#no i didn’t give the first steward a name

[theoretical-tactician]

Drew this for my latest chapter I’ve uploaded. Just a dragon and her steward. :)

[starkwlkr]

she’s the boss | sebastian vettel

ferrari team principal!reader

an: for fanfic purposes, sebastian won a championship with ferrari let me be delusional sorry lewis

2015

A new season of formula 1 had started and with it came the arrival of Sebastian to Ferrari. While Sebastian was dominating the track with Red Bull, you stayed with the red team and in 2014, you were declared the new team principal. Of course the news made headlines. A woman as team principal for one of the top teams in formula 1? Would Enzo Ferrari approve of this?

But you were determined to prove you belong with the team. That was something Sebastian admired about you.

Race after race, Kimi and Sebastian finished in the points. It was clear that the season was Ferrari’s season. After each race, you always made sure to watch Kimi and Sebastian on the podium. Each podium, Sebastian made sure to wink at you. Sometimes he would even mouth a few loving words towards you.

After Sebastian’s victory in Singapore, the German had asked you to meet him for a celebratory dinner. Thinking he had asked Kimi and others from the team, you didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until he knocked on your hotel door that you finally figured it out.

“So is this a date?” You asked.

“Only if you want it to be.” Sebastian replied.

“You are such a flirt, Sebastian Vettel.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’ve been told that, but it sounds so much better coming from you.”

Soon, you and Sebastian were on your way to a restaurant that he thought you would love. It wasn’t too fancy, but it was perfect for you two.

Sebastian, being the gentleman he is, made sure you felt comfortable at all times. Instead of talking about work, he wanted to get to know you better. He learned that you always loved the color red, about your siblings and that when you were younger you had a massive crush on Patrick Swayze. When your food came to the table, Sebastian took the opportunity to ask something he’s been dying to know.

“Do you think we can go on another date soon?” Sebastian asked.

“I want to, but what if the FIA thinks what we’re doing is inappropriate?”

You enjoyed being around Sebastian. Not only was he a great driver, but he was an even greater person. He always made you laugh and comforted you when you needed it. It was hard not to fall in love with Sebastian Vettel.

“Sebastian, I don’t want either of us to get fired.” You told him.

“I guess we’ll have to sneak around. God, you make me feel like a teenager again.”

So that’s what you did. Before every race, you would sneak into his driver’s room and give him a good luck kiss. He insisted on getting one from you every race, you didn’t kind of course.

It was the last race of the 2015 season and Sebastian was fighting Lewis for the championship. You were nervous, but confident that Sebastian would bring home the title. It felt like a dream come true seeing Sebastian come in first while Lewis came in third.

“Sebastian Vettel, you’re the world champion! You did it, Seb!” Sebastian heard you on the radio.

“This one’s for you!” His message warmed your heart. If only you could truly celebrate as a couple without hiding.

At the podium, Sebastian was all smiles. Who wouldn’t? He had just one his first championship with Ferrari. It was a dream come true. While you stayed with the team, Sebastian celebrated on the podium with Kimi and Lewis.

“Y/n, you’ve been called to the stewards.” Sebastian’s race engineer, Riccardo, told you. “Have we been given a penalty just now? Do you know something?”

“No . . . If Sebastian asks, tell him I’ll see him later. We have no penalty, I’m sure of that. This is probably not serious.” You tried to play it off, but he wasn’t buying it.

“Okay, if you say so.” Riccardo gave you a hug before you left.

As you walk to the stewards, people around you called your name followed by congratulations or a hug. At the moment, you didn’t even feel like celebrating. All you felt was the nerves going through your body.

Finally, you made it to the stewards office ready to face what was coming. Would you be fired for being in a relationship with one of your drivers? You hoped not.

You entered the office and saw the FIA president, Jean Todt, looking over race footage. When he noticed you, he smiled. You weren’t told he would be attending the race.

“Y/n, congratulations to you and Ferrari. You have done a great job. I hope I didn’t interrupt any celebrations yet.” Jean told you.

“No, Sebastian was still celebrating on the podium when i was called here.” You tried your best to look fine, but deep down you were scared.

“Speaking of Sebastian, he’s a great driver, isn’t he?” Oh no, here it comes.

“Yes, Ferrari is honored to have him and Kimi as well. They’re both incredible drivers”

“But what do you think about Sebastian?”

Suddenly you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jean, you know I respect you and Ferrari and Formula one so much. I don’t want to lose my job. I love this team to death. I understand what I did was inappropriate and it will never happen again, I swear by it. But if I’m no longer the team principal, I understand.” You blurted out.

All Jean did was chuckle. What?

“You think you’re fired? Y/n, Ferrari just won another championship and you think I’m going to fire you? The team would be crazy to let you go.” Jean spoke.

“Can I ask why I’m here then? Did Sebastian get a penalty?” You gasped. It would absolutely crush you if Sebastian got a penalty and he got his championship taken away.

“No, no! You’re here because I wanted to congratulate you and Sebastian on your engagement.”

What?

“I’m sorry?” You stood there more confused than ever.

“Marriage is a beautiful thing. I’m not yet married, but i know it is. I’m sure you and Sebastian will be very happy with each other.” Jean said. “I don’t want to hold you here for much longer. I don’t want Sebastian thinking you were kidnapped. Congratulations.” Jean gave you a hug.

Again, you were so confused. Did he know something? As you left the office, you saw Sebastian waiting outside with a concerned look on his face.

“What happened? Hey, talk to me.” Sebastian grabbed your hand. He was surprised you didn’t pinch or gave him a look for grabbing your hand in public.

“Did you say something to Jean about me?” You ask him.

“Like what? You know I always talk about you.” Sebastian replied. It was true. He took any opportunity to talk about you.

“Well he congratulated us on our engagement, which I didn’t know about. When were you going to tell me we were engaged?”

Oh shit, thought Sebastian.

“I might’ve told Jean that I loved you so much that I would marry you as soon as possible. To be fair, i was drunk! But that doesn’t mean it’s a lie!”

All you could do was laugh. At least he wasn’t the type of drunk to cause problems. You found it cute that he said that when he was drunk actually.

“You’re unbelievable, Seb.” You smiled at him.

“So you think we should do that? Get married?” He placed a kiss on your hand.

“When the time comes around. Come on, champ, let’s celebrate.” You finally kissed him not caring that others were around you. You were done hiding.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 6

We're back on schedule with this and for whatever reason, it always seems to get ahead of the other stories so I have a lot in backlog for this one.

In this we have Steve trying to find people to work for Eddie.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

The gardeners were the first people he hired. A brother duo named Jonathan and Will Byers. The younger brother would design what they wanted the garden to look like, which they would email to Eddie to get checked off on and then both of them would go to town.

Within their first week a lot the debris had been cleared away and they had began trimming back the foliage that would do damage to the property.

Steve immediately bargained for more money for them after that. They deserved it after the mess they had to clean up was quickly and efficiently taken care of.

The groundsman was a gruff, older guy who looked like he had just walked off the set of “The Secret Garden”. His name was Jim Hopper and was happy to move into the groundskeeper’s house on the property. It had been there since the house had been built and Eddie had revamped into to a sort of mother-in-law suite.

The problem he was running into was finding a pool company that hadn’t black listed the address because apparently Ethan liked harassing them, male or female. Asking them to wear skimpy clothes to clean it, putting leaves in the pool so they would have to fish it out with their long nets meaning they would have to lean over a lot, and so on.

Steve was about ready to give up when he found a guy just starting out. He didn’t have any clients yet and was willing to at least take a look at the pool.

He nearly sobbed with relief.

When the man arrived, Steve was pleased to find a well-dressed black man with a shiny new truck and all new equipment. In bright blue lettering on the side of the truck was Sinclair’s Cleaning Service and underneath was a couple of the things they did, like gutters, driveways, gullies, and of course pools.

He wore cargo pants and a polo shirt with the logo on the front with the name Charles underneath and had a bright smile on his face when he greeted Steve with a firm handshake.

“I hope you don’t mind me bringing my son along,” Charles said indicating his meek shadow. “My daughter Erica caught a cold so my wife is taking her to the doctor’s to see if we can’t get her some medicine. But I couldn’t leave him at home and Sue didn’t want to take him with her.”

“Because I would be bored, Dad,” the boy huffed.

Charles chuckled. “Because he would be bored. Say hello, Lucas.”

“Hi, Mr. Harrington,” Lucas said. “This is a pretty nice house you’ve got here.”

Steve smiled at him. “It’s not my house,” he said wistfully, “I’m just a cog in the machine that helps it run. Think of me as...” he tapped his lips thoughtfully, “the house steward. I’m taking care of all the hiring of staff for the owner, Eddie Munson.”

“And he’ll be the one paying the bill?” Charles asked as Steve led them all the way to the back where the pool was.

“That’s right,” Steve said, opening the back gate to let them through. “There is place to store anything you need so that you don’t have lug heavy stuff back here every time.” He pointed to the shack off the side of the pool. He had paid Jonathan and Hopper extra to help him clean it out.

“Looks good,” Charles said, opening the door to see inside. “The pool isn’t a weird shape, so that helps. Strange color of the water though.”

“Water’s clear,” Steve assured him. “The owner just had the floor of the pool painted red instead of blue.”

Charles and Lucas shared raised eyebrows. “Did he now?”

“Yup!” Steve said with a grin. “You’ll be able to see for yourself on the times you have to drain it.”

Lucas picked up a plastic measuring cup and dipped it in the water, clearly not quite believing Steve that the water wasn’t red. The giggle he gave when the water came out clear made Steve grin.

“Well, I’ll be,” Charles huffed. He turned to Steve. “I think I’m the man for the job.” He stuck out his hand and Steve shook it.

“It appears you are,” he said with a smile. “Hey, Lucas, there’s another boy here around your age, helping his older brother with the gardening. Would you like to meet him?”

Lucas looked over at his dad, who nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Steve led the way to the main garden where Will and Jonathan trimming the shrubbery. The one they were currently working on was the Beetlejuice snake.

“Hey, Jonathan!” Steve called out. “Will! Come meet our new pool peeps.”

Both boys shared a glance but put their trimmers down and came over.

“Will and Jonathan Byers, our gardeners extraordinaire,” Steve introduced. “Meet Charles and Lucas Sinclair. If you need anything you can ask each other if you can’t find me.”

“Lucas is about start high school,” Charles prompted. “How old are you, Will?”

Will looked over at Jonathan unsure if he should say.

“He’s fourteen,” Jonathan answered for him, ruffling his hair. “He’s starting high school this year, too. He’s just a March baby, so he’ll be younger then his peers.”

Will stuck his tongue out at his brother.

“You’ll forgive me, Jonathan,” Charles said gently, “but you don’t look much older than he is.”

Jonathan laughed. “I’m older than I look. I went to high school with Steve-o here. My parents had Will as ‘let’s a have another baby to fix our failing relationship’ ploy. The business was my dad’s.”

Charles looked over at Steve and raised an eyebrow. Steve didn’t look much older than the two teens either.

“I’m twenty-five,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. “I am,” he insisted when Charles and Lucas gave him matching disbelieving looks.

Jonathan cleared his throat in to the resulting awkwardness. “Yeah, let’s just say that didn’t work out and my mom got the lawn and garden business in the divorce because she put the time and effort into it, and he drank the profits. Then when I turned eighteen, I took it over. This is Will’s first year helping me out.”

“You two the only employees?” Lucas asked tilting his head to the side. “I mean I get with my dad, he’s just starting out, but you’ve been doing this for years.”

“No,” Jonathan snorted. “But to gardens this impressive and important, I’m not going to let anyone near them but me and Will. I had the whole team out to clean things up but for maintenance and design I take care of it and Will helps.”

Lucas just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s your funeral, man.”

“Bigger places than this,” Steve huffed, “have been handled by lesser men than Jonathan Byers. I wouldn’t have hired him if I didn’t think he could do the job.” He patted Jonathan on the arm.

Jonathan blushed and ducked his head. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Do you like D&D?” Will suddenly blurted out like he couldn’t contain his nerdiness any longer.

Both Jonathan and Steve braced for rejection, but Lucas lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Hell yeah!” he cried. “I have a level thirteen half-elf ranger. But the other half isn’t human, it’s a teifling!”

“Whoa!” Will said, eyes wide. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

Suddenly both boys were off rambling about stat blocks and armor proficiency and the three adults turned to each other.

“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” Charles asked with a grimace. “He always goes too fast for me to understand.”

Jonathan held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me, I was the loner artsy type in high school, I didn’t do that nerd crap.”

Steve held his thumb and forefinger close together. “I know a little bit. It’s really popular with the kids now days. Especially after that TV show came out and had all the main characters playing it.”

“Better you than me,” Jonathan huffed. “Nancy’s little brother and Will used to play all the time, but they lost their GM or something and haven’t been able to play since.”

Steve nodded. “I think they prefer DM in D&D, but GM works.” He stopped and turned to interrupt the stream of D&D coming from Will and Lucas. “How many people do you need to play again?”

Lucas and Will paused for a moment.

“Counting the DM?” Will asked and Steve nodded. “Um...four to five ideally but can have up to seven comfortably.”

“So if you, Lucas and Mike all play,” Steve said slowly, licking his lips over his sly smile, “then you would want to have one more to make it ideal?”

“Why?” Lucas scoffed, “Do you just happen to have someone who could play?”

“Yes.”

Both boys looked at each other and then back at Steve, aghast.

“There is no way,” Lucas huffed, putting his hand on his hips.

“I’d have to ask Eddie,” Steve said, motioning all of them to follow him. He led them through the house, “but I’m pretty sure he’d be thrilled to let you use it.”

He opened a door that was just off from the kitchen on the other side of the theater room. In it was everything a tabletop gamer could want. It had row upon row of books on the shelves. Tables to put snacks on. Dice of every color imaginable and figures of every race, class, and monster type were in carefully labeled small drawers. But the centerpiece, the crowning glory of the room; a long table that had a town laid out on it, complete with the squares for combat and movement.

“Holy shit!” Lucas swore, his eyes wide, blocking the doorway.

Charles, who could see over the top of his son. “I’ll allow it this once, but otherwise, watch your language.”

Will pushed Lucas out of the way to see into the room, too. “Oh. Um. That’s just...wow.”

Steve ushered them into the room. “I don’t doubt there would be certain things off limits and I would have to be here to supervise, at least while Eddie is gone. But feel free to look around. I wouldn’t touch though.”

Lucas and Will ran into the room filled with glee. Will went straight the mini-figures and Lucas went to the table.

“Gosh, Steve,” Charles said, “are you sure that the owner will be all right letting the boys play in here? It all looks so expensive, I shudder to think what would happen if they broke something.”

To Charles’s surprise it was Jonathan that chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing. He buys a new one and carries on like nothing happened. Will broke one of the two Gate of Kings statues at the opening of the hedge maze. He had a new one out the next day. Didn’t say shit about Will breaking it. Just it happened, move on.”

Charles still looked skeptical so Steve pulled out his phone. “Hey, Eddie. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. Yep, he’s taking the job. Yeah, he has a fifteen year old son named Lucas who is going to be helping out. No, no. Nothing like that. Will let it slip he likes D&D and that spawned Lucas liking it. Of course I did. I didn’t even have to ask, yes. That’s why I’m calling. Brilliant, thank you. Yep. We’ll talk at bed time as always. Bye.”

“Now all I have to do is call my friend Dustin,” he said with broad smile. “He was my first nannying job and is about their age. I kept in contact with him and his mom because they’re good people. He was just complaining the other day that his school shut down their D&D club and none of the other former members were interested in trying to keep it alive.”

Just then Will came up to him and hugged him. “Thanks, Steve. This is going to be so awesome. Mike is absolutely going to flip his shit.”

Steve ruffled Will’s hair and smiled. “Oh yeah, I totally have to be there when he sees it for the first time.”

Charles brought his chin in and looked at Steve for a moment. “It sounds as though you hired your friend to the do the gardening job instead of the best man for the job.”

“Dad,” Lucas warned, “if you ruin this for me, I will never speak to you again. He already said that Jonathan and his team was the best for the job. Youth doesn’t mean lack of experience. He’s been doing the landscaping thing for seven years. You’ve only been doing the cleaning thing for a month.”

Charles ducked his head. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. Especially just having agreed to the job for you and all.”

“Apology accepted,” Jonathan said with a nod. “Come on, Will we really do have to get back to work. I’ll get you Steve’s number later and he can help you coordinate this all for you guys.”

Will nodded and after swapping numbers with Lucas, followed his brother out the door.

Charles smiled at Lucas. “Aren’t you glad I made you come today?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed. “I only set off the fire alarm that once and that was because the bacon grease dripped onto the gas flame. It’s not my fault you and mom decided to come home at that exact moment.”

Steve burst out laughing. “That’s the worst, kid. But yeah, it’ll be in your thirties before you live that one down.”

Charles shook hands with Steve and said they would be back on Saturday to start the pool cleaning.

Steve watched as they walked away. He just need to call Dustin and lure him over here. A picture of the D&D room would do just the trick.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: SEVEN REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate

[differentnerddiplomatopera]

you ever just write a short story about queer platonic Odydio where they were best friends for ten years but Diomedes began pulling away because life was way to hard and he was neglecting Odysseus in the process and Odysseus was trying and begging for him to connect but Diomedes was not paying attention at all, so Odysseus finally sends a text, “I can’t waste my energy begging for a minute of your time, goodbye” and that really fucks Diomedes up and then six months later he finds out that Odysseus and Penelope got married and he didn’t know which really REALLY fucks him up because he wanted to be there for them

inhaleeeee

so then six years later, Odysseus and Penelope are on a train ride, tour thing and a steward is like “hey this dude hates his room can he stay with you guys” and it turns out that the guy is Diomedes and instead of being “my best bitch how are you” Odysseus decided to pretend that he doesn’t exist. Like a bitch. Throughout the trip, Diomedes tries to crack Odysseus and make him acknowledge him but Odysseus is just like whoooooo? Then Diomedes corners Odysseus with a chess board and he can’t resist. While they play, Diomedes is like “remember when we played chess the first time we met” and Odysseus is like “dude I have no fucking idea who you are….unless” and then Odysseus breaks finally and is like “hi you little shit what do you want” and Diomedes is like idk, I love you, and Odysseus is like “what the hell is love supposed to do with anything”

they cry like a lot

insert Penelope

she’s talking to Diomedes and is like “you did hurt him. You both deserve healing and peace in life” and Diomedes is crying “I’m so sorryaaauhhhhhh” and Penelope tells him Odysseus and I have a kid and it really hurts when Odysseus talks about Diomedes to Telemachus and he can’t put a face to the name so Penelope asks if he would like to meet him and Diomedes says of course. Soooooo they have dinner and Diomedes is a godfather now yay. Odysseus is like “finally my son met him my conscience is eased” but then Telemachus notices that Odysseus and Diomedes have tension and start spitting bars for a hot second, “stop being afraid, love each other” and they start working on the relationship. SLOWLY AGONIZINGLY SLOW

But they have a car ride and that is like the gate way to fixing all their problems. So they all grow together, Telemachus is married (idk to who) but he has a kid (idk what her name is) but it doesn’t matter because Odysseus is dying

Damn.

so everyone is saying goodbyes and I love yous and all the good stuff and Penelope is like “goodbye my love we will be ok, spend your last moments with your himbo” and he is like “sick, that’s rad” so he and Diomedes have a final chess game and they just talk but they are also trying to draw the match out but unfortunately Odysseus is just that guy and before he wins he makes sure that Diomedes knows he forgives him and Diomedes weeps and gives him a hug and Odysseus dies

Odysseus dies in his arms and doesn’t win the game

whoops so ….

they have a funeral and after the funeral Diomedes is washing dishes when Telemachus gives him something and says it’s from dad and Diomedes opens the small box and it’s a chess piece.

