#this has been rotting in my drafts and i needed to set it free

[benny-the-spaceman]

one of these days im going to release my tlm drafting headcanons from my notes app purgatory and that day is Today.

HERE'S HOW I THINK LEGO MOVIE CHARACTERS WOULD PREPARE AND MAKE DRAFTS

...under the cut

Batman

• Fairly good at drawing. Somehow able to draw straight lines without a ruler perfectly fine every single time but otherwise nothing super noteworthy (he does brag about this constantly however)

• Drafts in white and yellow posca pen??? will use white colored pencil for finer detail however, specifically one of those mechanical colored pencils

• Drafts on black paper because he thinks it makes his designs cooler (it doesn't)

• Dimensions in imperial and would be annoyed if you dare even *insinuate* he use metric. no justification here

• Doodles around his drafts, specifically likes to doodle bats and himself because he, once again, thanks it makes his drafts cooler (the bats kinda do)

• Refuses to leave notes on his designs. you either know what to do or you don't

• Does however write his drawing title obnoxiously large

• Used autocad for like a day, hated it, switched to solidworks and never went back

• Buys autodesk licenses for the rest of the masterbuilders. unwillingly, mind you, wyldstyle just knows his credit card information and abuses it

Benny

• Good at drawing exclusively spaceships. big shock i know

• The king of eyeballing a line or an angle and then labelling it however the fuck he wants. proper measurements take time he could spend drafting or making more spaceships, he'll save measuring and straightedges for drafts he deems important enough

• Uses blueprinting paper. there's no practical purpose for this, he just digs it

• Drafts with whatever writing utensil is on hand

• He gets inspired quite often so he usually keeps a drafting notepad on him just in case

• Leaves a *lot* of notes. Most of them are completely unnecessary and are a funny contrast to his haphazard dimensioning

• Pretty dang good at autocad! Usually reserves it for projects that require a lot more collaboration however

• Usually drafts in metric, can dimension in imperial but prefers not to

• 100% sets autocad to the light background like a monster

• Do not give him any 3d modelling software, he might blow up the computer

Emmet

• Either really good or really bad at drawings (obvs leaning towards bad. we remember the break in plans)

• Dimensions in imperial. I cant justify this one he just does. god bless america or something idk

• Owns a couple drafting pencils but rarely uses them, most of the time he drafts in marker or pen much to the chagrin of anyone who needs to read his drafts (or delight if you're unikitty)

• Started learning how to use autocad after taco tuesday and he's actually pretty good at it! he does use an architectural dimstyle for everything though which is particularly annoying when he's quite often not drafting buildings now

• Has labelled and colored layers 👍 enough said

• Uses disgustingly thick lineweights. horrible.

• Rarely if ever 3d models so he's not good at it, he mostly works on things that 2d conveys better anyways

• Although he's not the best drafter of the master builders, his construction background makes him the best at reading drafts, give him a unikitty draft and he can decipher it like it's nothing

Metalbeard

• Probably the best at drafting of the master builders, he's got the age advantage and lots of practice from making ships

• Drafts in pencil, quill, or charcoal depending

• Who needs straightedges or angle stencils when youre basically a pirate cyborg, expect robot like precision

• Doesn't use standard measuring conventions, instead opts to use the dumbest things possible. The Sea cow's units of measurement were seagulls. It isnt that he cant do normal units of measurement, he just prefers his made up ones

• Makes his drafting paper by himself

• Pretty good with 2d and 3d modelling surprisingly. He doesn't like either, however, he much prefers drafting on paper

• Leaves an average amount of notes on his drafts but has the most disgustingly fancy cursive and writes in his piratey english. Often a nightmare to read if you aren't used to his writing

• Will sometimes do blueprint swaps with Benny wherein they critique each other's work. not sure when they started doing it, but it's become a weekly activity for them

Unikitty

• Worst drafter of the main masterbuilder crew. Most people think it's because she's a cat but no she just doesnt take drafting seriously in the slightest

• Drafts like she's making an arts and crafts project. She has put several bottles of glitter on singular drafts and she will do it again

• Dimensions in rainbows, no knows what this means other than emmet

• Gives the longest, most complicated titles possible

• No such thing as straight lines

• Is entirely capable of drafting properly, just refuses to

• Leaves notes that are entirely unrelated to the draft. she wont tell you how youre supposed to connect two objects but she *will* tell you about the sandwich she ate while making the draft

