.

.

-Sola’s first introduction to fine art is her mother. Aulea teaches Sola to weave tapestries, and Sola’s first creation is a simple yellow sun on a black background.

-Sola’s second creation is more complex, a scene of the night sky, with moon and clouds and stars, meant to be a gift for her new baby brother. It never makes it to the loom. Sola sets the project aside when Aulea falls ill and abandons it - and her loom - completely following Aulea’s death.

-Despite refusing to enter Aulea’s workroom - still maintained on Regis’ orders in hope his daughter will one day continue her brief but well-loved hobby - Sola never loses her love of art. She has an entire shelf dedicated to old sketchbooks, of people and places captured in sweeping lines of pencil. Unlike her tapestries, Sola is much more private regarding her sketches. The few sketches anyone ever sees however bear a remarkable likeness to the cartoons used to make tapestries.

-(Even when she takes up colored pencils, Sola’s drawings look so much like potential tapestries that Regis cannot help but hope. His daughter is always far more interested in the tapestries decorating the Hall of Arts than the numerous sculptures and paintings.)

-But Regis knows better than to push his daughter. If Sola ever takes up the loom, it must be her idea. It doesn’t stop him from encouraging Sola to pursue a degree in art, after she finishes her high school education. Even if Sola protests that it’s not a ‘useful’ degree, but Regis is firm when he tells her that she should study what she loves. Noctis chiming in with his agreement seals the deal.

-And Sola loves it. Sure, it’s distant learning or online courses while she’s deployed with the rest of Fourth Company, but contrary to popular belief deployment is not actually all that exciting. ‘Hurry up and wait’ is an accurate statement and most of Sola’s time is spent on routine but mundane tasks. It’s not actually that difficult to keep up with her first-year course work in the field, even over the year spent at the frontline hotspots.

-Then Sola gets adopted into the Furia Clan, and is introduced to Galahdian Culture, including the color code she had no idea existed before Tredd taught her. And suddenly, going into her second year of college, Sola finds herself actually seeing Galahdian art and all the breathtaking nuances and symbolisms she never had an inkling of before. She is an Awe.

-The first semester of her second year is also when Sola has her history of art class. It’s the first of several classes that piss her off.

-Look, Insomnians are elitist. Especially in the academic circles. Especially in art. Sola’s art history class covers Niflheim, Tenebrae, Accordo, and Lucis, but doesn’t mention Galahd beyond a couple pages in her textbook. And even that only glances over the types of art Galahd ‘was known to produce,’ as though it’s a primitive and ancient but extinct culture. When Sola asks about it in class, her professor dismisses the notion that Galahdian art is as ‘refined’ or ‘cultured’ as the other cultures being studied.

-Sola is offended. And suddenly, intimately aware of being the only Galahdian in her class. In any of her classes.

-And well, Sola has always run on Spite.

-By this point, Sola’s moved in with Crowe down in Little Galahd, and Sola spends hours with the various Clans. With the Lazarus, the Furia, the Canere, the Tibiae, the Ornata, learning from the Elders and the masters everything she possibly can about Galahdian art. The Tales, the Songs, the meanings. She gets her first Galadhian tattoo - a delicate pattern of black dragon scales beneath one eye.

-When she’s not in Little Galahd, Sola’s at the Citadel, in Aulea’s old workroom. Regis very nearly cries the first time a servant tells him of Sola entering the room, and he arrives to find Sola at Aulea’s old loom, sorting through the skeins of colored thread, so focused on her task that she entirely misses Regis gawking in the doorway.

-It’s sheer Spite that leads Sola to gain her undergraduate degree early. It’s that same Spite that leads Sola to build her senior portfolio with nothing but Galahdian art. Paintings, drawings, prints, ceramics, jewelry, etc, all of it is Galahdian. Her professors are scandalized - how dare the Princess scorn the ‘more refined’ art styles for such a ‘primitive’ culture - especially because Sola’s artwork is no less skilled than her classmates so they can’t legitimately dock her grade.

-Sola is Smug.