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

Dark Fae Romance: Hezirus (Chapter 1)

The first chapter in the long awaited romance story with my Dark Fae character, Hezirus!

Your can read the Starter Chapter here, which will introduce you to the characters and give some context. This story was in the kiln for so long and has many bits to it. I got way too into the story and I absolutely will not apologize! I enjoyed it too much!

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Chapter Words: 11k Warnings: a sfw starter. Notes: I do not give permission to anyone to repost, steal, copy, bind my stories. Also this is the Patreon Exclusive Freebie for you all to enjoy. You can read Chapter 2 on Patreon, which has just been published.

Your stomach growled loudly in the silence of the dungeon. Someone whimpered and the shadows chittered like a swarm of insects as they passed your door.

Daylight streamed into your cell through the small square hole in the wall of your room. And that’s where the servant found you. The moment the day winked against the stone, you sat in its brightness. Soaking in whatever warmth the cold morning air allowed.

You had no idea what time it was. But when the cell door opened, you were dizzily glad for the hot soup and bread that the owl woman placed by your feet.

“The prince wishes you to join him for a bath this morning.” The owl woman said as you dug into your breakfast. Your eyes widened as you swallowed.

“Is that an order?” You asked, a little more harshly than was probably needed. But you felt the giant round eyes regard you emotionlessly. As if your anger didn’t matter to her. It probably didn’t.

“I would assume so. Since you are his pet.”

“I’m not his pet.” You snapped, eating another spoonful of soup and buttered bread.

“Yes, you are.” The owl woman said. Her head then twisted to look behind her without moving her shoulders. Very much like how you’ve seen owls normally do. Her feathers puffed up for a second before she settled and turned her head back to you. Blinking slowly. “Would you prefer to be fed to Master Maahes? Because he is just down the hall waiting for me to leave the door open.”

Terror gripped you and you almost dropped your bowl. “W-What?”

“He can’t touch you while I am here. Since Prince Hezirus would punish him for breaking the rules. But if you do not wish to follow the orders given to you, I am allowed to threaten you to make you follow me. Master Maahes, I presume, is an adequate threat, is he not?”

You wanted to throw the soup. Maybe not at the owl because she is only doing her job. But at something. Did you risk getting rubbed down by the prince in a bath? Or thoroughly destroyed on the floor of a cell by a mountain of a man?

You grumbled and sighed. Finishing off the soup before handing the owl woman back the bowl. “Fine. Take me to the prince.”

“Excellent choice. Follow me.” The owl turned on her three toed feet and led the way out of the dungeons. You expected to see Maahes around every corner. But as you scaled more and more stairs, you felt like Maahes was no longer around. The owl woman looked calm as she hopped up each step. Her feathered hands gliding along the banister of the staircase as she walked.

You couldn’t stop staring at the way she literally jumped up every step. It was kind of adorable.

“What are you?” You asked. Unsure how to entirely word your enquiry without sounding rude. But the owl woman didn’t seem to mind. She kept walking as she answered.

“My name is Nola. I am Prince Hezirus’ head Steward of the estate.” Nola finally gave a reaction by her feathers puffing up proudly with the title. But it didn’t answer your question. And when you voiced this, Nola glanced at you with her own quizzical look. “What do you mean? I am Nola. Stewardess of the estate.”

You were unsure if Nola just didn’t understand the question. Or was not giving you the proper answer on purpose. You decided to leave it. Maybe even ask Hezirus if you needed something to talk about. “So…the prince asked to bathe with me?”

“He asked me to bring you to him while he bathed, yes.” Nola nodded. Her hopping gait shifted to a walk once the stairs leveled out onto flat ground.

“Why?” You asked.

“I would assume to bathe.” Was Nola’s response. And it was physically painful not to roll your eyes. Was this how all Fae creatures spoke, or just Nola? Another question you added to the list you were going to ask of the prince.

You gave up trying to make small talk and followed Nola to a beautiful set of wooden doors. Bronze and gold encrusted the carvings of a tree in autumn. And when Nola approached, the doors opened. Splitting the tree directly down the center.

Nola halted by the open doors and stepped to the side. Bowing her curved beak. “In you go. Call for me if you need an escort back to your cell.” Her tone was so sweet it didn’t at all fit the situation. And you stuttered a thank you as she turned on her clawed feet and hurried away.

You hesitantly stepped into the room beyond the entrance. And when your bare feet touched warm stone, the doors behind you swung closed. And your ears picked up a very soft click of a lock setting into place.

The room in front of you was as if you stepped into a forest oasis. A large pool of crystal clear water filled the majority of the large room, steaming in the early morning light. Moss circled the pool. Poking through rocks and twisted roots that acted as a natural border encircling the pond. The soft green flooring felt as soft as a cloud under your feet as you stepped closer to the water. Inspecting its depth, and finding that it was merely deep enough to come to your waist.

A harp was playing somewhere, filling the room with a soft lullaby-like melody. And cascading over the room was a ceiling made from the branches of a white tree. Golden leaves rustled in a cool breeze and small birds fluttered between the thick, pale branches. Sunlight streamed into the room through an open ceiling, giving the water a pale gold reflection.

“Over here, pet.” The prince’s smooth voice echoed softly through the room. You followed his voice over a path of moss, circling around a flowering hedge, acting as a barrier to shield the area beyond from the door. And there you found the prince by a tumbling waterfall. His long hair twisted up into a loose bun and his bare chest had a glistening sheen to it. His wings were soaked through. Sprawled heavily over the surface of the water as Hezirus dipped lower into the pool to wash off the soap from his shoulders.

“I see the dungeons didn’t dampen your light.” The prince hummed. Those bronze colored eyes traced heavily over your body as you moved closer. “Come join me. You reek of the lizard and the filthy cells.”

You could feel the warmth of the pool even from your position by the edge. The chill was still heavily set in your skin and the thought of a warm bath sounded heavenly. But the dress wasn’t designed for swimming. And you didn’t see any swimwear around to put on. Only plush towels and more plants. Even a cart full of food and beverages.

“Is there a problem, pet?” Hezirus’ tone made you snap your attention back to him. There was an undertone of impatience but his gaze was gentle, waiting for you to join him.

You sighed, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

Hezirus chuckled. And he gestured to himself…all of himself…from the chiseled, flawless chest and down below the water where you could see his cock swinging freely in the water. “Neither do I. Strip. No one will see you.” The last few words were a tease. One that was carried on a smile that carved his beautiful face into something gorgeous.

It hadn’t been an order. But you felt the promise of one lingering on the edge of his words. You sighed and threw your pride and embarrassment aside, sliding the sleeves of the dress down your shoulders and then wriggling out of the tight material.

Hezirus’ gaze didn’t budge from you as you became bare in front of him. Raking down over your breasts and the curve of your hips. You ignored how he licked his lips when your core was left unclothed.

And his smile broadened when you quickly slipped into the pool. Hissing as the warm water bit at your frozen skin.

“There. Isn’t that better?” He asked, leaning back in the water so he was somewhat floating on the surface. Thankfully his hips were still below the water so you were graced with not seeing anything.

It was better. Much, much better. You sighed and let yourself sink until only your head was above water. Enjoying the sweet salvation that the warm waters brought. Your eyes even closed for a second, but they flew open when you felt a finger graze along your arm.

You jerked back. And Hezirus laughed, raising his hand as if showing you where they were. He was much closer than before. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but touch you. You look so soft.”

“Please,” You bit at the word, like it was a bad taste in your mouth. “Don’t touch me.”

“Or what? You’ll splash me? Get water in my hair?” Hezirus scoffed. But thankfully, moved back a step and his wings made a wave behind him as they shifted. “But as you wish. I won’t touch you until you say so.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised there was no fight in the prince to get closer. “You’re awfully compilable for a fae.”

“And you’re awfully skittish for a woman who willingly jumped into a fairy circle.” Hezirus retorted. Lacing his fingers behind his head. His arms flexed as he rested his head against his palms. You looked away before your staring was noticed. And you half turned your body so you could start rubbing your hands over your body. Using the water to try and get some of the dirt and grime off your skin. There was a smell on you. It was unpleasant and you hoped it wasn’t something you had laid in while in the cell.

“Want me to scrub your back?” Hezirus asked as he floated nearer to the waterfall. His gaze still fixed on you as your palms brushed over your shoulders and sides.

You shot the prince a glare. Giving up trying to get your fingers to reach the area that you weren’t flexible enough to reach. “I don’t know, maybe you should just make me let you.”

Hezirus’ eye roll was followed with an exaggerated roll of his head, and a groan of irritation. “I merely made you drink water. It would have been more cruel of me to let you starve at that table.” Hezirus stood and made his way over to you. You had somehow moved away from him so much that your back hit the side of the pool. And Hezirus approached until he was directly in front of you. You don’t remember him being so tall. Towering over you with his wings creating a shadow around you. Like he was deliberately trying to crowd you.

A chill ran up your spine. Despite the warm water that surrounded you.

“And are you cruel?” You asked. Your voice felt too quiet against the racing pulse in your ears. Your heart pounded and you wanted nothing more than to avert your gaze from the fixing gaze of the prince..

“I can be if you want me too.” Hezirus said. Leaning so close that you could see flecks of gold in those pretty bronze eyes. “But you’d enjoy our time together less if I was. Now, do you want me to scrub your back?” He offered his hand out to you. Tilting his head in a way that a stray strand of brown hair tumbled from the bun.

You blinked and suddenly the shadows were gone and the Hezirus standing in front of you watched you with a gentle smile. Your heart calmed and you released the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“O-Ok…but nothing cheeky. Just…Just my back.” You said. Forcing your eyes to narrow, despite the warning bells that were sounding in your head.

“Nothing cheeky.” Hezirus repeated. And he twirled his fingers, gesturing for you to turn and rest against the edge of the pool. Which you did. A little hesitantly. But you followed the unspoken order and laid your arms over the side of the pond. The moss was cool under your heated skin and the rock that was pressed against your stomach felt rough against your skin. But you forced yourself to relax. Holding back the flinch that attempted to jerk you away from the hands that brushed along your spine.

Hezirus was gentle. His fingertips felt like the ghost of a breeze against your skin. And as his palm pressed against your back, you felt a weird sensation spread over your skin.

“It’s just soap.” Hezirus explained as you tried to look at what was in his hands. The prince titled his hand up so you could sniff the substance. A simple white bar of soap that smelled strongly of honey and…some other sweet scent. “It’s made from the sap of a tree that grows only in the groves of my estate.” The prince explained when he saw your quizzical look. “When in its natural state, it can burn through fabric and sting the skin. But refine it and it is better than any moisturizer I know. And the smell is one of my favorite scents.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Of course he would lather you up in a smell he liked. “It’s not going to affect me differently?” You asked. “You know, because I’m human?”

“I’m going off the assumption that if any of the people in these lands can use it, humans can as well.” Hezirus replied. When one hand circled your skin with soap, sudsing the entirety of your back in white bubbles, the other massaged and kneaded. You felt the tension in your spine release and even a knot in your shoulder give way under the prince’s touch.

But as you asked, his hands never went any further than your back. Perhaps teasing your sides and dipped under your lower back. But they never found purchase or strayed for too long.

Eventually, you were so relaxed that you laid your head on your arms. Your eyes half closed as you lost yourself to the gentle pampering. Hezirus’ hands cupped water over your back to wash away the soap before returning to spread another layer of bubbles.

At some point, you knew this was going on for longer than it needed to. But it wasn’t until the prince huffed irritably that you sat up and turned to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. Your voice almost slurred, you were so relaxed.

“Unless you allow me to wash the rest of you, the smell is going to stay.” Hezirus sighed. Pouting as he looked you over. “Let me wash the rest of you.”

“Absolutely not.” You said. Feeling more alert now you were standing again. “I said nothing cheeky.”

A grimace flashed over Hezirus’ expression but before you could properly assume his reaction, it was replaced by a look of exasperation. “I won’t do anything cheeky. I just want you to stop smelling like Maahes.”

You crossed your arms over your bare breasts and shook your head. “Either you let me do it or I’ll stay smelling like your friend.” You opened your palm for him and wiggled your fingers.

The prince scoffed, as if you had offended him. But curled his lips in a distasteful grunt and slapped the soap into your waiting hand. “Fine. Be quick about it.”

You smiled and nodded. And immediately started to run the bar along your arms and across your chest. Then turned your body around so Hezirus’ gaze didn’t leave heat marks on your breasts as the bubbles started to form over your nipples. He laughed but said and did nothing about it.

You washed yourself twice. Once apparently wasn’t enough for Hezirus. “You’re not washing yourself correctly. Just let me do it.”

You moved away when he tried to take the soap from you. You saw anger flash in his eyes but thankfully Hezirus’ words remained free of an order. “Gods, you’re stubborn.” He snapped.

After some time, the prince seemed satisfied enough that he allowed you to relax again in the pool. But your floating around and exploring the gardens circling the water was soon cut short.

Hezirus left the bath with a cascade of water following him from his wings. He dragged what seemed like half the pond out onto the moss covered ground as he walked over to the rack of towels and grabbed a large plush one.

Your eyes must have strayed for a touch too long because he turned sharply, catching you staring at the muscles of his back stretch and flex with every twitch of his feathered limbs.

“Beautiful aren’t they?” Hezirus said, smiling when your eyes darted to the ground. But you then looked back up at him as he stretched out the left wing to its full extent. Even when wet, the feathers gleamed in the bright sunlight that streamed through the yellow leaves. Flecks of gold twinkled like stars throughout the deep brown tone of his feathers.

Yes, they were beautiful. He was beautiful. In a way that seems unnaturally so. But you placed that uneasiness that came from looking at him for too long down to his nature. A Fae. Or at least a creature your mind was perceiving as a threat.

Something in you still screamed at you to run and hide. And those voices heightened when Hezirus lowered his wing, turning to you with one of his beautiful smirks. “Dry them for me.” He said, the tone bordering a command but the order didn’t stick. You could tell he was leaving it as a suggestion, so the magic didn’t take hold of you.

You glared at him, but found yourself moving through the water towards him as he wrapped the towel around his waist before fully turning to you. “You could say please.” You mumbled. Heaving your relaxed body out of the pool to join Hezirus by the towel rack.

“I prefer to hear ‘please’ in other contexts.” Hezirus replied. Shifting through various jars of leaves and ground powder on one of the carts before finding what he wanted and scooped a small teaspoon of it into a cup. “It would sound better on your lips, anyway.”

You stared at him. Your mind stumbled as you tried to come up with a retort, but ultimately failed to do so. Your thoughts are too flustered to find something coherent to say back. Hezirus didn’t seem to notice. He poured steaming hot water from a porcelain kettle into a cup and stirred the contents. The clear liquid turned brown and the scent of strong tea filled your nose.

“Grab a towel and start drying. Be sure not to crinkle a single feather.” Hezirus said. Sipping on the scalding hot drink. Smacking his lips and turning back to the cart to place a sugar cube into the cup. “And please, feel free to get cheeky.”

Your cheeks burned but you nodded. Sensing the threat behind the ‘suggestion’ if you didn’t do as you were told right away. Grabbing two plush towels from the rack, you wrapped one around your body and made sure it was secure enough that it wouldn’t fall while you were moving. And then moved up behind Hezirus as he flexed and his wings fanned open. Water dripped from the tips of each feather. But the moss soaked up the escaping liquid. Leaving your feet only damp against the soft ground, rather than standing in a puddle of water.

You looked up at the lord’s wings and pouted a little. There was so much real estate to dry. You would probably go through ten towels before he was dry.

“A problem?” Hezirus asked. Tilting his head so he could glance at you over his shoulder.

“I’m just trying to figure out where to start.” You told him, somewhat truthfully. You were also fighting the urge to reach out and touch his wings.

“My servants usually begin by drying the feathers by my shoulders and work inwards. From the tip of the wings down.” Hezirus explained. And it shocked you a little by how genuine he sounded. Like he was actually trying to help and not give a bit of cheek to your hesitance.

You nodded and did as he said. Placing the towel between the blades of his wings, against his skin, and started to wipe. His back felt like you were wiping down a rock wall. Smooth and hard against the palm of your hand under the soft fabric of the towel. And his feathers felt like shards of glass. The fine edges caught on the plush material of the towel. And you started to get frustrated with pulling the towel off the pin-needle threads of his feathers. It slowed you and eventually you had to discard the shredded remains of the first towel for another. But you still dabbed the feathers with as much care as you could. The strange, hard make of these feathers still felt fragile. Under your fingers, it felt like you could squeeze them and they’d shatter like a thin panel of glass.

Eventually, your arms started to ache. You were halfway done with the left wing and on your fourth towel since the others kept catching or became too wet for you to use. But it was taking you a long time to finish this task. By the time you got to the next wing, it probably would be dry.

Hezirus didn’t seem to mind how long it was taking you. He made himself another cup of hot tea and seemed content to hum along with the music that wafted through the baths. Occasionally, when your hand slipped and your fingers met the smooth, sharp lines of his feathers, he’d stop and glance at you. The first time this happened, you feared you had sliced your hand open. But your skin was left unmarked. Only his feather was damaged. Which you quickly smoothed down and ensured the rachis (the very thin base of the feather) hadn’t snapped under your touch. You kept your frustration and discomfort in check so you didn’t hurry and make a mistake. But there was so much to dry out.