• Doesnt use autocad, looks too boring

• Didnt use any 3d modelling softwares until she realized you can change the appearance of materials. that was a game changer. still much prefers drafting on paper though

• Likes drafting with emmet sometimes since he seems to be the only person who understands her drawings. to this day no one understands how he does it

Vitruvius

• Going blind has, surprisingly, not made him much worse at drafting, just changed his process a bit

• Drafts in pencil

• Probably the person who least frequently drafts of the main masterbuilders. On account of just not needing to and also on account of being dead

• Dimensions in the old anglo-saxon units of measurement

• Doesn't title his drafts and doesnt see a point in doing so

• Leaves the most vague, utterly confusing notes on his drawings. theyre still related to the drawings unlike unikitty's notes, but theyre very odd

• Doesn't use autocad or 3d modelling softwares, partially because he wouldnt really be able to on account of being blind but also partially because he doesn't really know what they are

• There isnt really much to say about his drafting skills he's about as normal of a drafter as a masterbuilder can be

Wyldstyle

• An engineering teacher's dream student. She may not have the amount of experience metalbeard has but she's still very skilled

• Doesn't like drafting on paper and won't if she doesn't have to

• When she does draft on paper she uses a drafting mechanical pencils. she also 100% collects them

• dimensions in metric to exactly 3 decimal places

• leaves very few if any notes (always very concise ones if included)

• has a case of staedtler stencils that she bought 4 years ago and never uses

• picked up a habit of doodling on drafts from batman but will never admit she got the habit from him

• Autocad PRO. Also really damn good at solidworks and fusion. Give this girl a computer and she'll give you a motorcycle assembly within the hour

• Specializes in automotives

• Spends time with Emmet on the weekends teaching him how to use digital drafting softwares (this process was incredibly frusturating at first but gets easier with time)

[sharkneto]

hi!!!! I was rereading the shifting mirrors and holding it together since you finished joining together recently (it’s SO good, it’s so so SO good, your writing is always so well done and flows so well) and I had a couple questions. Sorry if this is weird - if you don’t want to answer them feel free to ignore this ask, I’m just curious!

1.) did you start writing joining together while you were still posting holding it together? a lot of the details I noticed in HIT were referenced in JT, and I was just kind of like ‘that’s a LOT of details to remember’ so I was wondering if you were working backwards !!

2.) have you ever thought about what happens at the end of HIT? do you think they would actually end up stopping the apocalypse, or would the commission try to come and correct them? I thought that was interesting - that the commission said they were done with five, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re done with the offshoot timeline ; if they hadn’t interfered prior, that would mean they were still on track for an apocalypse, right ? I like to speculate about this. with sheer strength of will I think that five would probably end up stopping it, mostly because he knows how to work through his rage rather than act on impulse again - and now he has the knowledge to try and connect the others so that viktor doesn’t feel so isolated.

3.) what was your favorite part of writing the story / what kept you motivated to keep it going ? I’ve started a couple chaptered fics, and then I get three or four chapters in and lose it completely.

I love, love, love the world youve created - I love the characters youve built and the personalities behind them. the dedication youve held on to to keep the series going is admirable; I can barely write 20k, much less hundreds of thousands of words. I was actually thinking of asking your permission to maybe write an offshoot of your offshoot (it might be the thing that gets me back into writing for tua) but idk if I’d have the imagination or creativity to make it nearly as compelling and fun as yours. Congratulations and great work on finishing it !! <333

this got long - feel free to ignore it if it’s overstepping or weird, lol !! I hope you’re doing well - have a great night, shark :)

Hey Toby! Glad you enjoyed it all so much and thanks for the kind words! It's a little surreal to have it done, JT has been a WIP almost as long as I've been into TUA.

I started writing JT before HIT. This whole series was supposed to be a Just For Me Fun Project while I rotted alone during the pandemic that I ended up sharing with permission from orsumfenix and encouragement from friends. I was a bit into JT, I think, when I started thinking about how fun it would be to get more siblings in here, and those musing became HIT. HIT got posted first because it had a lower barrier for entry, with more focus on the Hargreeves we know instead of OCs. So, because the stories were written more-or-less simultaneously, it was easy to reference one or set up something for the other. Working forwards and backwards, with the end of JT already written (in a rough draft) when I was writing HIT, so I knew where Rob, Sarah, and Number were coming off of at that point. (The tiny detail I'm most fond of is Allison in HIT noting that Number broke his nose at some point, and then in JT we get to see the stupid scenario in which he broke his nose.)