-Sola is even more Smug when she starts finishing her various tapestries. Because she doesn’t tell anyone that she’s the one making them. Two show up in Glaive HQ, one of Galahd and one of Little Galahd, hanging on the walls with no clue as to who put them there. A third tapestry shows up a year after that in the Hall of Portraits as Sola’s Official Portrait, and a year after that the fourth one shows up publically in the Hall of Arts, a massive tapestry depicting the War of the Astrals, done in the most unconventional color choices the public has ever seen, but a beautiful masterwork nonetheless.

-It’s at that point the Galahdians clue into the fact that the mystery tapestry weaver is also Galahdian, because the tapestry depicts the Galahdian Tale rather than the mainlander Cosmogony, with the Galahdian color associations included.

-Somehow everyone misses twenty-three year old Sola getting her fingers tattooed with the tattoos of a master weaver. Rather, no one manages to put two and two together, but Sola attributes that to how the Galahdians are in a daze at seeing such a large and beautiful piece of Galahdian art so prominently displayed in the Hall of Arts. Half the Lazarus Clan actually cry.

-(The only person to know that the tapestries were made by Sola is Regis, because he still has Sola’s first tapestry hung in his office, and he knows Sola’s maker’s mark. But Sola hasn’t said anything, so he’s not going to spoil her fun.)

-(It’s certainly not because he’s also highly amused. Shhh.)

-Sola greatly enjoys the sheer outrage when Libertus’ portrait and their wedding portrait join Sola’s in the Hall of Portraits two years after their wedding and everyone learns that Sola is the weaver. And even then that fact only comes out because one of the nobles sneers about the royal family’s lack of taste regarding recent art commissions.

-(Regis does try to protect Sola’s anonymity, pointing out that the weaver was a student of his wife, which does shut up most of the nobles because the late queen was a master of her craft and only an idiot would say otherwise. It’s when one particularly stubborn noble insists that no immigrant could match the skill of an Insomnian native that Sola speaks up, icily informing the asshole that she wove the tapestries and of course she’s not as good as her mother, she only earned her Mastery a couple years back. Of course, given the skill the of the Lazarus master-weavers, Sola is certain that her mother would have begged to learn from them, because those are unparalleled works of art.)

-The Kingsglaive collectively screech at Sola. They’ve been trying to figure out where those tapestries came from for years, and not once did Sola say anything!

-Sola just laughs.

[ninjakasuga]

Sonsal Celebration Day 6

Day Six of the celebration of best furry couple by @boundforfreedomsonsal continues! Admittedly I’ve been watching eagerly for this day as this was honestly the first of the prompts I worked on. Having finished reading @archiesoniconline ‘s fan-project version of issue 249 and 250 (in which Sally was deroboticized huzzah) and the signs of Sally dealing with the obvious aftermath; I was inspired. Add in inspiration from a few pages of Glitcher’s Sonic Retold series, and well I had material to work with. I recommend if you want to see a faithful fan continuation of the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic era give ASO, a shot or even pay Glitcher’s DA page ( https://www.deviantart.com/glitcher ) a visit. Since the old comics are never going to see an official revisit we fans are the only ones who will see our beloved characters flourish so give these guys and other fan projects a looksie! Also the lovely, AMAZING art work provided for this prompt was by the amazing @foxinadress​  seriously this amazing artist deserves praise. I recommend not only giving his Tumblr a visit but check their various art platforms and Patreon.

One last Author note; there is some pushing of the PG-13 as per usual, but at this point you guys expect that from me. XD Also while this takes place in my little Sonic fic-verse, it’s out of chronological order, taking place between the Double Date and Surprise prompt episodes.

HURT:

Looking out at the forest beyond Sally Acorn didn’t seem to pay mind to the setting sun, nor did she react to the sounds of the far off cheers coming from the city nearby. There was a lot to celebrate, between the Deathegg being put out of commission, for Naugus being exposed and dealt with, everyone was in a party mood. As much as she didn’t care to dwell on it, the Princess knew a chunk of the celebration was for her own safe return after spending a few months as Mecha Sally.