And then you had to do the undersides of each wing as well! Which was a very intense experience. Not because anything was different, but Hezirus’ gaze was fixed on you the entire time. Over the lip of his cup when he sipped on his tea. Or when his head tilted, smirking when you had to readjust your towel when it started to slip.

You ignored him as much as you could. Keeping your eyes fixed on the feathers you were carefully drying.

An hour seemed to go by before you finally completed drying each wing. Your arms felt like jelly and in the heat of the room, you were sweating a little. Hezirus stretched his wings and curled one around himself so his fingers could glide over a few feathers. Testing your work.

“You’ll get better at it.” He said in amusement when his fingers came back with the smallest amount of moisture on his skin. “But next, you’ll need to oil them.”

“Oil them?” You huffed. Your arms, that had started to regain strength, gave a promising ache at the thought of another strenuous task. You followed Hezirus through another set of doors that led into, what you could only describe as, a fitting room. There were many shelves and dressers around the room. Mirrors lined the walls and a short stage was placed in front of the right hand wall. Obviously where Hezirus would stand to get fitted or stare at himself in each outfit.

Hezirus led you over to a large vanity with a massive round mirror. And Hezirus sat in the plush cushioned stool in front of the vanity, handing you a crystal bottle. The contents were clear with a slight shimmer when you tilted the bottle and the light trickled through the thick substance inside.

“You will only need a small amount for each wing. Too much and my feathers will be too heavy to lift me.” Hezirus explained, reaching into a drawer of the vanity and removed a silken hand-towel. Then grabbed a fine toothed comb with white teeth from the vanity top. Handing both to you before looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. “A little bit on the cloth, then as you spread it over my feathers, run the comb through the threads.”

“And what does this do?” You asked, popping the lid off the crystal bottle and dropping a small ball of oil onto the cloth. You then placed the bottle at your feet and moved closer to Hezirus. You followed your previous work and started running the cloth over the feathers nearest to his shoulder blades. Running the material down and the comb followed behind it. Sliding between the feather’s threads like a hot knife through butter. It gave the feathers a brilliant sheen and a nice aroma started to fill your nose.

“It makes my feathers look pretty.” Hezirus said simply. Watching you work over his shoulder. His wings were fanned out but relaxed. The longer feathers on the bottom of his wings curled as they rested against the marble flooring. You had a thought to say something, to warn Hezirus of crinkling the beautiful feathers. But his question scattered your thoughts, “What was it like falling through the fairy circle? Did it hurt?”

You thought back to when you tumbled through the darkness and cold. The harsh iron smell that welcomed you as your body free-fell through a vortex of freezing wind. You don’t remember it hurting. And you said as much. “It happened rather quickly. To be honest, I was drunk at the time, so if anything amazing or terrifying happened, I didn’t notice it.”

Hezirus hummed thoughtfully. His left wing twitched as the comb slipped and scratched the skin beneath the glossy feathers. You muttered an apology. Catching the small glare from the lord through the mirror. “Before the rings were outlawed, humans would come through battered and broken. Some even dead. You were lucky.”

You didn’t feel lucky. But you guessed there could be worse fates than combing oil into an other-worldly being's wings. “Why were they outlawed?” You asked. Though you could probably make a few good guesses.

“The new Queen disliked the use of human pawns in our wars.” Hezirus said. There was no judgment in his voice, only facts. Like he was reading it out of a book. “Some of the courts in our realm bred humans to fight against their enemies. Your kind are easier to grow and train than the long maturity of Fae warriors. You could never hold a flame to a trained elf or Fae lordling. But your numbers and stubbornness are nothing to scoff at. That, and she didn’t like how much mortal blood was running through her subjects.”

Your work stalled for a moment as you took in this information. But you quickly started moving the comb and cloth again when Heazirus shuffled his wings impatiently. “But Jackal had one open.”

“I doubt even he knew it was still active,” Hezirus said. His eyes searched your face for something. Horror? Disgust? But he only found silent concentration as you tried not to snag the comb on his skin again. “You haven’t asked why I have so many in my manor.”

“I don’t think I need to know.” You replied with a half shrug. Moving a step along his wing so you could start on the next section. “I could guess, I’m sure. But I think it would only horrify me.”

“Guess.” Hezirus smiled a vicious, almost hungry, type of smile. “I doubt you can guess correctly.”

It was your turn to glare at the lord over his shoulder. “I’d rather keep the rest of my sanity intact, thanks. I’m still trying to come to terms that I’m not having a really weird drunken dream. That feels very real.” Your fingers brushed over the feathers again. Feeling the sharpness of their edges before wiping the cloth over them, cleaning any smudge you might have left behind.

“You think you’re dreaming?” Hezirus asked. The smile faded into one that was more casual. Less predatory. “Is it common for you to have dreams that seem so real you question them?”

“Sometimes.” You replied. “I once had a nightmare that had me think something was in my house. Not a person, but a creature. Another time, I could taste the sweetness of a treat I was eating while dreaming. Made me very hungry when I woke up.”

Hezirus chuckled. A proper, light-hearted laugh that made his wings shift against the cloth. “What was the treat?”

You attempted to remember. But you couldn’t. You only recalled waking up confused and the memory of a flavor on your tongue.

And when you said this, Hezirus looked confused. “You don’t remember your dreams?”

“It depends.” You said. Moving along his wing, Hezirus stretched the limb as much as you needed to continue your work. “Nightmares are easier for me to remember. But I think that’s because the mind wants to remember it for future survivability. Even if it is my mind making them up and they’re not real. Dreams scatter the moment I open my eyes. It’s like grasping at floating specks of dust. The more you try to catch them, the more they evade your hands.”

Hezirus looked deep in thought as you combed through his feathers in silence. You completed the first wing and stepped over to the other, continuing the motions. This felt a lot easier than drying him.

“We don’t dream.” Hezirus said suddenly. “Some of us have prophecies when we sleep. But that’s linked to a power very few have. I’ve heard Maahes waking up, roaring at unknown voices. I doubt Jackal even sleeps. But I didn’t know humans could dream.”

It was your turn to glance at Hezirus in puzzlement. “You don’t dream?” Hezirus shook his head. “I suppose, a few humans don’t either. Or maybe, they do but they’re gone before they wake up. I don’t think you’re missing out on much. Some of the nightmares I’ve had are…wild…”

Hezirus’ brow grew faint lines as he stared at himself in the mirror. Deep in thought. You allowed the silence to grow between you. Concentrating on the task at hand. Even when you stood in front of him, polishing and combing the undersides of his wings, Hezirus continued to stare at nothing. As if he was trying to remember if he had ever dreamed of something before.

Then his eyes slid to you. Contemplating. “What causes your nightmares?”

You shrugged again. “Lots of things. Past trauma. Stress. I once watched a movie that made me dream of monsters in the dark.”

His wings shifted and you paused your combing to let Hezirus get comfortable. He then said, “Would you expect my home to visit you in your nightmares?”

You turned to look at him. Surprised by the question. “Oh, um…I don’t think so. Don’t get me wrong, I’m freaking out a little about all this. And Maahes definitely left an impression. But the dungeons might be the worst part so far. Or maybe the shadow things Jackal has. I don’t know. There’s a lot going on.” You returned to preening him and Hezirus fell quiet again.

You worked until each feather gleamed like polished glass. And Hezirus stood. His wing curled around himself so he could inspect your handiwork. You were surprised when he smiled and his wings tucked themselves tightly against his spine. “Not half bad. With practice, your hands will move more quickly. And I won’t be sitting here for hours while you shred my flesh apart.” He said. And you replied by rolling your eyes. Returning the items in your hands to the vanity and drawers.

“If I’m so bad at it, why don’t you get someone else to do it?” You asked. Watching the lord as he went to a dresser and opened it. Revealing a collection of clothes hanging on silver hookers. They were arranged in various shades of red and gold. And when Hezirus opened another cupboard, those were aligned in tones of blue and green.

“How else are you going to improve your skills?” Hezirus replied. His slender fingers delicately sliding down the hem of a gorgeous sapphire coat. “If you are to be my favored pet, I want you to do more than sit around my feet and look pretty.”

You pouted at his words. “Don’t you have servants that could do a much better job?”

“Of course. But none are as fun to play with as you. They don’t bite back. They’re so afraid to make a mistake that it takes longer sometimes for them to pamper my wings.”

Hezirus shifted back to the first dresser and removed a beautiful robe of autumn red and shimmering gold details. You averted your eyes as the towel dropped from around his waist. You felt him glance at you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at the beautiful body in front of you.

Beautiful tanned skin, chiseled in a way that would put some Greek statues to shame.

When you saw the red and gold stop shifting in the corner of your eye, you turned your attention back to Hezirus. Who reached up to his hair and pulled a single pin from the bun. And a silky cascade of brown hair tumbled down over his shoulders. Perfectly untangled, as if he had already put a comb through it as it fell from the pin.

“Now, you my sweet thing, need something spectacular to wear.” Hezirus beamed as he turned to you. “We have a big day of sitting around listening to very old nobles talk. So, I need you to look stunning enough for me to distract myself when I get bored.”

You gawked at him. Trying to form a question, but having too many in your mind to properly make one, as he herded you into another room. His wing acted as a barrier behind you so you were forced to walk next to him.

Through another door, was a room smaller than the first fitting room. But very similar in layout. But here, instead of dressers and ranks of clothes, there were fabrics and materials on rollers. Stacked on top of the other to the ceiling. And there was a person here. A very tall, slender being with four arms and a face that reminded you of a praying mantis. But they looked human. Or…human-like.

When you entered, their long fingernails clicked excitedly and they bowed so low that their pointed chin almost touched the ground. “My Lord, what brings you in here? Are your robes not suitable?” Worry coloured the being’s voice. But Hezirus shook his head, waving away the creature’s concern.

“No, no, your clothes are fitted well, as always. But, I need something for my new pet.” The wing against your back pushed you forward. The strength behind it had you stumbling a few steps until you were standing directly under the chin of the being with too many arms. “Something that catches a gaze but keeps them wondering. Thin but modest.”

The being in front of you tilted its head and your throat tightened as two abnormally white eyes peered down at you. Your skin crawled as its gaze filtered over your body with precise concentration.

“Accessories?” The being asked. And Hezirus thought it over for a moment, but shook his head.

“No. She’s pretty enough without baubles and trinkets distracting the eye.” There wasn’t a flash of a smirk or a teasing stare that you could imagine would come with a sentence like that. And something about the genuine look in the lord’s eye that had your chest warming.

“Very well. Step here.” The being instructed with a wave of two hands to a small platform in front of a corner of mirrors. You hesitantly did as you were told. Staring at four versions of yourself at different angles.

Then, before you could protest, the towel was ripped from your body and discarded across the room. You yelped as the cool air bit at your skin and when you tried to cover yourself up, the being hissed like an angry snake. “Stay still.” Bony fingers wrapped around your wrist and your hand was yanked away from your chest. The harsh touch made you grimace. But the being’s hand quickly disappeared when a growl tore through the room.

You looked at Hezirus’ reflection from the mirror. His eyes were tearing into the creature by your side, the bronze now molten and bubbling with a restrained anger as the creature cowered at your ankles. You heard it whimper. And you didn’t blame it. Though the glare wasn’t set on you, the heat from the lord’s eyes was enough to sizzle your own skin just being in proximity of the target. “Forgive me, Lord.” The being chittered pathetically. “I only-”

“Bruise her and I will take an arm.” Hezirus warned it. Then the anger faded as quickly as it sparked. And the creature stood straight again. Its hands were now careful and light on your skin as it started taking measurements.

Fabric was pressed against your skin. Colors were matched to the tone of your complexion. All at the nod or shake of Hezirus’ head. And when Hezirus liked a color, or the feel of a material against your skin, the creature started to stitch. Skirts were placed around your waist and fabric wrapped around your bosom. Tightly enough that they were perked higher than they normally would. Giving them more volume. Almost to the point that your chest looked like it was going to jump out of the dress that was developing around your body.

The dress was almost an exact replica of the one Jackal had you dressed up in for Maahes. However, the material didn’t sparkle and was thicker…barely. The shape of your body was revealed only by the tight confines of the outfit. A deep ‘V’ revealed the even deeper crevasse of your breasts. It was gentle on your skin. It was unlike anything you’ve touched before. And the stitching that held it all together created gentle swirls, giving a delicate shape to your hips and thighs.

When the creature was done, you felt like a doll put on display for Hezirus to inspect. And he did so thoroughly. “Are you comfortable?” Hezirus asked. His fingers sliding along your hips. He didn’t comment when you pulled away from his touch. Glaring at him.

“I doubt you’ll let me put on a jacket?” You asked. And when Hezirus shook his head with a teasing smirk, you shrugged. “It’s fine.” More than fine. This dress looked like it cost more than you could afford in a lifetime. And when you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t deny how goddamn gorgeous you looked in it.

“Good. Because you’ll be sitting in it for the rest of the day.” Hezirus said. And with a gesture of his hand, the being beside him presented you with slippers. Silk and soft soles welcomed your feet as the being carefully slipped them on.

Another being was summoned to the first room and Hezirus had you sit in the vanity chair. The woman, a beautiful rosy cheeked elf, her pointed ears poked through neat strands of blonde hair, stared in shock as Hezirus asked her to do your hair. You weren’t sure if it was because you were sitting in a seat obviously reserved from Hezirus, or because you were human, but the elf’s hands were hesitant on your hair. Until Hezirus barked an order for her to hurry up.

Your hair was combed and made to shine. A pin was slipped between the strands, a beautiful piece of rubies and watery pink stones. Again, something you could never afford. Something that Hezirus was placing on you as if it was normal.

Once your hair was to his liking, Hezirus dismissed the elf and you followed him out of the room and into the neverending corridors of his estate.

You passed windows that overlooked the front of the manor and saw a large crowd gathering there. Your eyes widened when you noticed the line continued through the gardens and out past the estate gates. “Are they all here to see you?” You asked. Hurrying to catch up with Hezirus’ long strides.

He nodded. “Even escaping to my holiday home doesn’t allow me to evade my responsibilities. I’m sure some are even here to see you. The nosy vultures that they are.”

You swallowed the ball that was growing in your throat. And tried to speak without the unease flowing through your words. “They won’t…try anything would they?”

Hezirus laughed. But it wasn’t light or playful, it was cruel. Vicious. “They can definitely try. But as a guest in my home, any slight against you would be a slight against me. They’ll gawk and slobber at you. But no, my dear pet, none will touch you. You have my word.”

That sharp iron smell hit your nose and you expected something to happen. But nothing did. Your legs and arms moved as you wished and you didn’t see anything change as magic flowed around you. You looked at Hezirus and he merely smiled at you. Your silent question, unanswered.

You followed Hezirus into a throne room. A vast room of polished tiles, hanging tapestries and a single carpet that rolled in the center of it all. From the gold doors that were closed, to the throne of carved wood, stone and metal that sat at the opposite end. The throne was magnificent, but simple. And as you got closer, you noticed the intricate designs of leaves carved into each different material.

Then there was the seat next to it. A simple, low to the ground stool that was large enough for you to sit on and even curl your legs under yourself. The cushion was deep green and looked comfortable. But next to the throne, it looked like a pet bed.

“Sit.” The Fae Lord said. Again, not an order. An offering of comfort. And despite yourself, your nose curled a little at the thought of what this was leading to.

“I’m not a dog.” You spat and Hezirus’ eyes twinkled.

“Would you rather sit on my lap? There’s nowhere else to sit.” Hezirus replied. Seating himself on the throne and kicking an ankle over his knee. The robe flowed over him like a red blanket in a regal display of power. A crown of gold vines and roots sat atop his head. You don’t remember ever seeing him put that on.

You eyed the nook of his lap with disdain and slumped down on the stool. His chuckle echoed through the throne room.

The same elf from before approached you and started fiddling with your dress until it pooled around your ankles elegantly. You found yourself straightening your back as two guards, strapped in armor, also stepped closer to the throne. To their lord.

And the elf girl quickly retreated from your side when Hezirus waved his hand and the gold doors slowly opened.

You caught sight of many faces and bodies pushing to be first through the door. You almost laughed at the polite scramble of the two at the front of the pack as they tried to beat each to Hezirus’ feet. If they weren’t trying to hold their heads high and feign boredom, you were sure they’d be sprinting to beat the other to the throne.

“My Lord,” The one on the right rushed to greet the Fae Lord first. Much to the disgruntled glare of the other. Who fell silent and stepped back. Obviously having lost whatever race was happening between them. “I hope your morning has been pleasant. I see you have a new pet, congratulations.”

The man’s eyes flickered to you. And your whole body tensed with pins and needles as an unworldly blue gaze settled on you. A hunger blazed through the stranger and your pulse stuttered with a spike of nervousness, before settling as the man turned back to the lord beside you.

Hezirus tilted his head in a polite greeting. “Welcome. Make this quick, there is quite the line behind you.”

“Yes, yes, let me start off with the important query I come to you today.”

You grew bored incredibly quickly. You sat beside Hezirus while what seemed like hundreds of people came to ask him questions or ask permission. Once or twice, a person came to his attention and offered an alliance between houses. Something about a person in Hezirus’ court that would be a fine match for the person’s offspring. Hezirus seemed disinterested in it all. But spoke politely and firmly. His words carried authority, and none challenged it.

As much as the people stared at their lord, you were centered with quite a few curious and hungry eyes. Hezirus wasn’t kidding when people would slobber in your direction. You noticed some beast-like persons wiping their lips after staring at you for too long. Others snickered. Some sneered in a way that made your blood turn cold. Frozen with fear.

When these people came forth, Hezirus shifted and his hand casually drooped over the arm of the throne. His fingers brushed over your shoulder, sometimes playing with a curl of your hair, and you felt a calm wash over you. The scent of iron and fresh air following the sensation. When this happened, those who had cruel eyes that drank you in, turned away and hissed. As if burned.

Hours passed and your eyes wandered from strange faces and lust-full gazes, to inspect the room around you. You counted twenty tapestries. Each with their own design and colors. Houses, maybe. Courts of royalty in this strange world?

Then you noticed that the tiles on the floor had a decorated outline to them. And weren’t just colored shards of greens and browns and golds. A forest of sharp leaves and elegant flowing roots. Strange animals bounded between ferns and colorful flowers. You busied yourself with inspecting these floors, until Hezirus tensed beside you and his hand disappeared from your arm. Leaving warm tingles as his back straightened.