(rest under a readmore because I ramble)

I do have thoughts on what happens after HIT! More of a time jump, to Number's Apocalypse Week, and I've got words in a WIP started about that (and a few snips shared in my snip tag, although some I think I've changed some of the details, now). It goes... less smoothly than it should, for a guy who has (almost) all the details he needs. If motivation continues, I'll share that eventually. If it doesn't, I'll word-vomit an outline so at least people who are interested can know how it goes down. I don't see the Commission coming back - the people obsessed with Five are dead, and the organization is done with him. They don't have the resources to spare to keep going after him, so at least in Five and Number's timelines, they're out of the Commission's scope.

What kept me going was a combo of things. 2020-2022ish, I had a fuckton of time. I only worked three days a week because of covid protocols, I couldn't go anywhere because of covid, and I couldn't see anyone because of covid. I had four days a week to fill, and a lot of that time got filled with writing - all of HIT and the first draft of JT happened during this time, plus all the other fics I published throughout that time. What kept me going is that I was having a ton of fun writing and fun interacting with other people about my fics. Love, love, love talking about them (so never apologize for an ask like this, every fic writer is begging for an excuse to ramble like this). I liked thinking about the characters, thinking about Number doing mundane things I was doing made them more interesting, I liked thinking about Rob and Sarah's little romcom life, and I'm fascinated by Five's whole deal. My favorite part of writing these is Five (both versions of him) - thinking about him and how he'd react to x or y, how others react to him. I love that, at his core, he's kind of a loser. I love what an incredible vehicle for grief he is. He's a character of all time for me.

How to keep going, I don't have an easy answer for it. Some people outline, so they have the skeleton of what they're doing and where they're going. I'm not one of those people, I have an idea of the general shape and trajectory of the story and go from there, splitting up chapters as needed. I think it's important to not force it, or the writer's block gets worse and then you're stressed about writing instead of having fun with it, and that's no good - the point is to have fun. If you run out of steam, you run out of steam and you have to take a six-month hiatus until life calms down and you have words again (as a hypothetical example). Don't be afraid to poke at other ideas even if you have a giant fic unfinished. For having 25 fics on AO3, I have 35 other WIP files on my computer. Some of them have a couple hundred words, some have tens of thousands of words, some of them I'll come back to finish, some of them I won't. Such is life - some ideas have legs, others don't. I don't set out thinking "Oh this fic is going to be 50k words with 10 chapters". I just write until it feels done; sometimes that's 2k words, sometimes it's almost 200k words. The point I'm trying to make, here, is that we're all just fucking around having fun, and words flow easier when I'm remembering that and not stressing about being done or trying to finish for a self-imposed deadline. You've got it :)

Feel free to write in my little world! Would love to see what others are thinking about, what stuck with them. Just give me (and orsumfenix, if you use Number) a shoutout if you share it! And don't sell yourself short - I'm sure you've got great ideas and the chops to write them out. Don't compare yourself to me; you might write in a world I helped shape, but you've got your own voice and style to give it. I, for one (if you end up writing and sharing it), would love to hear your version of it all :)

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts day 87

From this prompt list. If you’ve read this far, I’m not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I hadn’t written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way to restart. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft a while ago and am now unlocking the old entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here, or on ao3 here.

Days 85-86 here

***

84. “Oh, the things I'd do to you if we were alone right now...”

***

But seriously? Going to her rooms? What the hell did he expect to get done there, except fucking her? Protocol dictated they should go to rooms Damian had already swept and secured for himself, which hadn’t been possible for Katarina’s place.

He seethed about it all through patrol, and maybe his punches had a little extra force behind them, because at one point Bruce switched to a private channel to ask, "Did something happen earlier?"

Tim grimaced and jumped off a gargoyle, firing his grapple gun when he'd swooped down a few stories. Arcing to the next rooftop, he replied, "No, nothing. Why?"

"Just checking. You've been quite . . . enthusiastic, tonight."

Tim grinned, though he felt no amusement. "What can I say? I love my job."

Bruce was silent for a long while, nothing but the Batmobile's engine in the background. Then, with a "hn," he clicked back to the regular comms.

Thanks for the check-in, Bat-dad, Tim thought. He hoped he'd been convincing because otherwise Bruce would be standing on his windowsill when he got home. He snorted with suppressed laughter at the mental image.