A few horrible, painful months where she felt like she was trapped inside her own body, unable to do anything but the screaming impulses of Eggman’s whim. She’d be lying if she didn’t thoroughly enjoy seeing his shattered expression as he fled from the Deathegg as the vile creation was torn apart by explosions before crashing into one of his bases it was poised above. It almost made up for the hell she endured.

Yet that joy felt somehow hollow still and it bugged her incessantly. She was back home, her friends and family safe, the Kingdom was safe, and yet… Sally couldn’t fully feel right. She did not feel like she deserved to be there, enjoying the celebration with everyone else. The squirrel-munk hated how she felt, not when her friends, and especially a certain Hedgehog, fought like hell to get her back. Closing her eyes Sally felt the raging memories she tried to suppress coming back. Of her time as Mecha-Sally, from being used as a tool to harm, maim, and kill her friends. Thankfully the latter never happened, but plenty of the former happened; and then there was the recollection of when she was weaponized.

A deep shudder ran through her as she curled her legs closer to her chest, her breathing reaching almost hyperventilating levels as she tried to fight down the terror and panic. By the Neo-Walkers, the Almighty, and any Deity that truly was out there, it was like watching someone dismember you and be AWAKE through it all! In lieu of blood was oil, and yet every part ripped out might as well have been an appendage or organ! While a Robian was made of wires and metal they still had a ‘core’ representing their life-force. When Eggman was taking her apart and enjoying it, her ‘core vitals’ went crazy as if even as a machine her body and true mind knew of the violation being done to her. She nearly died just because Eggman wanted to be sadistic as he prepped her to be a killing machine against all she loved.

Even a week after being deroboticized, she couldn’t shake those vague but potent recollections. Sally was able to suppress and bury most of her trauma by focusing on deposing Naugus before he took the Kingdom down with him, but now that she was left alone to her thoughts; she couldn’t drown it all out.

So lost in her own mind, her ears didn’t even twitch as a familiar ‘sonic-boom’ echoed nearby, signaling the arrival of a certain someone. The flag on the pole she sat beside on the hill of FF Headquarters, began to wave and bob from the sudden gust of wind, along with her hair and vest. Yet Sally didn’t truly seem to pay attention any until a warm hand, gently settled on her shoulder.

“Yo Sal, you okay?! You’re shaking all over!” A concerned voice uttered as the hand moved from her shoulder, and now two entire arms began to gently wrap around her, pulling her into the lap of the owner of said arms. At the feel of his warmth behind her back, Sally instinctively nestled against him, and let out a shaky breath. “I-I’m okay Sonic, jus-just a little chilly is all.”

“Bullshi-er-baloney…” Quipped back the fastest Hedgehog alive as he self-censored himself from uttering a more potent and crass choice of phrase. As he gently rested his chin atop her head, Sonic softly began to gently sway his body, rocking Sally in their embrace as he sought to help her deal with her woes. “You can’t pull a fast one over on me, I know you Sally, and this?” He gestured to her entirely. “This ain’t the wind giving you chills.” His usual jovial tone was dialed all the way to deep concern as his hands remained locked around her waist. “Talk to me Sal, please talk to me.”

Swallowing hard, Sally none-the-less tried to ease his concern with false-assurance. Not easy when those emerald orbs looked at her like that. She loved his eyes but the way he looked at her with concern and love, it almost made things feel worse because she didn’t want him to worry about her. “It’s just a little shake, and bad memories I’ll be fine-.” Interrupting her, Sonic kept his tone even, but a firmness trickled in. “Sally, don’t play this off. Now isn’t the time to pretend you’re not hurting. We sent Naugus packin’ and Egg-butt is still reeling from his toys being broken. Right now the only thing this Hedgehog cares about is the well-being of the woman in my arms. You, numero uno, the one and only Princess Sally, Acorn. The woman I love.” His hand traced along her cheek, making her lip quiver. “You’re hurting, let me help you Sal, right now we have nothing to worry about but us right now. Don’t shut me out, not this time, or ever, please. Now’s the time to let it all out because we dunno when we might get another break.”