You moved your attention to the person in front of you. They looked similar to the guards that were positioned on either side of Hezirus’ throne. But this one was in green, rather than gold and brown. You hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, but their pale eyes flicked to you. “You know what will happen when the Queen finds out about it.” It took you a moment to realize who the person spoke about. You. “Harboring humans is outlawed. Your pet will need to be sent home or killed, if you wish to avoid any punishment from her majesty.”

You risked a glance at Hezirus. And almost wished you hadn’t. The sheer anger in his eyes had his pupils blown wide and his knuckles white on the arms of his chair. You glimpsed talons sneak out from his human-like nails. “The human is under my protection until I find her a way home.” Hezirus replied. His calm voice contrasted the expression that painted his face. “I am searching for the cause of her coming here. Your Queen has no need to send a reminder of her laws. I know them well. Since I helped write them.”

Surprise riddled through you. And a wave of murmuring washed through the crowd behind the messenger. Who didn’t look convinced. “You prance it around like a prized horse and expect me to believe you are not…using her.”

Hezirus’ talons scratched at an imaginary imperfection on his throne as he replied. “Would your Queen rather I lock her up? Forget about her in the cold cells until I can shove her back to her realm? Keeping her fed, clean, clothed and comfortable is my priority. She is my guest here. Not a prisoner. Not a caged beast I found in the forest. A guest.”

Something about the word and how Hezirus said it carried more weight than you understood. And the messenger’s eyes narrowed in on you for a moment before he bowed. “Very well. I will inform my Queen of your intent. But, my Lord, know that she is watching you. If this goes on for too long or it disappears-”

“She,” Hezirus hissed. “Will not leave this estate unless it is to go back to her realm.”

As if that’s all he needed to hear, the messenger bowed again and left. The crowd watched him leave, continuing to mutter amongst themselves as Hezirus relaxed. His hand returned to lightly touch your shoulder. And you didn’t lean away from his fingers as they drew circles on your skin. Even if the talons left red lines instead of warm goosebumps.

Late in the afternoon, when the sun started to dip and shadows stretched over the estate, Hezirus finally stood. The room bowed to their retreating lord. You hurried after him. Taking a glance in your direction as a signal for you to come with him.

His wings shifted as he rolled his shoulders. Stretching and groaning as the doors behind you both closed. “I couldn’t take it anymore.” Hezirus scoffed. Continuing down the corridor, with you trailing behind his wings. “Not one had anything interesting to say. All demands and no compromises. At least some had some news of the lands on the outskirts of the forest. But still nothing interesting. What do they think drabbling to me will get them in return?”

You let Hezirus rant. Your legs were just happy to be moving again. You had been shifting restlessly on your stool all day. Unable to find another comfortable position until you were leaning against the throne and your legs sprawled out beside you. The elf girl had come out each time and shifted your skirts so they sat elegantly around you. Regardless of how you sat. Hezirus had taken the new position to reach new skin. Anytime they dipped lower than your collarbone, you shifted, and his fingers returned to your arms or brushed his knuckles along your jawline. Your skin itched from the claws he still hadn’t retracted. The lines on your skin weren’t harmful or permanent, already fading now he had left you alone. But the slight irritation made you long to bathe.

“Is it like that every day?” You asked. Your dress flowing around your legs, as light as a cloud.

“Not every day.” Hezirus sighed. Slowing just enough to let you catch up and walk next to him. “I offer my attention to them every so often so the nobles don’t get antsy. They swarmed here to see you. The news of your arrival left my estate quicker than I anticipated.”

“Did you mean it?” You asked. Lifting the dress a little so you could climb the stairs he took unhindered. “When you said you are looking for a way to send me back?”

“Yes.” Hezirus said. And you felt the glowing light of hope and relief flood through you. “You can’t stay here forever. As much as I would want that. But the Queen’s laws dictate any human that comes here, regardless of free will or otherwise, is to be sent home right away or killed. To stop any…procreation and abuse against your kind.”

“You said you helped write them, the laws.” You asked. And Hezirus nodded.

“As much as I hunger to devour you, my sweet flower, I can see the damage that it could cause if a human continued to stay in my court. The same damage I knew would unfold if those laws weren't set. Eventually, I could see your kind breaking through to our world and starting a revolution. Blood would be spilled on both sides. It wasn’t worth the risk, in my opinion. For sex and blinding pleasure. Or fodder for wars that are needless and proud.”

You nodded. Stunned, but understanding of his position. “It’s just surprising…” You said.

“Because I play with you so much that it makes me seem predatory?” Hezirus asked. And you nodded, not bothering to lie to him. He laughed softly. “Your kind never truly understood the allure you possess. You always tried to use it, and sometimes it would work, but it would get them killed more times than not. You’re like…catnip to Fae.”

“Why?” You asked. And Hezirus shrugged.

“I’ve found it to be a manner of things.” Hezirus led you into a dining room. Not the same one you first dined with Hezirus at, but very similar. It was on a higher level of the estate and the windows overlooked a garden of color. “Your blood, rich and untouched by magic, calls to some of us to be devoured. Though, many of us consider humans to be impure and toxic to consume, something about your blood calls to them. It could be a trace of Fae lingers in an ancient ancestor, passed down to an unsuspecting human. And it yearns to be with Fae-kind. Another reason is the strange obsession that grows in us when we bed a human. It has baffled my kind for centuries why we get such delicious pleasure from you. But that is the main reason. Once you lay with a human, you start to crave it.”

“We’re nothing but sex slaves in your eyes.” You said a little bitterly and Hezirus shrugged. Seating himself at the head of the table and gesturing for you to join him on his right side.

“Lust and love were commonly mistaken back then.” Hezirus explained. Leaning on his elbows that sat on the smooth surface of the dining table. “I had a friend that followed her human lover into their realm. I felt her life smolder out after some years. Consumed by the smog that plagues your world. It’s a dangerous thing, this…obsession. It’s another reason why the Queen had your kind banished from our realm. So fairies, fae and all in between are saved from the cruel fate of being consumed by a human’s allure.”

“But…we’re just…”

“Human. Yes, you are. And that alone has killed more of us than you can imagine.” Hezirus held your gaze until you tore yourself from those beautiful bronze eyes. “I have Jackal looking into how and why the ring brought you here. He has assured me that the ring had been disarmed when I ordered it. So, a mystery of why it flared to life when you stepped into the circle, is being investigated. The magic needed to take you back is dangerous. Since those traps were always a one way ticket to a cell and chains. But until then, I don’t want you to leave the estate. The Queen would find it easier to destroy you, than risk someone in my court using the portal to sneak more of you here.”

“She’d really just…kill me?”

“For the safety of her people and the forgotten truce between our worlds, yes. She’d burn you and forget about it an hour later.” Food was brought out and placed in front of you both. A warm dinner with wine to sip that matched the food perfectly.

Your stomach gave a loud rumble at the sight and smell of the food. You didn’t realize how hungry you had been until you started to eat. You waited until you started to feel full before asking the question that was dancing on the edge of your mind.

“Have you fallen to this…obsession with humans before?” You asked. And the amused smirk that curled Hezirus’ lips made you want to take back the question.

“When I was young, yes.” Hezirus replied. “My first human was gifted to me by the same friend that disappeared into your world. ‘You’ll love it,’ she said. ‘It’s like riding a cloud made of ambrosia on a summer’s morning. You’ll never want to leave their body.’ I was…let’s say, doubtful about it. But she was right. By the Hells…she was right.” Hezirus’ eyes clouded for a moment, but when they lifted from his plate to you, he was smiling playfully. “My parents were less than understanding why I spent all my time plowing humans everyday. A mated Lord and Lady had no need for outsourced pleasure. But I was young, they gave me more leverage than I deserved while being a Prince of the Wilds.”

You tilted your head, sensing a cloud of dread behind the lord’s words. “What happened?” You said the words slowly, very carefully. As if you had approached a wild beast and didn’t want to startle it.

Hezirus opened his mouth to answer. Those beautiful bronze eyes searched your face for something. And kept still, seeing the turmoil behind his gaze before he shook his head. “It’s a dark tale. And one of the reasons why I was so heavily involved in the creation of those laws.”

His tone attempted to keep the air light between you two, and something in your mind told you not to push. Or else something bad was going to happen. You merely nodded and finished your plate in peace.

Hezirus made small conversation, despite the heaviness in his gaze. You answered questions about your world. How the lives of humankind have changed over the centuries. What your life was like back there. You answered honestly. Once attempting to lie but Hezirus’ glare set a cold tremble through you and you quickly dropped your words. Giving him the truth about your mundane life.

Once dessert was presented and then eaten, Hezirus then brought you back to the bathing room. You went through the same song and dance as this morning. Hezirus would get too close and you’d shy away, snapping at him. He would laugh and tease you, splashing water at you as he backed away.

“You’re already naked, half the fun has already started.” He had said. Eyes twinkling. And you poked your tongue at him. Snatching the soap from the side of the pool before he could try and start that argument again.

Hezirus had you dry his wings and comb the oil through the feathers once more. When you questioned why he did this twice a day, the lord’s wings twitched hard enough to cause a stir of wind across the dressing room. “I like to be clean.” Was his only answer. And the tone of his voice silenced you for the rest of the task.

Once Hezirus was satisfied with your work, he led you a touch further down from the bathing room and to a pair of doors that looked far too magnificent to just be doors. The entire wooden surface were carvings of forests and battlefields. Creatures and faerie types raged in a battle beneath a canopy of trees. A gorgeous illustration of a winged wolf loomed over it all. Howling up at a sky full of stars and an eclipse in the center. It split down the middle as Hezirus approached the entrance and the doors opened up into a room the size of a house.

It was a lovely decorated room.With a roaring hearth warming the air with a large loveseat in front of it and a stack of books sat on the small table beside the lounge. Paintings filled the creamy walls and the ceiling was a mimicry of a tree’s branches in summer. Sunlight streamed through hundreds of leaves, giving the illusion of light through various shades of green.

Then your eyes fell on the absolute monster of a bed, and your heart sank a little.

This was a bedroom. Hezirus’ bedroom.

“I don’t think…” You started speaking but what were you going to say? It’s not appropriate? You didn’t want to stay here? Anything the lord wanted he very much could have. Did your worries even mean something to him? He brought you here, to his bedroom!

Hezirus strode through the room as if he didn’t hear the fear in your voice. He went to a door beside the large fireplace, hidden from you with your position by the door, and opened it.

“I know better than to force myself on a human.” Hezirus said, expression unreadable as he waved a hand through the open door. “But unless you’d rather sleep in that cold, dark cell, I’m still keeping you close.”

So he could come in later tonight while I’m asleep. I’m within arms reach and-

Hezirus sighed. Seeing your hesitation. “Would it make you feel better if I told you a little truth about myself? A piece of trust to gain trust. I used to be…like that. Used too. Humans were nothing but tools to me. A simple household item that I could use at my leisure. But I learnt my lesson in the power of consent. The brutal consequences of forcing a yes onto someone's lips when everything is screaming no. Your body is safe from me unless you say otherwise. I promise.”

His words were followed by a sting of iron on your nostrils and a cold wind that ripped through the room. You felt something in you seal. Like a lock in your skin that you couldn’t place the location of. The feeling caused a strange tingle to run through you. Enough so that you wrapped your arms around yourself and rub your skin for a bit of comfort.

But you nodded. Still feeling unsure, but anything was better than the cells. You approached Hezirus and peered into the next room. Another bedroom. It wasn’t as big as the first, but still rather spacious. And the bed was large enough that three of you could fit in it and still have room to roll around in. A smaller fireplace flickered and spat. And the room was decorated with a few paintings and shelves, crammed with books. A window looked towards a forest, dark and looming on the edge of the stone wall of the estate.

“To stop any unwarranted visits directly to your room, anything you need, let me know. And I’ll have it delivered to my room.” Hezirus explained. Keeping a respectful distance behind you as you take in the room. “I’ve already had clothes provided for you. They’ll be in the dresser.”

You glanced at the armoire and when you pulled open one of the drawers, you found lacey, thin clothing neatly folded within. You shot Hezirus a glare and he smiled innocently. “I’m going to freeze in these.” You muttered. Pulling a pair of lacey sleepwear from the piles.

“The fire will keep the room warm enough.” Hezirus replied. Leaning against the door, watching you as you inspected more of the clothes. Finding less and less coverage than the last. “Or if you get too cold, you can always share my bed.” You rolled your eyes at the honey and silk in his words. When you shot him another glare, he clicked his tongue. As if irritated. “Well, you can’t hate me for trying.”

You laughed and Hezirus smiled. You picked out a pair of sleepwear with the most material you could find. A simple pair of silk shorts and a top that looked more like a sports bra than a shirt. You tried to ignore Hezirus as he watched you drop the towel from around your body and change. Once you were clothed, Hezirus retreated to his bedroom. Taking a lounging position on the loveseat. His wings draped lazily over the cushions and sides. He almost took up the entire space. But conveniently there was a section for you between the side of the sofa and Hezirus’ side.

“No bedtime oi-” You stopped yourself before saying the word. Because you could imagine Hezirus’ reply if you finished your sentence. And the flash of mischief in his eyes confirmed your hunch. “I mean, no bedtime cleaning routine?”

Hezirus laughed and shook his head. Plucking one of the books from beside the lounge and began to read as he replied. “No, sweet flower, you can relax. I’m sure today was a lot for your adorable head. You can retire if you wish or join me by the fire.”

The warmth from the flames was comforting. The walk from the dressing room to the bedroom, with only your towel, had robbed some of the blissful heat from the baths. The night air had a chill to it. Even just standing by your bedroom door allowed some of the cold to brush along your skin.

Eyeing the very small space, tightly snug up against Hezirus and his wing, you bit you lip and tried to look for any other spot that wasn’t the floor. But there wasn’t anything else to drag over to the fire. You spotted spaces that could have once help a chair or lounge, but they were empty. How inconvenient… “I think I’ll retire.” You said. Glancing back at your room and Hezirus’ smile was soft when you said. “Goodnight, Lord Hezirus.”

“Goodnight, sweet flower. Sleep well.” The bronze of his eyes flickered with reflected flames and your heart thundered in your chest as you closed the door. You thought about locking it. He’d definitely hear it and you doubted it would stop the lord in his own home. But the whispering worry in the back of your head told you to do it anyway. And when you did, the sound echoed like a thunderclap in your room.

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

The Continuations: Prince Hezirus: Chapter 2 (Patreon)

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[ladamedusoif]

El Mar (The Sea)

Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader - Part of the Summer Lovin' 24 Fic Event

Prompt: By The Sea #1

Word count: 6.4k (this got out of hand)

Content Notes and Warnings: Explicit; 18+ MDNI; set after the events of TUWOMT; we can assume things just didn’t work out with Gabriela because in this house we love her; no physical description of Reader beyond her clothes; references to implied infidelity (not involving Javi or Reader); references to alcohol consumption; Reader understands at least some Spanish; Reader can swim; likely errors about yachts and how they work because I have never been on one; some angst but so much softness; friends to lovers; oral sex (f receiving); mutual masturbation; safe PiV sex; did I mention the softness

A/N: For @pedgito, @amanitacowboy, and @chaotic-mystery's wonderful Summer Lovin’ fic challenge event, with love and SO MANY apologies for how goddamned late this is. (This is what happens when you are an overthinker and a perfectionist).

And huge love and thanks to @doscharolastras for being such a supportive beta for this, and for everything.

(header by @pedgito and divider by @cafekitsune)

“You’re a great guy, Javi, truly.” Etta hastily rolls up a couple of her light slip dresses and pushes them into her Longchamp weekend bag. “But it’s over. I hope you find someone who’ll make you happy, who’ll love what you love, who’ll love you for you. I mean that.”

Her eyes scan the room for any belongings she might have left behind, but purposefully avoid the perplexed face of her boyfriend of almost a year. Javi Gutierrez is still struggling to make sense of it all. One minute he was kissing Etta on the cheek, leaving her on a sunlounger by the hotel pool while he went for a stroll along the Croisette, keen to soak up the atmosphere of the Cannes Film Festival. The next, he was standing in their comfortable hotel suite, watching his girlfriend packing her bags.

”Etta, amor, please wait. Please. We…we are going on the yacht tomorrow, remember? A week on the Mediterranean, just you and me.” He wrings his hands, helpless. “Maybe it is just what we need, no? Time together, time to see how we can save what we have.” Javi’s dark brown eyes sparkle with a mixture of hope and heartbreak. 

She exhales and zips her bag, slipping it over the handle of her large suitcase. “Is this even worth saving, Javi? Seriously?”

Javi, blindsided, is lost for words. All he can do is repeat her name, over and over, pleading, disbelieving, as Etta gives him a chaste little kiss on the cheek and leaves the room.

Later, lying on the bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Javi realises that in all her hasty explanations and excuses, she never once looked him in the eye.

You smiled when you opened the file with details of the client for the next week. Javi Gutierrez was a regular, usually hiring a yacht at least once a summer for a week or two of sailing around the Med. You took a certain satisfaction in the fact that he always requested that you be his chief stew (short for chief steward; in non-yacht speak, the person responsible for managing everything from dinners to room requests to on-board entertainment). 

He told you why, once. “You are…what is the term? Unbothered? It does not matter who is on the yacht, how famous or not, you are wonderful to everyone.”

You chuckled. “People are people. My job is to make sure you all have a perfect holiday.”

You suspected that Javi was thinking of the time when, on his first trip, you had somehow managed to transform a stateroom into a dojo at very short notice - and had not batted an eyelid when it became clear that it was a special request for Nicolas Cage. 

You knew you were nursing a little crush on him, there was no doubt. But that’s all it was - a little crush, harmless, inconsequential. After all, anyone would end up with a little crush on Javi Gutierrez if they met him. 

This year, Javi had hired a yacht and plotted an itinerary that would pick him up in Cannes, after the film festival, and travel across the Mediterranean to its final destination: his home in Majorca, docking in Palma. The reservation was for two guests. You arched an eyebrow, swiping down to the section of the form marked “Special Requests”.

”Mr Gutierrez and his guest (Etta Balbay, actor, model) will be celebrating their first anniversary as a couple on this trip. Please arrange for flowers and champagne in the stateroom, and intimate meals and atmosphere.”

Javi generally kept the details of his personal life close to his chest, though you knew that it had been a while since he’d had a serious relationship. You smiled as you opened up your go-to contact list for florists in Cannes, heart gladdened that this kind, funny man had finally found someone to love.

***

Javi can’t remember how long he’s been lying on the bed, fully clothed. He must have slept for a while, he thinks - the light creeping through the drapes is bright and fresh, suggesting early morning. He reaches for his phone. Seven AM. 