What he found at home instead as soon as he returned wiped the possibility of amusement from his mind entirely. Jason, coming up in the elevator on his security camera, Damian's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Tim flew out his front door to meet them just as they rounded the exit from the elevator alcove. Damian was scowling with the determined concentration of the very drunk, while Jason looked fairly entertained for someone who was currently a human crutch.

"What happened?" Tim demanded, grabbing Damian's free arm and wrapping it around his own shoulders. "I've got him. You hold the door."

"She drugged him!" Jason responded cheerfully. "Some sort of sedative combo the analyzer didn't recognize but it has a lot in common with roofies. He seems to be more with it than he would if it were that. Didn't want to try an antidote when I wasn't sure of the exact composition."

"She did not drug me," Damian contradicted, face screwing up in indignation. "I volunteered to be drugged. 'S very—very different."

"Of course, you're right, that's completely not the same thing," Tim soothed, trying to keep him upright as he nearly bent backwards. "We both know you could never be roofied without consent."

Damian nodded and tripped over Tim's feet while Jason angled past them to close and lock the door in their wake. "Said sh'd be in trouble. S'pposed to blackmail me. 'S the whole reason they sent her. Had to do it."

Tim hefted him back up off the floor and directed him towards his bedroom. "Yeah, there's no way you could have, like, faked drinking it."

Jason chuckled at the sarcasm, but Damian's scowl deepened. "Too many cameras! Too risky. She didn't do anything though. We talked for a while at her apartment while she faked trying to get me undressed, then I pretended to get confused and walked out and Todd got me." He tumbled face-first into Tim's unmade bed. "Why's it smell so good every time I'm in here?" he groaned into the comforter bunched against his face. "Must be you."

Tim was pretty sure his face looked like a tomato. He didn't dare look at Jason, who gave a gleeful cackle. Slipping Damian's Berlutis off his feet, he said, "You need to sleep this one off. Here, scoot more on the bed." He grabbed Damian's shins and rotated his body so it fit on the mattress entirely. "There you go."

Damian flipped to his back and looked Tim over from head to toe with a sleepy appreciativeness that had Tim's face heating for a different reason. “You always look ridiculously good in your costume." He rubbed one foot against Tim's thigh, coming perilously close to his crotch. "Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now . . .”

Tim, gaping in horror, caught him by the ankle, and Jason burst into full-fledged guffaws. "Don't tell him till I'm gone, buddy." He backed out of the room, pointing at Tim. "I fucking knew it, by the way! I knew there was something going on." His voice faded a little as he moved toward the front door again. "Dammit, now I wish I would've gotten the others to lay bets on who Damian was dating. Everyone would've gambled on Jon and I would've made a killing."

Tim sank down to sit on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. "Please don't tell anyone!" he called, though he didn't bother to keep the resignation out of his tone.

"Eh, I don't give enough of a shit to tell," Jason lied, like a lying liar, and slammed the door behind him.

A tentative touch to his elbow had Tim twisting to check on Damian, who batted his big green eyes at him in a way that made that ridiculous melting feeling return to his chest. "Wanna lie down with me?"

Tim sighed and patted his hand. "I do, but I've gotta shower first. Give me a few minutes, okay?"

When he returned, Damian had stripped to his underwear and was sprawled on his back, arms and legs spread-eagled, faintly snoring. Tim shook his head and turned off the light. Once he climbed into bed, he pulled Damian toward him till Tim could curl around his back big-spoon fashion. He kissed between Damian's shoulder blades and closed his eyes, but before he fell asleep, he murmured, "Dami. I kinda would've gambled on Jon too."

Damian slept on, dead to the world, and Tim willed his mind to stop poking at the hurt long enough to do the same.

day 88 here

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Can you match your mutuals with CSM characters and troupes? Pretty please 🥺

Thanks for the game <3 !!! I wanna apologize upfront bc this is a very very short one. I don't remember CSM super well apparently so i apologize for how few of yall are included here. This was what I could manage after tumblr fucked up my draft and if i dont post it tonight it'll rot in my drafts forever. Idk man send me a part two and ask for a different set and we'll see what we can do (probably reusing characters tho)

@feitania and Kishibe - roommates

Kishibe doesn't need a roommate and he reminds you of that at least 12 times a week but he wouldn't dream of having you leave. He's so much more sentimental than it seems. Who would've thought that stone cold bastard had such a big soft heart? He lets you decorate any room you like for the most part and he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the warmth that comes with another life in his home. You two don't need to fill all the space with chatter but after a while, you do get him to open up a bit and you learn a lot from the man's life. He learns a lot about yours too. Idk, it's just the right amount of cozy.