His pleas tugged at her heart-strings, his devotion and love for her making her feel wonderful; yet awful at the same time with how her conflicted mind felt. Yet those words she didn’t know she needed to hear, eroded what resistance had been left in Sally. She crumbled like a dam that had burst after too much neglect. Turning her body in his embrace, she buried her face into his neck and sobbed, and just gushed, everything in her spilling out in tandem with the hot tears, leaking from her eyes. “I still remember being weaponized, being taken apart piece by piece, Eggman not caring if he nearly killed me in the process. I saw my own limbs and other pieces just, discarded as he smiled and hummed to music!” A deep shudder ran through her body as she clung to Sonic even more. She began to hiccup but kept talking. “Then he sent me out after everyone… I wish it was a blur, but every image is potently burned into my brain! I remember being used against everyone… I-I almost killed you, my brother, Lupe, Antoine, everyone I cared for and loved… How I managed to not kill anyone I don’t know!”

Shaking her grip on him tightened as more hot tears rolled from her eyes, matting the fur of his shoulder and neck. “When I wasn’t out in the field he made plan out methods to attack the Kingdom, or how to use my knowledge of my friends to use psychological warfare to break you all… I was even tasked to come up with methods to-to assassinate everyone!” Her voice grew hoarse as the lump in her throat got worse, along with the hiccuping. “I made fifty plans for you alone…” 

Deep, burning anger, filled Sonic as much as his desire to comfort and console his best friend and love of his life. The latter won out, and so he mentally filed away his desire to race to wherever Eggman ran off too for the time being and pound his face into jelly. A rage that surpassed the killing desire he felt when fighting the original Robotnik one last time just burned in him, to the point it scared him. Mentally berating himself, Sonic tried to refocus his mind. Sally needed him, and not off fulfilling a vendetta. With one hand, he began to rub up and down her back gently, as the other rested against the back of her head; stroking her auburn tresses as she sobbed against him. “Oh, Sally…” Sonic wanted to make the pain all go away, but knowing he couldn’t just snap a finger and do so, the Hedgehog continued to cradle Sally in his arms.

Sonic was known for his fast-talking, use of quips, and using humor to play off the more dreary elements of what was going on. Keeping upbeat and focusing ahead and ready to move on without looking back much. This was not one of those times he could be flippant on the issue. Yet he wasn’t sure what to say, could he really say anything that could make it all better, even a little? He had to try. “That wasn’t you though-.”

Sally’s tear-stained face pulled away from Sonic’s chest, sending him a glare that could kill, if she didn’t look so emotionally wrecked. “Don’t bull-crap me Sonic Hedgehog, I remember doing all those things!! Me, all me! Eggman let me keep my free will so he could use my tactical prowess and memories and-.”

Interrupting her, Sonic let a low growl leave his throat as he shook his head fiercely. “That wasn’t you Sally Acorn!! I’ve been roboticized too, and I know how that song and dance went!” Shaking his head he placed a soft kiss to her forehead as he held her close still. “Buttnik didn’t give my mind as much leeway as Eggman gave you, but I wasn’t some common bot-job either. Point is you’re still programmed to follow their rules. Just like Robuttnik made me do as he wanted despite any freedom of tactical thinking he left me.” He grit his teeth trying to suppress both his memories of that time and his growing anger. 

“The same applies to you being made to follow that- that, F**King Egg-face’s orders!” He cried giving in and cursing, using a word even he rarely uttered which caused Sally to gasp and stare at him in shock. Something Sonic took advantage of to press on with his words. “Even if you were given some mental free-reign Eggman still wanted dominance and control, meaning he was still using you like a puppet. You were still doing things you did not want to do deep down, because the Sally I know, the Sally I love would never do any of that of her true free will.”

Lip quivering Sally sniffled again, her grip on him tightening some. A fresh wave of doubt, both of her current crisis and old ones creeping into her mind. “Sonic, why? Ho-how could you still love me after all I did? All that I put you and the others through-?”