He had tried calling Etta a few times in the hours after she left, but the calls went unanswered. Eventually, he got a voice note from her.

“Javi, sweetheart, I think it’s best for both of us if we just do no contact for a while. I’ll make arrangements with your people to get my things from your place in LA.”

He listens to it again and flops back onto the bed. 

He’s woken the next time by the hotel room phone, ringing furiously. He looks at his wristwatch, this time. 

Eight thirty. 

“Hola, hello?” Javi’s voice is heavy and groggy.

“Javi?” Pablo, his assistant, sounds frantic on the other end of the line. “I’ve been trying to reach you! Did you two forget about the early departure?”

Javi rubs his face and runs his fingers through his curls. “Early departure?”

“The yacht, Javi. You’d arranged to leave at eight, remember?”

The fucking yacht. He’d completely forgotten. 

Pablo’s impatience hangs in the air. “What do you want me to do, Javi? I’m at the marina now, they called me when you didn’t show up.”

Javi would really rather curl up under his duvet and sleep for a thousand years. But he also really wants to go home. And maybe a week at sea will clear his head.

“Uh, tell them I am very sorry, I overslept… I will be there in half an hour, okay?”

Pablo sighs. “Sure.”

In Javi’s frantic state, he neglects to tell Pablo he is travelling solo. And his frazzled assistant doesn’t notice that his boss has used first person singular “I”, not “we”.

At the marina, Pablo exhales and slips his phone in his pocket. “He’s really sorry, he overslept, but he’s en route. That okay with you guys?”

You nod. “I’ll let the captain know, as he might want to replot the course depending on weather, but that’ll be fine. Mr Gutierrez knows where we are?”

Pablo sighs, again, and whips out his phone, tapping rapidly. “He does now.”

***

You smile and straighten your blouse when you see the black car pulling up at the end of the jetty, waiting for the familiar figure to emerge. Javi, typically, insists on helping the driver with his luggage as he makes his way to the boat. 

“Mr. Gutierrez, welcome back! A pleasure to host you, as always, and I’m looking forward to meeting Ms Balbay, of course…” You scan the jetty, wondering where Javi’s guest is. 

Javi’s face falls and he takes off his wayfarer sunglasses. “I am afraid that Etta…Ms Balbay will not be joining me on this trip, after all. We are no longer together.”

His eyes, usually so bright and warm, are filled with sadness. He looks exhausted. 

“Oh, well… that’s absolutely fine, Mr Gutierrez. Let me take your bag, please.” You turn on your best, brightest smile. Professional, always, to the last. 

He offers a slight smile in reply and follows you on board the yacht. “If you do not mind, please call me Javi? I know you like to be professional, but…we know each other so well now, no?”

You gesture towards the main living area and Javi enters, taking a seat on one of the large, comfortable couches built into the room. 

“Of course, Mr Gut- I mean, of course, Javi. I’ll bring this to your stateroom - would you like some refreshments? Coffee, maybe?”

He nods, slowly, and you head towards the staterooms, making a mental note to tell the on-board chef that he would be cooking for one, not two, and that -

Oh, shit. 

The stateroom has, per Javi’s original request, been decorated with a beautiful, tasteful floral arrangement. You had freshly opened a bottle of Perrier-Jouet champagne just prior to Javi’s scheduled arrival time, and it stands in an ice bucket alongside two vintage champagne coupes. And in front, an elegant, hand-written card wishes the now-defunct couple a happy anniversary. 

Shit. At least you’d got here first. Swiftly, you move to remove any trace of the special additions before he sees them, hoping to spare his feelings. Frantically, you search for the champagne cork - a futile exercise, seeing as you’d never manage to squish it back into the neck of the bottle, but you keep trying to find it.

”If I could at least save this…”, you mutter to yourself, holding the dark green bottle as your eyes scan the stateroom.

”Is it even worth saving?”

Javi stands just inside the door, a sad half-smile on his face. 

“Oh, Javi, I’m sorry, I was just -“

He shakes his head, his curls noticeably mussed and unattended to this morning. “Please, no apologies necessary. You were not to know. But thank you for thinking to tidy…this away.” He points at the champagne. “Please. You take it.”

He won’t hear your protestations, your insistence that you cannot drink on duty and won’t have enough time to enjoy the vintage champagne either way. When he finally accepts the bottle, he has one condition.

”You must come and have a glass with me on the deck this evening. Please? We can talk about the festival. You like film, don’t you?”

“Like” was an understatement. You adore cinema. And, as you nod your head, you think to yourself how nice it was that Javi remembered your passion for it. 

“Well…okay. But one glass and one glass only for me. I have a ship to run, after all. And now, Javi, I’ll leave you to get unpacked while I check with chef about lunch.”

Javi offers a sweet, semi-formal little bow as you leave the room.

***

You held fast to your limit of one glass of champagne. Javi did not. 

As he retired to the stateroom that night, a little the worse for wear, he thought about Etta, about whether there had been signs that something was wrong, whether he had misread the extent of her commitment to him. 

She had seemed…different, the last few months. Nothing major, just - a little distant. She put it down to work, juggling some minor acting gigs with modelling, and with the strain of spending most of her time many thousands of miles from Javi. That’s why he’d invited her to Cannes, planned the yacht trip. Time together, away from the demands of their careers. 

He’s haunted by her words, her wish that he would find someone who “loved you for you.” What did that mean?

He’d started to speak to you about her, sitting in comfortable seats on the deck as the sun set, his tongue loosened by the champagne. You were typically comforting, kindly suggesting that maybe Etta might just need space, that this might not be the end. 

It would be tempting to believe that, Javi muses, as he brushes his teeth. He spits out his toothpaste and reaches for the mouthwash, studying his features in the bathroom mirror. He searches his eyes, as if seeking some hint that hope was an option, that something could be salvaged from the wreckage.

Try as Javi might, he saw only exhaustion. Deep down, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he knew that Etta was never coming back.

***

After a couple of days at sea, Javi seemed a little brighter. He read, he sunbathed, he wandered amiably around the yacht chatting to you and the other two members of the tiny crew: Tony, the taciturn chef who was desperately homesick for his wife and new baby and spent every free moment on video calls with them; Andres, the ship’s engineer; and Vico, the captain. He asks you, shyly, if you would mind sharing lunch and dinner with him. 

“For company,” he explains. “And you are such good company.” 

Technically, you probably shouldn’t do it. But he’s on his own, and his girlfriend has left him, and so you take your main meals together each day. You talk about cinema, about travel; you tell him about the history of some of the places you can see from the deck of the yacht; he thanks you every time for being so kind and generous with your time.

”All part of the service,” you say. But in truth, he’s very good company too.

You see him deep in conversation with Vico one morning, over a simple breakfast of tostadas with sliced tomato and olive oil. He beams when he sees you approaching. A couple of days of sun and sea air has deepened his tan, brought his freckles to the fore, and picked out lighter strands in his hair. The loose blue linen shirt and white pants he’s wearing enhance his golden aura.

”We are going to make a little stop today, to swim,” he explains, glancing up at the bright sky. “It’s so beautiful, but oof, I need to cool down.” He mimes fanning himself, eyes rolling dramatically, and you laugh.

”Perfect. Let me know a likely time and I can reschedule lunch or dinner.”

As you walk back into the bowels of the yacht, you hear Javi calling you and turn to see him trying to catch up with you. 

“Everything okay?”

”Sí, sí.” He catches his breath and smiles that bright smile again. 

Yep, you still have a little crush on him.

”I was going to ask… would you like to join me? You have been working so hard, and it’s so hot, think of the cool water!”

He gestures with his broad hand towards the glittering blue of the Mediterranean, like a salesman making his pitch. 

It is tempting. You are somewhat used to the summers on the boat, but you still find your blouse damp and clinging to you by the end of the day, your body crying out for a cool shower. 

But he is a guest, and you are the chief stew.

”I’m not sure if I can, unfortunately - I am at work, after all…”

Javi looks crestfallen, dark eyes at their most puppyish. “Could it be a break? You break for lunch, no?”

Javi Gutierrez, you’re a hard man to say no to.

”Yes, I do, but…”

Those puppy eyes work their magic. A couple of hours later, you find yourself in the dark green swimsuit you had packed for this job, just in case it was needed, standing on the deck beside Javi. You realise, with a jolt, that you’ve been checking him out - though it’s hard not to. He’s still wearing his blue shirt, but a couple more buttons are undone now, exposing the breadth of his tanned chest. The white pants have been replaced by a pair of tight navy swim shorts that highlight his strong legs and leave very little to the imagination.

You avert your eyes and blame the heat in your face on the bright sun.

He peels off his shirt and you feel yourself heating up even more. “Ready?”

“Javi, you go first. I’m… I need to get up the courage.”

He raises his eyebrows and extends a hand towards you. It takes you a moment to realise he means for you to take it. 

“Come. We will jump together, sí?”

“If I drown, this is your fault.”

He laughs, then turns somber. “I will take care of you.” 

He means that. 

You grip Javi’s big, strong hand securely. 

“Okay. Uno, dos, tres…”

You shriek with joy as you leap into the unknown, Javi still holding your hand. The cool water of the Mediterranean shocks your system as the two of you are submerged, rapidly rising again to the surface. 

His smile is as bright and warm as the sun itself when he reappears from under the water, hair slicked back by the waves. Javi looks born to the sea, confidently treading water as you compose yourself. 

“Es bueno, sí?”

You nod, still working through the shock of the cooler water, and a huge smile creeps across your face. “It’s incredible. I didn’t realise how much I needed that.”

He laughs and lies back on the water, languidly kicking about to maintain his position, before turning smoothly round and starting to swim. Javi cuts through the water with ease, long arms and broad torso moving smoothly, sun glittering off the droplets that cover his shoulders. 

He dips down into the water in a seal-like dive, feet kicking above the surface before he reappears and grins in your direction. 

It is, you realise, the first moment on this trip that he has really seemed like himself.

***

He does not emerge after he goes to his stateroom to shower and change. When he doesn’t appear for dinner, you knock on his door.

”Javi? Dinner’s ready, if you are hungry?”

No reply.

”Javi?”

His voice comes through, low and sad. 

“I will take dinner in my room this evening, if that is okay.”

”Of course. I’ll prepare a tray.”

You eat with Tony and Vico that night, enjoying the tagine Tony has had simmering away for most of the day but wondering what, exactly, had served to put an end to Javi’s sunny mood. Was it you, too familiar, too comfortable with the guest? Had you unsettled him? 

The logical part of your brain would remind you that it was Javi who asked you to come swimming with him, who had sought your company throughout. But in your panicked state, you could only think that you had crossed some unseen line and upset him.

As you nestle into your little bunk that night, you spend a few minutes scrolling mindlessly on Instagram. A suggested post from a celebrity gossip page catches your eye. 

ETTA BALBAY AND JON MARCUSO: LOVE ON SET

Your stomach lurched as you swiped through the pictures. There was Etta Balbay, walking hand in hand in New York with her co-star on her most recent movie when she was supposed to have been here, on this yacht, with Javi. Her boyfriend.

”Oh, fuck.” 

***

The tagine was delicious, but Javi’s appetite was not up to much and his portion went largely untouched. He felt a little guilty, and made a mental note to apologise to Tony tomorrow.

He had been curled up in bed for most of the evening, ever since he’d checked his phone after the swimming pit stop and seen the pictures. Etta, looking very cosy with the lead guy from a film she’d had a minor role in. Etta, casually kissing that guy’s cheek in public, like she hadn’t just walked out on a relationship of almost a year. Etta, laughing a little too uproariously to be natural, hand resting on Jon Marcuso’s arm, in the middle of Manhattan.

”You are a fool, Javi Gutierrez.” He turns over and presses his face into the pillow, emitting a low, pained whine.

Another knock at the door. He swears under his breath and tries to decide whether to ignore it. He’d left his dinner tray at the door; you couldn’t possibly need anything else. 

There’s no second knock, just the sound of paper slipping under his stateroom door and soft footsteps receding. Javi allows a couple of minutes to pass before he climbs out of bed and gingerly picks up the note. He recognises your handwriting.

In case you wanted a late night snack. I have arranged with Tony for breakfast to be brought to your room at the usual time tomorrow. Good night, Javi.

He opens the door. A small, round tray sits on the plush carpet, bearing a small jug of tinto de verano, some cold cuts and slices of cheese, and a little plate of old-fashioned cookies. He shakes his head as he remembers a voyage a couple of years before, when he’d made up some of the beverage - a cooling mixture of Spanish red wine and cloudy lemonade - for his guests and the entire crew, you included.

He picks up the tray and carries it into his room, placing it on his bed and taking a deep draught of the summer wine. It feels like comfort itself, refreshing and sweet and kind. 

It was exactly what he needed. And you had remembered.

***

Javi reemerges just before lunch the next day, making a beeline for you as you oversee preparations with Tony. He gestures for you to join him outside on deck.

”I would like to apologise. For yesterday. And to thank you, of course. You… obviously worked out what was wrong.”

You swat away his apology and his thanks, reassuring him that it was all part of the service. “I did see the, um, photos from New York. I’m so sorry, Javi.”

He shrugs. “I feel like a fool. But at least I know for sure, now.”

”The only foolish one is her.” You clap your palm over your mouth, aware you might have gone too far. “Oh, I’m sorry, Javi, I shouldn’t have said that.”

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “It’s good to know someone thinks that highly of me. And that they remember how to make tinto de verano.” With a wink, he pops on his sunglasses and heads with his book in the direction of a deckchair.

***

”Need anything from the shops?”

On the morning of the penultimate day on board, Tony stands at the door to your tiny office, dressed in his street clothes and holding a couple of cotton tote bags. You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

”Shops?”

He nods. “Javi and me are going to take the motorboat and call into that little fishing village near the cove, get a few things for tonight’s barbecue. I keep telling him we’ve got supplies but he seems dead set on making stuff for us, as a thank you.” 

A final night barbecue on the beach was a typical feature of the itineraries offered by the company you worked for, the yacht dropping anchor near a quiet cove and guests ferried to the shore in the on-board motorboat. You usually stayed on the yacht for these events, helping to sort out the food and supplies but leaving the guests and their chef to enjoy the evening. 

Javi, however, wanted the party to be as much for the crew as for himself. As evening falls over the Mediterranean he stands commandingly over the grill set up on the white sands, his red and green-patterned shirt standing out against the blue of the sky and sea. He refuses to let Tony do any work, shooing him back to his deckchair with a cold beer whenever he threatens to help out. Instead, you act as his sous-chef, setting out large bowls of salad and platters of cheeses and slicing impossibly fresh, crusty bread. 

“They smell incredible, Javi.” 

He smiles proudly as he turns the enormous langoustines on the grill. “I wanted to cook for you all, as a thank you. You have been so kind to me this week.” He shifts his attention to the potatoes baking on the coals, then looks up at you, eyes soft. “But then, you are always so very kind to me, when we travel together.”

You take a sip of your mug of tinto de verano and hope it will cool the ardour burning in your face. “It’s easy when you are travelling with your favourite guest.”

Javi flushes a little and looks down at the grill. “I mean it. This week, especially… it has been just what I needed, and you…”

”EVERYONE SAY HI!”

The moment is interrupted by Tony, running in your direction with his phone in hand. His wife and tiny baby are visible on the screen, albeit somewhat pixelated. You and Javi wave enthusiastically as Tony holds the phone at arm’s length, attempting to get everyone in shot. Even Vico cracks a little smile as he takes a swig from his beer.

”I’ve never met anyone so homesick. Tony might need to rethink his career and stick to dry land.”

Javi lifts the fish from the grill and fills a large platter with the beautifully-charred food. “It must be wonderful to have someone to be so homesick for, no?”

***

It was a perfect night. The food, the drink, the company, the setting: all picture-perfect. Javi toasted the crew ten times over, Vico revealed a surprisingly strong singing voice as he performed mournful Sicilian melodies, and Tony began a makeshift disco with music blaring from his phone’s tinny speaker. Everyone danced together in turn, and you fell into Javi’s arms just as the song changed to Françoise Hardy’s “Le temps de l’amour”. 

On the ride back to the yacht, you wondered why, exactly, the world seemed to fall away when he spun you on the sand, pulled you to him in hold, swayed with you to the music, as if you were the only two people on earth. It’s just a crush, you reminded yourself. You’ve been together for a week, it’s natural to feel close. And he’s just had his heart broken.

Tony and Vico head to their bunks as soon as you get on board, keen to get a solid night in before the next day’s final stage to Palma. You walk with Javi down the narrow corridor that leads to your small cabin and his stateroom, talking companionably about the evening and joking about Tony’s dance moves, until you reach the door to your cabin.

”Well, this is me. Thank you, so much. It was magical. And you need to give me that recipe for the langoustines!”

He smiles that half smile, soft curls falling over his brow and eyes the colour of melted chocolate glittering in the low lighting. His voice is warm and low. “I meant what I said. I did not know how much I needed this time, how special you would make it for me.”

Before you can respond, Javi leans in and kisses you, soft and slow. A gasp of surprise catches in your throat but you cannot help but kiss him back, hands winding through his hair as he pulls you tight to him. He tastes of beer and wine and salt and sun, of the sea, of summer.

You moan as he pushes you against the wall, but force yourself to break the embrace. “Javi… I’m sorry. I can’t. We can’t, not with guests, not - oh god, I’m so sorry.”

He tries to disguise his hurt, but his eyes give him away. “No, no. It’s okay, I should not have done that.”

Yes, you should have. But you keep quiet.

You lean in and take his hand. “And maybe this is just a rebound thing, you know? You’ll probably wake tomorrow and be glad it stopped here, that you didn’t go any further with me.”

For a moment, Javi looks like he is about to speak. But he just nods and kisses you on the cheek, wishes you goodnight, and quietly enters his room.

***

The crew line up on the jetty in Palma the next day, ready to give Javi the traditional goodbye. He has changed into more formal attire, a light blue jacket and cream pants with a light coloured shirt, and his driver quickly carries his luggage to the waiting car as Javi embraces each of you in turn. He hands Tony a little Paddington Bear toy, a gift for the baby waiting for him at home.

You are the last in the lineup, and he kisses your cheeks before pulling you in for a slightly nervous hug. “I meant it,” he whispers in your ear. “Thank you.”

You watch with uncertain feelings as Javi waves a final goodbye. You make a quick return to your quarters to collect your things, call a cab, and get off the yacht. Two weeks of long-overdue leave lay ahead, and you would spend it in a tiny apartment near Palma’s cathedral, exploring the city and enjoying the nearby beaches. It would, you tell yourself as you wait for the taxi, clear your head: of Javi, of those sad, beautiful eyes, and of the memory of a perfect kiss that is replaying on a loop in your mind’s eye.