@the-travelling-witch X Aki - cafe au

Baker!Aki is dying for your attention after the fist time you visit his shop. It was dead on a weekday afternoon. He gave you a deal on some cookies, insisting it was the end of the day, that they'd go to waste. Since then he's tried to catch your eye and your fancy through some new desserts, pastel macarons, and cute little pastries, and delicate fruit tarts. He listens to you talk when you bring some friends to study there. He's not trying to be weird, but he hears you're not from Japan and starts making German treats he think maybe a taste of home could be nice or well he's ... he's trying okay? He thanks the gods the day you ask him why the menu always changes because you finally give him your number with a promise to teach him how to make some real bread.

@sleepy3 and Beam - childhood best friends

Yall have been inseparable for the last two decades. You spent your youth together. You shared nearly all your elementary and middle school classes together and and never struggled to make time for one another. You're the only one who can calm Beam down, you're his favorite cuddle buddy, annnnd the only reason he probably graduated because got he's adorable and all but his attention span is not it! For his part, he gives you energy and hypes you up all the time. He even hypes you up for that date he doesn't particularly like that you're going on tonight because he doesn't think the guy is good enough for you. But he's still gonna help you pick an outfit and tell you how great you look because he's honest and he cares about you and well, he trusts you to make smart decisions.

@drakenlvr X violence fiend - fake dating

He doesn't seem all that interesting at first and I don't blame you. There's not much to talk about since you finished that one project together. You know, the one you two did all the work for while your asshat classmates sat with their thumbs in their asses? All you really knew about galgali was that he was maybe a bit of a pushover sometimes but he was definitely nice. When he came up to you in the dining hall and asked for you to go to a work event with him as his partner just once god i know its weird but please- you figured, fuck it. There are worse ways to spend a Friday evening than hanging around an acquaintance and getting free food and drinks. Turns out he has a crazy history, a crazier job, and a shockingly cute streak.

@violettierre x Power - enemies to friends to business owners lmao

Look I'm not gonna get into the gory details about that relationship you just got out of, okay? It was messy and not at all your fault, but isn't it crazy how all it took was a mutual enemy (the ex in question) to become thicker than thieves with Power? I can just see you and Power skipping down the street and dancing and being chaotic. Plus there's just nothing like it when Power is soft for you. Y'all end up roommates and maybe go in halfsies on a cat cafe for the broken hearted to find their new halves.

[lanarist]

NSFW 18+ Plug! Dabi x Fem! Reader HC

a/n: first off, minors DNI. Second, this is my first time posting any of my writing on any platform. I have so much shit on Wattpad that just sits in the drafts. I am not confident enough to publish my shit writing. I’m shocked that i am even doing this. But I thought about this while breaking up 🍃🍃 for a blunt. I’ve seen so many hcs/Drabbles of stoner Dabi. ....but what about plug dabi

Also I want to mention that I do not condone drug use unless for medical reasons. it helps me with my extreme anxiety. literally saved me. And I 100% do not condone drug dealing. Just wanna throw that out there before you read.

a/n: this shit is SOOO long I’m sorry. I worked on this for like three days.

Summary: literally brain rot. Dabi being your plug HC.

Warnings: drug use, intercourse, dumbafication, oral (f receiving), sexual themes, mentions of alcohol.

I feel like you would probably meet him at some house party. Full of people drunk and/or high off of drugs that were given at the party, the supplier being Dabi for said drugs.

He immediately noticed you when you joined the circle of people passing blunts around, thinking you definitely did not belong here. You looked so innocent with those unsure doe like eyes when a random guy passes the blunt to you.

Gravely mistaken when he watches you puff that blunt like a champ, not coughing up a lung once and throwing back alcohol like it was water. Good girl on the outside but bad girl on the inside? Holy fuck he thought you were hot. He’s gotta get to know you.

After the smoke sesh, he would pull you aside to introduce himself just to get close to you.

Would definitely give you his number saying, “if you ever need anything, hit me up. I got whatever ya need, doll.”

Anytime you text him needing something, he would get so excited. He would drop whatever he’s doing. It don’t matter if he’s in the middle of a sell, dead asleep, at his part time job extra cash, or early in the morning. He’s gonna give you what you’re asking of him asap.