He interrupted her again with a kiss, soft, and quick, after breaking it his hands gently frame her face. “Because I can, because I do love you, and want to help you through this. Just like you did for me after I was roboticized and used against you all. Remember I wanted to die, but you not only turned me back but helped me deal with the aftermath.” Gently ‘booping’ her nose, he flashed her one of his soft smiles. “I still owe you a makeup date since, well the last one got interrupted by all the blow-out from the Nicole paranoia.”

Softly hiccuping for a moment as she tried to compose herself, Sally found herself slowly smiling if just a thin one. “Even if your girlfriend is a mess? Sonic I-I don’t know if I can trust myself, even if a part of me knows you’re right…” Laying her hands over his, she shook as another wave of doubt and sadness took her. “That was still me, what if what I went through woke up some nasty side of me, a part of me that willingly became a monster to-to ‘get the job done’?”

Firming shaking his head, Sonic leans in, his nose touching hers as his emerald eyes stare into her soft blue peepers. “Then the monster’s gonna have’ta deal with having me around to poke her or wag a finger in her direction. That said I don’t think there’s a monster, just the most amazing woman ever doubting herself. I understand some of what you’re going through Sal, and what I don’t I’m still here to help you along the way. We’ll get through this together like we always do.”

A true, warm, and wide smile crept onto Sally’s face before outright overtaking it. Leaning closer, her forehead, and his touch as she let herself be lost in his emerald gaze. “I don’t deserve you.”

Making a ‘hmm’ of deep thought, the hedgehog just flashed his trademark cocky smile back at her. “Hmm, judges say that’s hogwash. I think the Princess deserves nice things.”

Sally lifted an eyebrow, her mouth quivering as she barely withheld making a ‘snerk’ sound. “So you’re a nice thing?”

“Ten out of ten agree, when you go Sonic, you don’t go back.” He chimed in a sing-song, cheesy tone. Just happy to see her expression lighting up.

A happy laugh left Sally’s lips as she slid her arms around his neck. “I’ll give you that, I’d be lying saying otherwise.” Leaning closer, still staring into Sonic’s eyes, Sally craned her head to the side still leaning in. “I still think I don’t deserve you-.” “Sal-.” She put a finger to his lips. “However, I am very, very happy that you still love and want me even with all my flaws, and baggage.” “Like I’m not flawed-?” She interrupted him again, “Not finished, the bottom line is- oh screw it! I love you too, now kiss me!”’ Deciding words weren’t enough and anything else she said would be a mere retread of words already spoken. She removed her finger from his lips and closed the distance. Planting a big, ol’ wet, and hungry kiss against the Hedgehog’s lips. To which Sonic’s only response was to make a surprised if pleased sound and eagerly return the kiss. Each tightening their hold on the other as the sun fully began to set, and soon the sky lit up with fire-works from the celebration in the city. Almost as if to mirror the setting sun, giving way to the moon and the night; their kissing grew more passionate. Simple lip-to-lip meshing gave way to dueling tongues and their grip on each other began to pet and rub at the skin under their fur, as a heat grew between them.

Shrugging a shoulder, Sally let her vest start to fall off. Noticing this, Sonic started to grasp the article to help slide it back in place, but one of her hands grasped his wrist to stop him. “Don’t.” She pleaded, heat in her voice, her still tear-wet eyes opening to look into his. “I need you Sonic, I want to feel you all of you, kissing me, holding me, on me, in me…” Her soft words carried a mix of soft pleas from the inner turmoil she still felt; intermingled with a sensual huskiness that underlined her desire to be loved and make the pain go away.

Any argument about being out in the open, died without Sonic even uttering the thoughts. Certainly, the concern of being walked upon was there; as far from prying eyes as Freedom Fighter HQ was, they were sitting on top of the grassy hill on top of it. Anyone could wander by and get, well one hell of a show. 

Sally’s loving, needy gaze, and soft pleas killed any objections as Sonic, helped her remove the vest and their kissing resumed. It was probably in their favor that the fireworks show went on as long as it did, dulling out sounds, a pretty distraction and if both Sally and Sonic were, to be honest, ambiance to the oldest dance they were engaged in without a care in the world besides each other.

Robotnik couldn’t destroy them, and neither would Eggman, they would endure as long as they had each other.