***

A voice calls your name, the sound cutting through the crowds meandering through the city’s narrow streets that sunny evening, about a week after you’d left the yacht. At first, you think you must be imagining it - until you turn and see Javi Gutierrez moving towards you through the crowds, somehow looking even more handsome than you remembered in his dark green suit. His eyes widen as he reaches you and takes you in, before kissing you on the cheek.

”Hermosa.” He almost breathes the word as he surveys your long sundress and espadrilles, newly purchased in Palma as a much-needed respite from your usual wardrobe. 

“You are too kind, Javi,” you respond, suddenly conscious of his gaze. “And you are looking rather guapo.”

He grins and nods shyly. “I have been having meetings in the city the last couple of days, staying at our little apartment here.” He gestures to the perfectly-cut suit. “So, I must dress to impress.”

You feel a smile creep across your face, an unconscious sign of how happy just being in his company makes you. 

Javi places a hand on your arm, gently. “Are you free? We could have a drink, perhaps - some food? Unless you do not want to, perhaps you have plans. No, you probably have plans, of course, what am I -“

“Javi? I would love to have a drink with you. Lead the way.”

***

Over some ice-cold glasses of local vermouth with orange slices, he regales you with stories about his future projects, seeking your thoughts and opinions on the various concepts and scripts he is working on. You talk about the city, about your plans for the rest of your time there, your next voyages.

He orders a second round, as well as a platter of cheese and olives, and you broach the subject. 

“So… how are you doing? After, well, everything.”

Javi pops a green olive in his mouth and chews thoughtfully before spitting out the stone discreetly. “I am okay, I think. Still shocked, perhaps, but a week at sea, then being alone the last few days… Well. It gave me time to reflect, to think about what I want.”

You sip your drink, not wanting to interrupt, and he continues.

”Perhaps I should have noticed that it was not going as well as I thought it was, that we were perhaps not as connected as I believed.” He shrugs. “She told me that she hoped I would find someone who ‘loved me for me’. It seems that she did not love me for me, no?”

His expression is so open, so genuine, that it makes your heart ache as you struggle to imagine how anyone could not love this man for who he was. 

“You deserve that, Javi,” you say quietly, emboldened by the vermouth. “And I don’t think there’s anyone in the world who couldn’t want you for who you are.”

He looks at you with a wry smile, eyes twinkling. “Except for Etta Balbay, of course.” 

You chuckle. “You’ve got me there.” 

He sips his drink before turning back to you, studying your features in silence before speaking a little hesitantly. “I have to tell you something. When I kissed you on the boat - it was not a ‘rebound’ thing, like you said. I…care too much about you for that.”

Your eyes widen as they meet his, warm and earnest. Fuck. He means it. 

Gingerly, you reach to tuck an errant strand of Javi’s honey-brown locks behind his ear, fingers gently caressing the side of his face as you test the waters. He smiles softly, leaning into your touch. 

“I care about you too, Javi. And not just because you’re my favourite guest.”

You lean in before you can second-guess yourself. His lips are as soft and enticing as you remember, the slight bristle of his moustache against your mouth making you sigh happily as you deepen the embrace. He cups your face in his hands as he kisses you, full of want and desire, right there on the café terrace. He leaves you panting when he breaks away, a confused look on his face.

“What about the rule? Not with guests?”

“I’m on holiday, and you’re not a guest now.” You smile knowingly, before leaning in for another kiss. “Would you…like to get out of here? My rented flat is five minutes away.”

He grins, and signals for the bill while you disappear to powder your nose.

***

You give in to a shared, surprisingly intense desire as soon as the door of the apartment closes behind you. Javi knows exactly how to handle you, guiding you against the wall of the tiny flat and kissing you deeply as he fumbles to undo the buttons on the front of your sundress while you tug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. He pauses for a moment in the half-light to admire your breasts, cupped by the red lace of your bra, before bringing his mouth to your nipples, sucking each one in turn through the delicate fabric. He moans against you when you unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, slipping your hand inside his black boxer briefs to feel the stiff length of his cock.

“Good?”

He closes his eyes and sighs with pleasure. “Sí. So, so good. Keep going.”

He pulls down the fabric of the bra to expose your tits, grunting and muttering sweet nothings in a hybrid tongue of English and Spanish as he grinds against your palm. With your free hand you reach for his, guiding it under the skirt of your dress and to the apex of your thighs. You gaze into each other’s eyes as he roughly pulls down your panties and slips two thick fingers between your folds, fingertips expertly working your clit. 

“God, I want you, Javi.” You whine with pleasure as you ride his fingers, still stroking his cock. “Want you, want to fuck you so much.”

He groans with need and pulls you to the little bedroom, laying you down on the edge of the bed as he gets to his knees and drags off your red panties before tossing them behind him. His pinky ring glints against your thigh as he parts your legs and looks up at you, admiring your pussy as he prepares to worship. 

“I want you too - so much. Eres tan hermosa,” he murmurs, peppering the delicate skin of your inner thighs with kisses before he places his lips over your wet cunt. He has you bucking and moaning within seconds, sucking your clit over and over, working it with the perfect line of his nose, before slipping his tongue in and out of you until you come, loudly, against his face.

As you ride out your orgasm, you sit up a little and beckon him to you, opening your legs a little wider to accommodate his beautiful body. 

“C’mere, Javi.” You take one of the condoms you bought in the café bathroom out of your purse before pulling down his pants and boxers. It’s difficult not to exclaim in anticipation at the sight of him, so hard and ready for you. 

He’s already nudging against your entrance as you pull the rubber carefully over his cock and line him up to take you. The stretch is slow and intense as Javi pushes inside you, your walls already clenching around him. He squeezes his eyes as he adjusts to the feeling before he starts to rock against your hips.

“Feel good?” You wrap your arms around his broad back as he fucks you, wanting to feel every inch of him inside you. Javi pants and whines with pleasure.

“Incredible. So good, so tight for me.” He picks up the pace a little as he learns what you like and what you can take, hooking an arm under one of your thighs and pressing into the flesh as he fucks you ever deeper and ever harder. “You’re delicious, amor, so perfect - fuck!”

He grunts loudly when he sees you slip your hand between your warm bodies, massaging your swollen clit until you come again, clenching around him. When you open your eyes, he’s gazing down at you, handsome face full of pleasure and desire and a kind of wonder.

“Hi.” He slows the roll of his hips a little, taking you at a more languid pace, and leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and tender, a perfect accompaniment to the more heated passion that led you to the bed and a delicious sensation as you come down from your orgasm.

You savour the taste of yourself on his lips and smile at how utterly gorgeous this man is, hair mussed and falling forward, eyes warm and pussy-drunk and a little grin dancing around his full lips. God, he’s beautiful. 

“Hi, you.”

“Es bueno?”

“Mmmm, sí. So, so good, Javi.” With a gentle nudge of your thighs, you move together to shift positions, riding him slowly and steadily as his broad hands grip your thighs. You arch an eyebrow when he almost seems to giggle at one point, embarrassment immediately flushing over his face. You slow down and pause.

“What’s funny?”

He smiles and shakes his head, cheeks pink. “I - I don’t know. You are so beautiful, this is so good, I feel…”

You lean forward and kiss him, feeling his smile spread against your lips. “You feel…happy?”

He nods, unable to say anything more as you begin to fuck him again with a slow, deep roll of your hips and a huge smile on your face.

***

He wakes you with tender kisses after a night that involved very little sleep, beard bristling against the bare skin of your neck, your arms, your breasts. The smile that greets you as you blink awake is like your own personal ray of sunshine.

“I hope you don’t mind waking up to me in your bed.” 

You giggle. “Not in the least. I love waking up to you in my bed.”

He grins, rolls over, and spoons you, holding you to him with those strong, tanned arms. He nods to the little side table, where a tray with two cups of coffee sits, before nuzzling against your neck.

“Good! I love waking up in your bed too. And I made coffee.” He stops nuzzling for a moment. “I hope I remembered the way you like it.”

You wriggle over and turn to face him, tracing the outline of his features with the tip of your finger and kissing him gently. “I’m sure you did.”

He smiles. “I meant it yesterday, when I said I care about you. I think I have cared about you for a long time, but…I did not know if you cared about me.”

“I cared - I care - about you, Javi. More than I think I realised. Do you know now?”

Javi nods and kisses your forehead. “Sí.”

Further A/N: My choice of the late, legendary Francoise Hardy's "Le temps de l'amour" for Javi and Reader's dance on the beach was directly inspired by this scene from Wes Anderson's Moonrise Kingdom, which I just adore. Please enjoy, it's so sweet. (Pedro in an Anderson movie when?!)

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

The Dragon and the Wolf

Chapter 1

Dark! Aemond x Stark! Reader and Jacaerys x Stark! reader

Do I already have like 50 WIPs and am I really writing another story? Yes. Yes I am. But the idea of this has been in my head for a few days so here we go lol. And yes this is yet another Aemond x reader story because y’all we Aemond Stans are getting feddddd with season 2. Also another dark fic because yes I have issues. I may also try something new because I enjoy medieval fashion so I may include pictures of the reader’s outfits below. If you aren’t interested in this part you can ignore it, this just gives me an excuse to look at pretty dresses ;)

Divider by @zaldritzosrose

You had heard all the stories about King’s landing but none of them compared to the real thing.

You smiled widely and slid yourself towards the window of the carriage to take in the hot air. It was never this warm back at Winterfell and you made a promise to yourself to enjoy the southern sun while you were here.

“And if you look to your left, dear sister, you’ll see yet another pompous lordling flaunting about.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at your older brother. He had ridden his own horse the majority of the way but as it was your first time in King’s Landing he wanted to show you the sights himself.

“He does seem to bear an odd resemblance to a bird.” You joined in eyeing the man before retreating back into the carriage.

Your older brother laughed and shook his head with a small smile. You hadn’t seen him smile as much since the death of your sister in law, so you cherished the ones you got, as few as they were. “We should be arriving any moment now.” Cregan’s smile dropped back into his usual pensive expression. “Are you sure you are ready?”

To anyone who didn’t know Cregan Stark, he would seem like he was calmly assessing your future time at court, but you knew better. He was scared. Scared he’d lose you like he lost the Lady Arra Norrey. Like you both had lost your mother.

“You have your duty to the family and I have mine, brother.” You placed a calming hand on his as the carriage jerked to a quick stop. “Perhaps I will find a husband close to home.”

Cregan furrowed his brows but said nothing as the door opened. You could tell he wasn’t convinced, seeing as how you just turned one and eight. Too young to marry in his eyes, but having all the eligible lords in the realm gathered in one spot to celebrate the potentially last name day of the King was too good of an opportunity to pass up. It allowed you some choice in your future husband.

Cregan was the first to leave the carriage, ducking his large frame under the doorway and gallantly offering you his hand.

You took in a deep breath before taking it and exiting after him. As you crossed the threshold of the carriage you were met with chaos. Lords and ladies of all classes were clambering out of their carriages and were rushing to prepare for the upcoming tourney.

Many of them were lodged in nearby manors; however, as one of the great houses you and your brother had the honor of being guests in the Red Keep.

“Lord Stark, Lady Stark.” A young man clad in the red uniform of the Red Keep steward gave you both a curt bow. “I am to show you to your rooms to prepare for the petition.”

“What petition?” Your brother offered you his arm as the two of you followed the servant.

“My apologies my lord, I thought you were informed. As one of the heads of a great house you are invited to attend Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to the seat of Driftmark.”

Your brother scoffed slightly at that. “Not even an hour into the capital and there is already scheming. Lord Corlys made his opinion on that matter clear and that should be upheld.”

“I didn’t even know that the Sea Snake was dead.” You commented as you all ventured into what appeared to be a training yard.

“He isn’t, my lady.” The servant replied slowing as you neared a crowd. “He was injured in battle. I was told the maesters do not think highly of his chances.” He lowered his voice at the last sentence and you realized why as you approached the Velaryon boys.

“My lord, my lady, may I introduce the Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon.”

The princes looked exactly like you had heard in Ravens from the South. Their brown hair standing out from the signature Targaryen white and their eyes a similar color instead of the usual violet.

“Lord Stark,” The older Prince gave your brother a curt nod before doing the same to you. “Lady Stark.”

“My princes.” You curtsied and were very grateful for the days that your septa had drilled you relentlessly on proper form. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is ours.” Prince Jacaerys said with an easy smile. “I hope the journey south was not too tiresome.”

“It was long of course, but we are honored to receive an invitation to the king’s name day festivities.” Your brother spoke as the four of you strode further into the courtyard with the steward trailing closely behind.

It seemed as if the younger prince was about to speak, seemingly the more shy of the two, but was interrupted by the clashing of metal and cheers.

Curious to what was occurring, your small group wandered over to see the signature White of Targaryen hair battling a Dornish man in a suit of armor. Your eyes widened as the knight swung a flail at the person you assumed to be a prince. The younger man, without missing a beat, blocked it with a swing of his shield before advancing with a sword in his hand. The younger Velaryon winced as the shield was thrown to the ground with a dull thud.

The two men seemed to dance around the other, sending blow after blow before the Prince finally turned around revealing an eye patch covering a scarred eye.

The Velaryon boys looked at each other uneasily at the sight of his face before turning to watch the duel again. You said nothing remembering back to when your uncle had told you about the loss of Prince Aemond’s eye. Lucerys looked especially uncomfortable as the One Eyed Prince finished the duel with an easy swing of his sword.

As the surrounding crowd applauded, Prince Aemond lowered his sword from the man’s throat with an unphased expression.

“Well done my Prince.” The knight said, breathing heavily and dropping his flail to the dirt floor. “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.” You gave Cregan a quick glance, knowing that he was fighting in the upcoming tourney himself.

Your brother looked at the Prince, no doubt storing away what he perceived his weaknesses in battle to be for later. Your father had always told him it was better to use your enemy’s weaknesses against them instead of playing into their strengths.

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys.” Prince Aemond responded coolly and you found yourself scoffing quietly. If he did not intend to fight for sport then what exactly had he been training for?

“Nephews…” His one eye flicked over to your group as he continued. “Have you come to train?”

The two Velaryons looked at each other again but remained in a shocked silence.

You felt Prince Aemond’s eye on you and your brother as he waited for a response that seemed like it would never come as a nearby guard yelled for the gates to open.

The courtyard fell deathly silent as Vaemond Velaryon entered the Keep, flanked by guards and Velaryon banners.

Prince Aemond huffed out a laugh at the younger Velaryon’s discomfort before bowing his head to you. “You must be the Starks.”

“We are, my prince.” Cregan spoke for you, “This is my sister, the lady Y/n Stark.”

“Ah.” The young man said, reaching his hand for yours, which you gave to him politely, before placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile which he returned to you. “I see the tales of the Beauty of the North were not exaggerated.”

“Thank you, my prince.” You didn’t know what else to say under his critical eye. “We are honored to attend your father’s name day celebration.”

“Yes I suppose that will be entertaining, although I find myself more excited for a different occasion.” He gave another smirk at Vaemond’s back as the older man walked away.

Although living in the North you and your brother were not uninformed. And although everyone knew that the Velaryon boys were bastards, you knew that if any spoke on it a worse fate would be in store for the unlucky orator. One that would most definitely meet Vaemond Velaryon if he pressed any further. You; however, did not want to get mixed into the Keep’s dramatics.

“I am personally eager to attend the tourney.” You changed the subject, and looked at the two Velaryons whispering softly together. Though they may be bastards, they were honorable men by all accounts that you had heard. “Will you be competing, my prince?”

When you looked back at Aemond his face wore an annoyed expression as he glared at the two princes. “Perhaps I will.” He muttered softly. Releasing your hand that you had not realized he still held. “I hope we meet again soon, Lady Stark.” He nodded to you politely before returning the courtesy to Cregan and walking over to the knight he fought with earlier.

“As entertaining as this has been, my sister and I must prepare for the petition on the morrow.” Cregan spoke, looping your arm in his.

“Of course.” Prince Jacaerys gave the two of you a smile. “Your steward will show you the rest of the way. I fear we may not be good company for the time being.”

Cregan gave a curt nod to the Prince before the steward reappeared at your side. “We thank you for your hospitality, my princes.”

“It is our pleasure.” Jacaerys spoke as he repeated the earlier kiss to your knuckles his uncle had done. “May we meet again soon.”

You blushed at the touch of his lips on your hand, not noticing the Targaryen scowling at your interaction with his nephew. Your brother, who had spotted the look, thanked the two again before leading you away.

“I don’t like this.” He said under his breath as the two of you entered the Red Keep.

“Prince Jacaerys seems like a good man.” You responded quietly. “He is very handsome.” You felt butterflies think in your stomach as you thought back to the Prince.

“That he is.” Cregan muttered. “But he has many enemies, sister. The Targaryens are on the brink of a civil war and I would not have you getting in the middle of it. Even now we are already attracting unwanted attention from them.”

He sighed heavily as the steward stopped in front of two doors and explained that this was where you were staying before leaving with a quick bow.

“Do you truly think that a war will happen? The King has made his wishes on his succession very clear, to go against it would be treason.”

“Lord Corlys made his wishes for succession clear, and yet here we stand.” Cregan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. At times like this he did not look like the twenty and one years he was but much older and worn.

You nodded slowly, understanding his words but not wishing for the inevitable to happen soon. “I will stay away from Prince Jacaerys.”

“Prince Aemond too.” Your eyebrow shot up at the Targaryen’s name. “I do not like the way he was looking at you, sister. Avoid them all. We will do our duty, do what is right, but that does not mean we must thrust ourselves into the middle of this.” Cregan held your shoulder and looked at you with concern written in his face. “I cannot lose another family member.”

“You will not.” You gripped his hand tightly. “I will find a husband. And with your guidance he shall be a good and kind man but you will never lose me, brother.” You knew you could not promise him you would survive childbirth or the war that was inevitable but this small mercy you could do. No matter how much the thought of Prince Jacaerys made you smile.

To think that you even had a chance with a Prince was a foolhardy idea anyways. Or at least that is what you told yourself as you prepared for dinner.

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Riding Outfit

Taglist 🏷️

@dixie-elocin

@shari-berri

@ka1afbr

@sepherinaspoppies

Please let me know if you want to be added!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 3 - Enchant

@jegulus-microfic June 3, Word count 708

Previous part First part

Lunch had been excellent. Some silly bugger had tried to talk with his mouth full and choked at the table next to them and Remus had rushed over and given the man the Heimlich manoeuvre. They’d been given free puddings for Remus’s heroics. 