Definitely giving you discounts even on his best shit. Original price for 10 grams is $100? He’s giving it to you for $50.

Also would throw in extra without your knowledge. One time you noticed he gave you three extra grams and tried to give it back to him. “‘S okay. Just keep it, doll.”

Plug dabi would definitely get jealous if you bought anything from anyone else besides him. He will make sure to give you shit for that.

If he doesn’t have what you need at that moment. Baby, he’s going to make sure he gets it by any means necessary if it means he gets to see you for a few minutes.

Will always bring the drugs to you wherever you’re at. No matter how many times you’ve told him you’ll meet him somewhere or come to his place. He doesn’t wanna inconvenience you.

He would always look for you at parties. Once found, he’s dragging you away from everybody to a vacant room, outside, or to his car. He wants to smoke with you alone.

Loves when the smoke rolls smoothly out of your mouth after you inhale it. Thinks you look god damn sexy with the smoke floating around you and your low red eyes look fucking adorable.

If there’s something new you wanna try lsd or shrooms etc, he’ll offer to be with you and to stay sober incase you have a bad trip.

He knows he’s completely infatuated with you, but will not admit it to his friends. Especially Keigo. “You’re fucking whipped.” “Shut the fuck up, Keigo.”

Absolutely hates it when some random dude hits on you at parties or even stands close to you. He’s pulling you away to smoke.

Finally gets the balls to text you one night to smoke with him. “I got some good shit this time, doll. Wanna smoke it with me?”

When he gets to your house, he’ll already have the blunts rolled, a pipe, or anything you want ready for you.

Will hold the blunt to your lips when it gets too small. gets a boner feeling how soft they feel. He doesn’t want you to burn your pretty fingers.

Loves that you match his energy when it comes to smoking. No one has been able to smoke as much as he does like you do.

When he starts to notice the looks you’re giving him, the way your eyelashes bat at him and the lustful look in your eyes. He decides he can’t hold back anymore.

He’ll grab your chin with his thumb and forefinger to face him, softly blowing smoke onto to your lips as he stares at you. Will roughly pull you in closer to smash his lips against yours after the smoke disappears.

Gently pushes you to lay back on your bed so he can hover over you and rest himself between your legs.

No high from any drug could compare to the soft whimpers and moans leaving your lips when he pushes his hips into yours. It was fucking music to his ears.

Absolutely snaps when you tug on his white hair. He’s tearing yours and his clothes off now.

And don’t you dare try to cover that beautiful body of yours. “Don’t hide from me now, baby.”

He’ll start leaving marks on your neck, then down to your breast, taking extra time sucking, licking, biting, and kissing on them.

When he gets down lower on your body, he’s happy to set that you’re already soaking, showing that you wanted this as much as him. He’ll wrap his arms around your thighs, setting them over his shoulders and will go to fucking work on your pussy.

Swears that he could’ve came on the spot from the moans and whimpers leaving your lips. Especially the moan that you let out when he added two of his fingers into the mix.

Will make it a point to constantly praise you while his tongue makes you feel like you’re higher than cloud 9. “You taste so fucking good.” “God, so fucking beautiful.”

Will stop right before you cum. “Nah, baby. I want you cummin on my cock.”

After he’s got you all ready for him, baby you are in for it. He’s waited so long for this fucking moment. He ain’t holding back. He’ll grab your throat tightly as he seethes himself into you. You both gasp at the feeling of pure ecstasy.

Loves your fucked out face. Tongue lolled out. Tears brimming your eyes. Little bit of drool dripping of the corner of your mouth. Hair a complete fucking mess from the many times he’s pulled on it.

His stroke game? GODLY. He’s thrusting into you like a god damn rabbit but he’s hitting all of the right places and it feels so fucking good.

100% rough but his words are the opposite. “You’re taking my cock so well, doll.” “Look so beautiful while I’m fucking ya dumb.” has a degradation kink but that’s for another time.

Aftercare with Dabi is pure heaven. He’ll hand you his shirt from off of the ground for you to wear. He’ll clean you up, light up a blunt for you two, and cuddle you until you both fall asleep.

Oh and, you definitely getting shit for free for now on.

Tags: @bakugosbratx

[muddshadow]

find the word tag

more words to be found!! thank you @spacetimewraithwrites ! in return... @draculinawrites , @emelkae , @kashacreates , @kaiusvnoir , @sleepyowlwrites, @tc-doherty​ , and @blind-the-winds​ ... i am bopping you all gently on the head. and anyone else! feel free to find these words and tag me!

your words ; review , grow , expect , black , glare

INSIDE // trystan

“Did something happen?” he asks me.

I want to reply sarcastically because what a stupid question, but that worried little pucker in his lip makes me hesitate. “Bumped into some old pals today,” I say, shaking off his hand. The words taste like bile. “But you know me. I prefer to run away from all my problems.”

“Who did you—?”

“I’ll tell you later. Don’t wanna bring any bad juju into the syrup, you know?” I grab the Crown Royal by its neck and stand from the counter. “I think you told me that too. Alchemy pulls from your emotions. Or was that about making curses?”

Sebastien isn’t satisfied with my watery response, but he does me the service of dropping the subject.  “It’s both, you ass. Maybe you don’t need the dream syrup. There’s nothing left inside your head.”

“Only my fondness for you.”

“I hope a witch steals that next.”

INTRODUCE // at the bottom of the waterfall

Stirring, thinking, Ysabelle dared another compliment. “Your purging is getting pretty good, too. Is that the school you want to study in?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

Ysabelle glimpsed meaningfully to Lo, who lounged crooked but comfortable against the far wall, mostly bored but always attentive. Dew collected the floor around them. They narrowed all four eyes at her.

“A smart magician is capable in all schools, of course.” Ysabelle tapped the ladle clean and set it aside. “But you know… purging is especially important right now. Like at the chasms, for instance.”

Louis looked up.

“A terrible idea,” Lo said resolutely.

Ysabelle continued, “It might be a good place for you to learn more of that field. Or other things. Whatever you expect to learn from destruction.”

“You’re really serious? You’ll take me to where I grew up?”

“Well, let’s be fair here, that’s a hefty journey and I’m only considering an introductory trip to the chasms. Strictly educational. Just so you understand how the environment changed after the whole… when I…” Ysabelle cleared her throat. “Seems the draught is ready. Have you readied the papers? Ready the papers.”

INNOCENT // to forget a prince (old draft)

But he didn’t like this stranger asking questions, and he didn’t like her avoidance of his own, so Kon demanded, “What’s your business here?”

“I told you—”

“Innocent bystander. Right. Standing in the forest, by yourself, with no supplies?”

“Innocently bystanding,” she corrected. “My supplies are with my horse, probably scared halfway across the continent by now. I believe that one’s your fault?”

INTELLIGENT // trystan

Sebastien feels courteous enough to come by my apartment a little before eight. I wait outside until he putters up to the corner in his immortal, busted up minivan. Tonight, the upholstery smells like rotted garbage. I’m quick to inform him.

“Just finished a batch out of the trunk,” Sebastien says. He has the tendency to talk at his own pace, like every other word needs a careful look over. When we first met, I thought he was mocking my intelligence, but I learned pretty quick he prefers to do that without subtlety.

INSPIRE // to forget a prince

A ladder cut steeply into the bluff, complete with foot shelves, hand holds, and a bolted safety rope that looked like it might hold one person for a moment or two and then nothing else afterward.

“Hm,” Diorre said, uninspired.

“Hard to miss. Good thing the hungered almost tossed me off the edge,” Yulei said with a grin. She started for the ladder. “I’ll let you know if I see any. Screaming means I’ve been ambushed, and silence means I’ve been ambushed effectively.”

“You’re not really going down there.”

But Yulei showed no signs of reluctance, talking as she tightened her satchel strap and tucked the folds of her shawl. “It’s a really important research project, I’m on a deadline, and my professor is a bit of a hard-ass. So, uh, I’d say it was nice to meet you, but it wasn’t really. Good luck!” She slotted her boot in the first step.

INSPECT // at the bottom of the waterfall

He found some shade under a stand’s canopy and waited for his final order to box. After heeding all the vendors’ chatter through the morning, he didn’t feel like talking any further and maintained a firmly grumpy expression to scare people off.

But a stranger approached anyway.

“Good morning!” the strange man hailed with a wave, undeterred by the scowl. “Or is afternoon now? The sun works quicker than I manage to! Do I have the honor of speaking with the young novice Louis?”

Equally tall, they spoke eye-to-eye, and Louis found that unusual enough to draw back a step and inspect the man. He was clean-shaven and expensively dressed like an important magician might be, with a flat nose and sparkling eyes and two long plaits of black hair tucked neatly across his shoulders. His grin was positively radiant.