James leaned against the check-in desk. He hadn’t had to wait long to be served and the man behind the desk had a smile plastered on his face unlike the one in Remus’s queue. 

“There you go, Mr Potter, you’re all checked in. Is there anything else I can do for you today?” He said as he handed over James’s boarding pass and passport. 

“Well actually,” He peered at the name tag pinned to the man’s shirt. “Frank. Do you see that man over there? He saved somebody’s life at lunch. Is there any way you could bump him up to first class?” He did his best to enchant young Frank, giving him his best smiles and gentle eyes. Poor Frank couldn’t take his eyes off James’s smile. “Frank?” Frank shook his head. 

“I’ll see what I can do, Mr Potter. Do you happen to know his name?” James’s smile got wider. 

“Champagne, Dr Lupin,” The steward asked sweetly. 

“Erm, please, thank you,” Remus stammered as he accepted the flute. He turned to James once she was gone. “OMG! First class is amazing! You’ve totally ruined flying for me!” They both laughed as they clinked their glasses together and took a sip. 

“Just relax and enjoy yourself, Remus,” James said, giving him a cheeky wink. 

They got off the plane, fully relaxed and their carry-ons stuffed with goodies from the stewards. 

“I just need to go to the desk, I won’t be a second,” Remus told James after they’d collected their bags. 

“James, sweetheart are you coming home tonight?” Effie spoke softly as she and Monty, pushing one of the luggage trollies, came up behind him. 

“I’m going to surprise Regulus. Sirius is picking up Remus, but Reg doesn’t know we were on the same flight. So, Sirius is going to take me back to theirs as well.” He knew his face was alight with mischief because his father’s face mirrored it. 

“Have fun,” Monty chuckled as he wrapped his son in a hug. “Make sure you text your mother in the morning so she knows you’re not dead,” He whispered in James’s ear, so Effie couldn’t hear him. James didn’t understand how, after all these years, his dad still didn’t remember that Euphemia Potter knew all. 

“Fleamont, stop being ridiculous. Regulus is a fine young man, as is Sirius. Plus Remus will be there, and he’s a doctor,” Effie scolded. 

“Exactly, my love. He knows how to get the kidneys out.” Effie batted her husband away.

“Daft man. Remus dear,” Effie cooed when Remus came back over to the group, rolling a second suitcase. “You’re not going to butcher my son and sell his organs on the black market are you?” Remus didn’t know how to respond to that, his mouth opening and closing with no words coming out. 

“Muuuuum!” James hung his head into his palm. “Please stop tormenting my friend.”

“Yes, love,” She kissed James on the cheek and then did the same to Remus, patting his cheek. “I’m only teasing, darling. I know you’re a good boy,” Remus blushed, deep red and blinked furiously until Effie let him go. She and Monty wandered out of the airport, hand in hand as they pushed their trolly out of the glass doors. 

James watched his parents with love and silently prayed that one day he’d have the kind of relationship his parents had. He tore his eyes away from them and looked down at the familiar suitcase Remus had brought back from the desk. 

“Is that Regulus’s?” Remus looked down. 

“Oh, yeah. Sirius asked me to get it. They didn’t put it on their flight,” Remus told him. 

“I bet Reg is going spare,” James chuckled as he thought about the way Regulus’s face would have widened in outrage when he found out about his suitcase. “Come on let’s go cheer him up.” He took Regulus’s suitcase out of Remus’s hand and walked out into the arrivals section where Sirius should be waiting. 

Next part

[moronkyne]

Finally watching Redacted 101; Demons and Daemons

Here’s my input and notes;

THE SOVEREIGNS NOT GIVING A FUCK ABOUT THE DAEMONS AND DEMONS? WHAT. “Pets” and then just LEAVING?

Sovereigns Getting Salty™

Overthrowing gods? My favorite trope FOR REAL

So like “Starchild” is a sort of degrading name for some Demons? Hm interestinggg

Sadism, Inchoate, Desire, Empathy, Serenity, Strife, Misery, Fear, Shock, & Elation (feeds by a spectrum)

Thinking abt Fear demons with anxiety LMAO

Me and Erik speak alike and I just wanna say 🗣️🔊

“Sadism demons don’t have to be cruel—Vega often is.” GIGGLING

First Daemon, Polaris; Empathy Daemon

All empathy Daemons are childlike. GOTCHU. (I think that’s what he meant?)

De’Deridahn is like. It makes a lot of sense why he wanted his ‘creations’ to directly serve him. (Also i associated him with green but sense the new balance video im seeing ORANGE??)

Okay I actually had to take my meds in the middle of this bc I didn’t understand shit

Demons having no concept of death omfg IM GONNA CRY. :(

“And saw what morality—Mortality.”

EXPENDING MAGIC KILLS WOOO (cries)

Off topic but my cat biting the shit out of my finger as Erik is talking about vampires

THE ELLISION WELLL (ok i spelt it wrong)

Attendance at the well 👀 WAIT THEY ARENT JUST FORMED WITH A STEWARD?? THEYRE LIKE. MATCH-MAKED 👀

So there’s a ratio of D(a)emons to humans (checks and balances wtf Erik /pos)

So the Meridian SPLITS Elegy and Aria. Holy shit? The visuals in my brain rn. pearlescent river (Meridian) go brr

This might have to be two posts

So in Aria…there’s a whole new form. 👀 I’ve actually have headcanons about this ‼️

THERES NO CLOTHES IN ARIA. That’s lowkey pretty cool? I mean like it’s funny asf

Stewards.. can steward more than one. Hrmmm

Ah shit we’re talking demon politics

Daemons are biologically immortal though can die

THERES STILL MORE?? 13 MORE MINUTES? Hell.

Yeah I’m cutting this short specifically bc like three people are gonna see this and it’s not worth it

[hopefulidiocy]

Survival

Prince!Aemond x Fem!OC

Authors’ note: guys this is such a beautiful piece. I’m really happy with it.

Content warning: death

🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽

🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽🪽

My life had been magical by all accounts and purposes. I had lived a long, happy life that many Smallfolk didn’t have that luxury so I considered myself lucky beyond belief. I was born into a low class household, the eighth child and youngest daughter, I was the one they forgot about… that was until Queen Alicent saw something in me that was different to my siblings and so I was granted to live in the Red Keep, making dresses and dressing the Princess Helaena. A lot had happened since the day I entered the Red Keep. I made lifelong friends, most ended up dying and I was lucky to survive, I made enemies, I became best friends with the Princess and we spent day after day catching insects and making flower crowns; those were the days I was at my happiest. And the most substantial thing that happened to me… I fell in love. Aemond Targaryen was scary at first, he had an angry aura like he was constantly looking for betrayal. We were the same age and I was the first one on call to tend to his butchered eye, and I was the first one to see him cry. I cared for him long after that, always having a soft spot for the man that was sweet on the inside but never showed that to anyone but me. He kissed me at midnight, when we were both 18 years old, he caressed my cheek tucking my hair behind my ear, it was always flying away from me and softly planted his lips on mine; taking us to a new realm. Love. It was magical, beautiful and scary. How could someone mean so much? It made little sense to me at the time. But I didn’t think much of it because when Aemond held me, everything melted away. When he attacked a Lord who was coming onto me, he was the one to calm me down in his bed, cradling me skin to skin and it was the most loved I had ever felt.

When he died, I lost an important part of myself. I lingered in the Red Keep for too long, wandering the halls and reliving my memories with him. Every hall, every corner was a piece of me and him. We were one. And when he died, I became half. My heart went along with him and it was a time where I simply drifted through life, hoping for something to come my way. Alicent died not long after, Helaena too. But before they died, Alicent had made a match for me. A steward of the name Jason Gravesend, he was handsome enough and tall but he was nothing compared to Aemond. He was tanned, dark brown eyes and slight stubble that scattered cover his jawline. We married just short of two years after Aemond died, and I was still a shell of my former self. It hurt, making love to a man I didn’t love. It was duty, that was all and I prayed that if Aemond was around, he was looking away and knew that I made love with another man with the duty I had. Everything I knew had gone, out of my control, but at least I could control my married life. Jason never loved me, he was in love with another woman and I would be a bad person if I didn’t let him have the right to love. We were friends, though and we brought up our three wonderful sons with the best environment we could possibly give them.

Anson was my first born, an impossibly gorgeous boy with a talent for instruments and when I first held him, all wrinkled and pink and perfect, my void was filled. I was determined to become myself again to give that beautiful boy an opportunity for a good life. And I did my best. He married when he was twenty to his sweetheart and they had four beautiful children, giving me grandchildren. My twin boys, Lot and Branley, came prematurely and it was the most harrowing experience. But I swore I heard Aemond, willing me on in my minds eye and I pushed and pushed until they arrived in perfection. Me and Jason couldn’t tell them apart for the first year of their life and it became a running joke. Lot married at seventeen to a local girl in the village, a sweet lady called Rose who gave him the tiniest daughter I ever did see. Branley married twice by the time I came to my deathbed, first to his sweetheart Lina who died in childbirth and then to Tammie, who gave him four beautiful sons.

I experienced another heartbreak not long after my last grandchild, Grady, was born. This heartbreak was different to when I lost Aemond, I lost a friend, a lifelong friend… my husband, Jason. It was a quick death, painless and bitter, his sons surrounded his bed whereas I stayed by the window; watching him take his last breath. Aemond’s death still left a hole after this long, he was still in my mind, there at the back, he was willing me on to just survive. Survive. Survive. Survive.

I managed it until I couldn’t anymore. Until my body gave up on me and left me confined to my bed.

As I was uttering my last rites, in the comfort of my own bed, I saw my tearful children, Anson crying over my hand which was grabbing the bed sheet. It was scary. Dying. I was unsure what would happen to me. To my soul. I wished to be reunited with the love of my life. If that didn’t happen, I would survive. Like I survived my whole life.

“May her soul rest in peace.” The Septor said lowly as my breath became raspy, hard to fill but comforted with the soft glow in the door entrance. My eyes were only just open when I saw the tall, dark silhouette appear from the shining white glow behind him. My heart pattered like I was 18 again when that long blonde hair, the black eye patch and the pout came into crystal clear view. He smiled at me, at my elderly body, my wrinkled face and simply held his hand out.

“Come with me, my love.” His voice was still that slightly low growl that gave me butterflies when we were under that oak tree and he was placing small flowers in my hair, just 19 years old. And with that, I took my final breath.

My eyes opened, where I died and I rose high, high, high until my feet planted on the floor as if I was alive. Aemond stood before me and I felt young again, I was breathing deeply, alive and well. I reached out, scared and shaking, not ready to see if I could touch him, as my arms came into view I realised my liver spots were gone and the wrinkles that made me who I was were gone.

“You can touch me.” He said softly and I reached out, my hands landing gently on his elbows and my breathing stopped. It completely stopped as if I died again. I could feel him. I could touch him. And before he left me again, I rushed into his arms and like he was aching for it, his arms wrapped tightly around my body. He squeezed me to his chest, he didn’t want to let me go, he kept me close. He stroked my waist with his thumb, breathing steadily for the both of us, kissing the top of my head that sent shivers down my spine. That love never left me, and it never left him. He prised me off his body, looking over me with the most affection he had ever had in his face, he roamed me.

“I have waited a long time for this.” He whispered, tucking my hair behind my ear, I pressed my cheek into his hand and his thumb grazed just under my eye before he kissed the mole that painted the corner of my eye, like he always did.

“My beautiful girl, look at what you made.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, before turning me around, keeping me to his chest as I watched my sons sob over my elderly body, a resting face that had lived many lives but ultimately loved just being a mother and mothering those perfect boys to their lives now. A single tear rolled down my face as I watched them pray and pray over my body, holding me as if they were willing for me to take another breath. I stood forward, placing a ghostly hand on Anson’s shoulder, willing him to survive and carry on like he always had. He stopped crying for a moment and looked up, as if he saw me, his cheeks stained and it broke my heart.

“They will be okay.” Aemond placed a hand on his heart, patting it gently. “They’re strong boys, just like you have always been.” He strolled forward, taking my arm and pulled me gently away. I watched for longer at my children, seeing their beautiful faces before I turned to Aemond, reaching up and cupping his face, setting a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m ready, Aemond.” Taking both of his hands, his marvellous hands, he squeezed mine back giving me a smile.

“Come with me, my love.” He tucked my hand in the crook of his elbow and both of us walked into the white abyss where we would spend eternity together.

[codenamesazanka]

HAPPY BDAYYY if spinner was in the fantasy au, what would he be?

I actually make a poll once asking just this question. Here is the result:

Personally, I had picked Bar Maiden. But the people have spoken. So I would combine the two together and say he was a sad, poor Bar Maiden who dreamed of adventure and so one day he just up and left to go become a Knight. Which is basically what happened in canon!

(Ohhh i actually have this Spinaraki Fantasy AU fanfic in my drafts. Have a snippet:

working title: ten moments with the tenth prince of the kingdom of darkness

1.

The sword— its blade gleaming in the moonlight; the hilt smoothly curved, made of a dark wood inlaid with silver; top half of the grip strangely wrapped with a strip of red silk— the sword was beautiful. 

Shuuichi focused on that beauty, tried putting all his attention on admiration, because then he could ignore the puddle of blood he was kneeling in. It was still warm, stewing with chunks of flesh not yet dissolved, belonging to someone who moments earlier tried to kill him. 

His life was still in danger, and the sword might be the thing that would ultimately kill him, but at least it was the magnificent sword of a prince.

“There’s nothing I can offer you,” Shuuichi said. He wasn’t anything, he was a nobody. A drudge, a window cleaner barely allowed to step foot into the palace. A beastman that wasn’t ferocious or strong or deft, just a lizard with a nearly useless bloodline ability. “Nothing I can give or do.” 

In the brief quiet that followed, Shuuichi realized too late that he forgot to use honorifics. The Prince, however, didn’t seem to notice or care. 

“Answer the question,” the Prince said. “I wasn’t asking if you had anything to offer. I’m asking if you want to serve me.” He tapped the tip of the sword on the ground, the sharp sound sending a shiver throughout Shuuichi’s being. “As a vassal.” Another tap. “A retainer.” Another tap. “My retainer.” 

It was more than presumptuous for Shuuichi to even think about who he’d choose to serve under, but in all honesty, to any other royal heir, he would’ve sworn his loyalty immediately. The Sixth Prince was the Necromancer General, working closely with the Grand Chancellor, in charge of the Demon Lord’s First Legion, the battalions of the undead. The Ninth Prince, who could control the skies, was currently conquering the southern islands. If Shuuichi could’ve, he would chosen to serve the legendary Fourth Prince, unmatched with his blade, dying standing up when taking on an Eastern army but not before he decimated half of it.

All the Princes and Princesses—they were said to have the extraordinary potential to become the next Demon Lord. Each was already slowly shaping the world, twisting reality at will, ready to wrestle fate into their liking. 

The Tenth Prince, however… People say that Tenth Prince Tomura was the favored one out of all of the Demon Lord’s heirs, the only one to be granted the royal name, to receive the services of the Great Steward and Keeper of Gates. Rumor was, Prince Tomura was actually the Demon Lord’s blood and flesh son… and that was the only reason he was one of the Princes of the realm. The title was for show; his name and status given to prevent him from throwing a tantrum. Prince Tomura had the touch of death and destruction, which was powerful indeed, but he lacked anything else that makes one princely. Childish and lazy and undignified, he might not be completely sane. Shuuichi could confirm. He has seen the Tenth Prince scratch his neck bloody; seen that the Prince kept and talked to severed hands; seen the Prince’s quarters, which was not much cleaner than a landfill. 

Did Shuuichi want to pledge his life away to this man? Follow Prince Tomura as he goes aimlessly towards an inevitable dead-end? He wanted Shuuichi, and that seemed reason enough to not accept. 

But you have absolutely nothing to lose, his heart whispered. Why not do something, anything with your waste of a life? 

Shuuichi said yes.

The Prince grinned. He held out the sword. “Kiss the blade, then, and swear it.” A tradition of fealty, deference to power, acknowledgement of the Prince’s hold on his life, love for his new master, unafraid of the dangers up ahead and willing to die for the Prince. Shuuichi knew the words, having heard stories, seen people try to copy it. Now, somehow, it was his turn.

Shuuichi kissed the blade, and could feel the silver of metal edge against his scales, a soft scraping feeling that made him shiver, and made his oath.

"My life, my powers, my heart and body - all that I am is yours."

2. 

“My prince!” Jin exclaimed, his salute to the Prince turning into a flourish of the arm, nearly hitting Shuuichi in the face. “Doesn’t Shuuichi look good? It doesn’t suit him at all!” 

The Prince lounges on a sofa, in his hand a glass of wine, the very picture of decadence. “What’s with the vest?” He pointed. “The blue dots?” 

“Mix-up at the tailors!” Jin said. “Was gonna go get the right one, but Shuuichi said no.” 

“I like the color blue.” Shuuichi said. He didn’t see anything wrong with the vest; it was already fancier than anything he had ever worn. Everything else was exactly what he had been given to wear - the uniform of black and silver, the light armor, the heavy boots, the red cape embroidered with the royal crest and the Prince’s own sigil. 

“It’s not standard livery.” Lord Kurogiri said. 

“It’s fine,” the Prince said. “Jin already has his helmet.” 

“I must keep covered,” Jin told Shuuichi, for all the sense it made. The metal helmet obscured his entire face and caused everything he said to carry a slight echo. 

The Prince’s first retainer was the reason Shuuichi even became noticeable enough to catch someone’s attention in the first place. One day Jin greeted him, then yelled at him for missing a spot that wasn’t there on the window Shuuichi was wiping. After that, Jin just kept talking at Shuuichi, chattering about his (un)favorite types of alcohol and tobacco; the (dis)comfort of having his underwear bunch up in his new livery; the birds he had (not) seen that day. 

For a while, Shuuichi never responded with more than a few respectful words. He wasn’t interested in whatever game Jin wanted to play, and he wasn’t dumb enough to think the man wanted to be friends without some expectation Shuuichi could not afford to meet. But despite the way he talked, Jin seemed so genuine. The moment he did start to reply, of course, was when someone assumed he could be kidnapped for information.

Jin had been a soldier in the Second Legion. He had an accident with his doubling magic and it drove him insane. Almost tossed out of the army, Jin was saved when Prince Tomura took him into his service.

The other royal heirs had dozens of retainers. The Eighth Prince commanded his own small army. Prince Tomura now had just two to serve him. 

[capitalisticveins]

Early Access thoughts n shit

o h w o w

I mean I knew Inversion was gonna play a part in Sovereign State but??? Oh wow

Also LoveBoldly I was wondering where that silly lil guy went ^^

THE CHORUS WAS BULLSHIT WTF DO THEY MEAN E’LAETUM AND MIN’ARA COULDA CAUSED IT??? BITCH WHAT???

And Milo and Lasko being there made me giggle like a schoolgirl😵‍💫

No but rlly Milo risking getting arrested just to get Starlight near the ward??? Husband material I’m so mad he and SH ain’t getting married

With the amount of times Lasko kept telling Milo he might get arrested they were acting a bit like Fred and BE

I wanna punch the shit out that guard, you know he was a hashtag on the empowered Twitter app for a good week

Cicirnus gives me mixed vibes. On one hand he wants to believe Avior but the logic is there, but on the other he’s more concerned on what The Chorus THINKS than what Avior SAW (also he didn’t even seem concerned at the fact that Avior was stuck in hell for almost 3 years??? Assuming Avior told him that)

Avior’s gonna have to recruit the guy he stewards (I forgot his name)

That Freelancer guy at the end is important we have to remember him I’m telling you (commenters are saying he might be Porter but idk)

Also keep an eye on what he said when Starlight asked what caused the wound. He said it wasn’t a Shade. It WAS a burn mark that potentially could’ve been caused by another person, but I’m skeptical.

Also I fully believed that the girl was long dead and the guy was just delusional but Starlight told Avior to pretend she’s alive cuz they didn’t wanna comfort another person that night

Poor Starlight 😭 they were stuck in hell for a year and the first thing they have to do when getting out is comfort a bunch of people knowing damn well this is the first contact they’ve had with humans in a LONG time

I wonder what the tagline of the new playlist is gonna be ^^

[wandaluvstacos]

SEASON OF BLOSSOMS

THE FOUR CHAPTER IS UP! (THE FIRST 5 CHAPTERS WILL BE FREE)

Genre: Fantasy Romance Rating: 18+ Elevator Pitch: Bridgerton, but gay and with tieflings. Check out this story’s art under the tag Season of Blossoms

Includes: Mxm, mxf, and nbxm romance, sibling rivalries, romantic drama, fun sexy hijinks all around. This one’s lighter than most of the stuff I write, lol. There is a scene that takes place after an attempted suicide, but I think that’s the only thing that needs to be warned for.

In the nation of Tithly, it is custom that those of marriageable age travel to the city of Philsia for the yearly Season of Blossoms– four summer months of parties meant to provide youth the opportunity to find their spouse. This year will be the first year that all three of the Tsylgahra siblings attend: Mithleem, Anli, and Lisanth.

Three years after his wife’s tragic death, Mithleem has finally decided that he’s ready to start his search for someone new. As one of the top people in his class at the Academy and a successful doctor during his time in the army, he’s a household name and a hot commodity at parties, including one thrown by Tithly’s most renowned painter. There Mithleem is called to the bedside of the painter’s equally famous spouse, Ysaika Talorilau, and it may take someone of Mithleem’s skill to save their life.

Anli’s been to Philsia three times for the Season, but she hasn’t had much luck. This time she meets a young man above her station who shows interest, and despite her misgivings, she’s willing to give him a shot, even if the family’s new steward, Thyla Daschanhildi is quite insistent that Anli deserves better. Anli’s not sure about that, but she knows that Thyla’s only ever been supportive and loyal, sometimes to such a degree that Anli wonders if there’s more to it.

As the youngest Tsylgahra and wild child of the family, Lisanth is interested in racing horses, starting squabbles in the local tavern, and worrying his parents on the nights he doesn’t come home. However, he knows he can’t put off Philsia forever, and at the insistence of his mother, Lisanth grudgingly makes the journey with his siblings to the City in the Sky. There he meets a stranger who wields charm with just a hint of danger. Only later does Lisanth come to realize that the stranger is in fact a prince– Prince Jafkar A’nesh to be exact.

Excerpt:

       In the painting, Ysaika was completely surrounded by flowers of every variety, color, and shape, and in their detail laid Thimwich’s genius. Anli could name most of the blossoms, but the list would be lengthy and Anli would be missing the point in creating it. Anli was not trained in the reading of art, but she knew Thimwich made no mistakes. The flowers were overwhelming in their quantity and diversity, and it seemed that Ysaika was not so much in a garden as she was in an ostentatious collection created solely for this painting. This was Thimwich’s love letter to his spouse, an attempt to match Ysaika’s beauty and show is devotion with every stroke of the brush. How many nights had he spent detailing ever petal? He likely painted them after he painted Ysaika, and so each night spent painting a flower was another night he would spend in the looming and angelic presence of his beloved.

            Anli didn’t know how long she stood there staring at it, but eventually she felt Mithleem touch her shoulder.

            “Are you tearing up?” Mithleem murmured in the silence of the giant room.

            “No.” Anli sniffed and wiped at her face. “Maybe.”

            Mithleem squeezed her arm. “It’s a beautiful painting.”

            “Can you imagine someone painting you like that?” Anli whispered, afraid of intruding upon the quiet. “I believe the pamphlet advertisement said it took him a year.”

            “It’s something.”

            “He must really love them, don’t you think? It’s so apparent in how he paints them.”

            “I’d probably paint more clothes on my spouse.”

            Anli turned to Mithleem with pursed lips. “You don’t get art, do you?”

            “I get it. Maybe if I looked that good naked, I’d want to be painted nude, too.”

[stoportotouch]

wip game

(tagged by @kittensmctavish! thank you!)

The Rules are these:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

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things i'm working on are:

faith will cover your head (still)

also two further Parts of that

snow blindness? maybe? (but also that one might be finished now idk. it is quite close to rejoining The Canon)

something where ned gets sick of being in charge of stuff and hodgson uh. Helps Him To Remedy That.

the one where ned accidentally broke a couple of dundy's ribs

[piles up trauma on top of a few Terror Rescuees like the game buckaroo]

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here is a snippet from the one where ned accidentally breaks a couple of dundy's ribs. (content warning for a mention of overdose, but not an intentional one. and also whatever the hell is going on in ned's mind when irving gets stabbed even if from somebody else's pov.)

“And…” Bridgens seemed for the first time to register Le Vesconte, standing behind Goodsir. “Lieutenant Le Vesconte, Sir. Is everything well with you?”

“Oh, as it could be, Mister Bridgens,” Le Vesconte said, in a poor imitation of his earlier, easy, way. It clearly rung hollowly to Bridgens’ ears, but, bless him, he didn’t give any indication of it — just smiled. “Doctor Goodsir is concerned about my ribs,” he said. “And no doubt would like to treat a patient who is able to have a conversation.”

“Your ribs, sir?” Bridgens asked, although he didn’t seem too concerned that Le Vesconte was imminently in danger of death. “Ah — let me help you off with your outer layers, then, if that’s the case.”

And, luckily, Bridgens caught Le Vesconte just before he began taking his shortcoat or shirt off, rather than after he had already worsened his injuries by trying to move his arms too far. Goodsir could only imagine that he would also have stopped had he got his arms high enough, but no doubt he would have made a very embarrassing noise when he did so.

“Lieutenant Little has some very sharp elbows.” As he spoke, Le Vesconte lowered himself gingerly onto one of the tables that served as an examination bed. Bridgens nodded, and made an affirming noise. “And a man who suddenly finds that no small part of his world seems about to be permanently cut off from him in front of his eyes is capable of putting great force behind his elbows. As I have discovered.”

As he said this, Le Vesconte didn’t just lower his voice but his entire demeanor, and Goodsir saw the way that his eyes flickered over for a second towards Irving. He was still very much alive — Le Vesconte had probably been the one to save him from death, in fact — but Goodsir could still understand his distress.

“I can imagine, sir.”

Bridgens might still have called Le Vesconte ‘sir’, but his tone was not so much that of a Steward speaking to the Lieutenant that he served. Perhaps it was just the gulf in their ages that put the idea in Goodsir’s head but he was no less reminded of a father reassuring his son after a nightmare.

“After I have seen to this,” Goodsir said, helping Le Vesconte get his shirt off without raising his arms above his chest, “I think I shall need to call in on Lieutenant Little.”

He had taken the fact that Little had been trembling when he had looked in as an indicator just of the trauma, and he had paid it limited further mind. Of course he was traumatised, and probably exhausted, and possibly in pain: after all, Irving had just nearly died in front of him. (So Goodsir had thought.)

But his head had been set racing by Le Vesconte’s mention of not knowing how much laudanum had actually got into Little’s mouth.

Goodsir couldn’t remember quite how strong the tincture was but it wasn’t something that was meant to be drunk. A spoonful of it, perhaps, would have slowed him — although in whatever state Little had been in he doubted that it would have done so much. Much more, though, would have produced some rather concerning side effects.

Goodsir wasn’t sure if he suspected that Le Vesconte had accidentally given Little an overdose of the stuff or if he was just suspicious. By the time it had seemed to kick in, Jopson had been kneeling on Little’s back to keep him at least fairly still. Goodsir had, at the time, assumed that his voice had become slurred with weeping, and he probably hadn’t been completely wrong about that.

---

tagging anybody who fancies it!

[wolint]

FRESH MANNA

WHAT IS IN YOUR HAND?

Exodus 4:2

All through the bible, questions are asked as a means of helping man understand their place in and with the Lord, get deeper in the word, and allow the hand of God to move freely in their circumstances.

It would be great if I could say the first-ever question asked in the bible came from God but unfortunately, it didn’t, the first question in the Bible came from Satan in Genesis 3:1. The second question came from God in verse 9.

What is in your hand?” God’s question to Moses was to get Moses’ attention off his unsuitability for the assignment at hand to God’s choice and approval of him. God didn’t ask the question to get any information from Moses which God didn’t require, but to draw the attention of Moses to the need he raised.

Where Moses saw a staff, probably his shepherd's crook and walking stick, God saw more than that. God saw a power tool He could use for His glory, an instrument of authority and office.

We find Elisha asking the widow a similar question in 2 Kings 4:2 “What have you in the house?” Just like Moses, the widow saw only a small amount of oil, but Elisha saw a marketable and wealth-generating product. Because of the multipurpose use of oil, not only could she pay off her debt but would have enough sustainable income for her family.

What do you have in your hands?

What services has the Lord put in your hands?

What has God allowed you to go through, see, hear, and do that may be used as a rod for His glory?

God uses whatever is already in your hands i.e., our experiences, pains, disappointments, and resources as a tool for kingdom mandate.

Christians are mostly unfruitful because they believe they are not qualified to do what God calls them to do! I can identify with that; we always look for something that will help us feel we can do the job God calls us to and may not even realize we already have it.

Good stewardship is expected from us for everything God’s given us, we cannot have a sense of entitlement over any skills, talents, and resources we have without having a sense of responsibility, everything we have is for service and according to 1 Peter 4:10, all believers have received at least one spiritual gift from God which must be used faithfully for God’s glory as stewards of God’s grace.

What was in Samson’s hand? He was given super strength and he gained many victories with the jawbone of a Donkey in Judges 15:15.

Hannah held a small child in her hand, but when she gave him to God, he became a great prophet. So, what do you have in your hand?

What has God put in your hand?

Do you wonder how God might use it and you?

God was ready to use Moses and his staff or stick but Moses was reluctant for his reason. Are you reluctant too? Is God calling and willingly ready to use you and you’re wondering what is in your hands? God will equip you. He equips us in various ways and diverse measures for His glory.

Our responses could be, I'm good with my hands, I can help get things done, I like to cook, I am good at administration, or more.

Allow God to use whatever He’s put in your hands, no matter how small, and He will use it supernaturally to His glory.

PRAYER: Father, grace me to willingly give up what you’ve placed in my hands for your glory, and to use it for kingdom business in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT. PRAYER MIN.

[scarletknightreterns]

-My TOTK Review pt 1-

I finished the game a while ago now, and even now I’m continuing to play it and collect almost everything while daydreaming about the world, lore, and my Oc’s personal story and how I might revamp her to fit this world more.

There are so so many things I’ve discovered through the game, and even the other day I lost my mind with someone I SUDDENLY realized while looking at the sheikah stealth gear. I’ll get into that in a bit.

So.

I figured I would make a review of my personal thoughts and opinions on the game. It’s too good not to do, and it would be interesting to hear what all y’all think.

—

Things I like:

• The Sky Islands. These are so damn beautiful and a highlight of the game. Not only does the game start off STRONG with the ‘plateau’ and it’s Temple of Time, but there are literally so so many things to do. I love the sky-dive challenges, the mining factory, and that one island that gives the Zonai headdress— I did that a few days ago and thought it was actually very unique!! I live up in the sky so much because it’s just, absolutely serene. Gorgeous. Spectacular and I love collecting all the mushrooms and plants up there.

• The ZONAI!!! Like, holy shit. Nintendo didn’t scrap what BoTW was originally going to be with all that alien tech and Link’s weird arm. I had hoped to see them do something with that, and even I did not expect the Zonai to have such a major part in TOTK. We all thought they were a mysterious tribe of people long long ago- and while they were, they were so so much more. A lot of people seem to have a gripe about the Zonai, being glorified goats that come from heaven or something, but I actually think a lot of their history was purposefully burned away from Hyrule, making them the tribe of ‘brutes’ that BOTW suggested them to be; or we all tenorized. But. My gosh, I love them so damn much?! Rauru is gorgeous and I’m so glad he exists, none of you can convince me otherwise!

• The Constructs. All of them. All of them are beautiful. Yes, I know the Divine Beasts are gone, but I do NOT care when there are these adorable Stewards that I want to hug and keep company because they are lonely and deserve to be appreciated! Also, I can build things?? I can build things. Glory be it’s Minecraft. I love even the Gacha Machines because they are so cool. And the shrines?? Absolutely amazing, in appearance, and even the statues in the end where you get the spirit orbs.

• The Temples. I’m so glad they brought temples back although I really wish there could have been more to them, like, original 8, but all in all, they were beautiful. My favourites had to be the Rito’s War Boat which was super cool, and Zora’s Giant Fish (I forget the names of them, but you know what I mean haha). I was very surprised they added a Spirit Temple, but I’m sad that thatbonly had me build a construct although, in the end, I was sooooooo hype I got to KEEP that construct and ride it 0w0

• Sidon, Teba, Yanobo, Riju. First of all, Sidon is beautiful, Teba is precious child must protect, Yanobo is Yanobo, and Riju has matured and grown up UwU Of course, this is something else that upsets me. While I was super SUPER HAPPY to have them accompany me for the Temples, having merely apparitions of them follow me around, while it’s cool, is just.... it’s very, very upsetting. I was hoping I could select any of them at any time to come with me, have dialogue and say encouraging things. Like, it would be NICE TO HEAR THEIR VOICES WHILE WE EXSPLORE!! Maybe they collect things as well and can even give me things as rewards or shows of speciation. Like, Nintendo could have done SO SO MUCH MORE with them and they DID NOT (don’t mind me I’m just upset because my fishy prince Sidon didn’t get to stay with me in the way I dreamt...) but it’s still cool....

• The Depths. Like, holy holy crap?? Nintendo literally might as well have spent the past.... 5-6 years alone on this place to make it the perfect place it is. It looks unbelievable and there are even little places like the Gerudo Underground Cemetary, and the Gerudo Dark Skeleton. It’s just small things like these that I really really like. There is also the Ancient Underground Fortress which I think is really neat, and speaks to a story. Also, the Lightroots?? Are simply amazing?? I’ve almost gotten them all, not quite, but close! The boss fights you can relive down there are also a nice touch, as well as almost all enemies and their gloom-corrupted forms.

• The new enemeies. I really love the return of more enemies. The Horrorblins remind me of the Bokoblins from TP, very creepy, and actually seeing Gleeoks is a MASSIVE. MASSIVE BOON FOR ME BECAUSE ✨hydra-dragons✨King Gleeok is a B***H to kill tho... not gonna lie. Might try that again later on today :’P also, they added in the silver enemies as well. I never saw those in BOTW because, I think, those were Ballad of The Champtions DLC exclusive. It’s really nice to have tougher enemies— and the Bokoblin’s charge attacks are always annoying. The Lynels are my favourites to fight tho; their horns are soooooooo good for fusing yo the master sword. 60 dang bby, I’m a monster >8)

• We. Can. Actually. Join. The. Yiga. Clan. These fools won’t know what hit them and I’m laughing because they are all such hormonal, love-deprived twats that are so emo and edgy and need more to eat then just bananas. Maybe banana bread. Make them that, and they will be happy. Glory to Master Khoga.

• I finished the Labaryths around last week and. Hellll yaaaahhhh I’m getting my Edgy Teen Ganon vibes ooonnnnn— I literally don’t take this stuff off because. Cape. No excuses just cape. Me fancy, with sorcery! No sword, just sorcery (secret Yiga technique) yeeting fools into the air ehehehehehehehehehehheeh

• Dragons. An actual reason for the dragons, and I love we can collect a bit more from them in terms of the shards, and they don’t just vanish after taking something from them, I can stay of Naydra’s back for hours and take as many scales, horns, claws, fangs as necessary. Also, what’s interesting is, instead of going up, like they did in BoTW, they go down now, into the Depths, which is really interesting to me. They are literally like... Dolphins, hopping in and out of the rifts and I can ride them still while they do so by standing on their snouts B3

• This gets it’s own ping for literally being my favourite. Silver Lizalfos horn. Fuse to master sword. Master Scythe. Nothing more to say~

• Another thing (or rather 3) that gets their own ping for being top of my list despite being alllllll the way down here. Elemental dragon outfits??? I need to get the charged set but I don’t think I can because I got Mineru by my own exploring and mistake and I don’t think I can trigger the side quest.... :’)))) which MAKES ME MAAAAADDDDDDDD—- but flame set ~ my beloved~ dyed purple because purple hair~ Glows in the heat??? My favourite UwU

What else is there...?

Ah yes.

• Koroks. They did not get rid of these little guys but the new quests??? They shouldn’t hav.... I can abuse forest children by attaching them to rockets and launching them into the sky for the greater distance, then bring them to their friend. Also, the new little hidden challenges. I found a dandelion and I was so confused until I touched it XDD they are so creative. Also have you SEEN THE NEW ANIMATION FOR HESTU’S DANCE????? IT’S SO CUTE!!! KOROKS JOIN HIM!! I’M 😭😭😭😭😭

Phew, this is quite long already and there are still things I could list... But I think I will end this here and make another update later on listing the things that SHOCKED ME, and then the things I didn’t like about the game, and finally, the things I terrorize and lore stuff. :>>