Louis cringed, convinced it was a polished performance, and he really didn’t want to chat with two shopping bags crooked in his elbows. “Magi Lavonde is available through appointment only,” he tediously recited. “And she’s never interested in political solicitations, so if that’s your angle…”

“No, you misunderstand! I’ve a query for you.”

“Well, I don’t talk to strangers. Go away.”

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

I’m back on my bullshit and we have GOT TO TALK about 13x08 The Scorpion and the Frog; which serves as a good example of why you should not ONLY watch spn episodes with Cas (partially because of that scene I shamefully blogged about earlier - no I will not link that cursed post here).  The episode title comes from a fable in which the villain is the scorpion.  Interpretations of this fable note its uniqueness lies in the concept that “the scorpion is irrationally self destructive and fully aware of it.”

To quote the scorpion, buddies -  “it’s in my nature.”

Anyway, this episode is subtextually predicated on exploring Dean Winchester’s nature and specifically - his bisexuality, and I’m not only saying that because it opens with Dean in his Bi Colors Plaid (that also he wore on his burger date with Cas).

Let’s get started, after the cut!

Season 13 on its face gives me absolute whiplash because it starts widow arc-reunion-TOMBSTONE and then Jack yeets himself off to Chuck knows where so Cas can go out Looking For Him Because Otherwise He Will Definitely Kiss Dean there is no other option for the writers at this point.  Sigh.  Here, have another shot of Dean anxiously cleaning his gun as he always does when Cas has Gone Off For Reasons -

Anyway, this feels like a filler episode at first, but as always they bury the ENTIRE damn world in it and I am here with my dossier to Unearth It.

Lets start with Bart (demon of terrible nicknames and microagressions) meeting the brothers at Smile Diner to talk about some spell or whatever. 

(I am not thinking about the Cherry Pie meta I AM NOT)

THEY HAVE THE AUDACITY to start with these lines immediately introducing the theme of duality, a thread throughout this episode.

BARTHAMUS

Everything. I've been following your careers a long time. You're a real pain in the pitchfork. And the halo. Natural disrupters. We have that in common, you and I. DEAN

Mm. Yeah, we're twinsies.

***MORE DUALITY!  But as we know, Dean does not like Bart because He Is A Freakin’ Demon

DEAN

Well, see, here's the thing. When a demon tells us to jump, we don't ask how high. We just ice their ass.

UMMM excuse me Barting Bacting Boices?  What is that sexual gaze?  

Then we find out that Bart has 1/2 of the spell.  They need the other 1/2.  Oh, a spell with two parts, you say? [ I am going to scream :) ]

***Also, Dean eats the pie Bart ordered.  I cannot begin to explain to you the state of unwellness that I am in regarding how important this is. DEAN NEVER GETS TO EAT THE PIE, remember?  But in This Filler Episode, Dean eats the pie. While Sam looks at him with a very quizzical expression.  Pie -> what Dean wants but never actually gets -> Dean actively eating this pie.  Dean is coming to terms that maybe he can have what he wants.

***I am reminding you again that this is post widower-arc, post-reunion, and especially post-Tombstone.  Anyway-

Now we get to Smash and Grab.  Not literally even though I want to Commit Such Conduct at this point.  We are introduced to two one off characters named 

Smash (human/female presenting) -  can crack any safe built by man 

and Grab (demon/male presenting)-  expert in bypassing supernatural security.

Reaching or no, you can’t disagree that when spn introduces one off characters - it is almost always a Narrative Parallel or Mirror.

So we have a human and a demon (and Dean Winchester, a human who has been a demon)

who are experts in cracking open/bypassing something that has been secured and guarded (breaking down walls, if you will).  

They also use fake names identifying them as Tools to be Used ( Dean Winchester, the Michael Sword/daddys blunt little instrument)

BONUS:

Dean himself is literally used as a tool in this episode.

So yeah.  Smash and Grab are physical representations of Dean’s duality.  Human/Demon.  Femininity/Masculinity.  Dare we say something else, too?

Anyway, Dean is paired with Smash and Grab; Sam is off to idk negotiate weird artifact purchases lawboy style with Luther Shrike, a man who cannot die so long as he never leaves his house (I cannot even begin to unpack this shit; please just sit there and think about it.  I’m not even going there here.  I CANNOT DISCUSS Luther Shrike RN).

Speaking of things I cannot discuss without halgdhsag;lsa - Smash has very Specific boots (a look overall, really).

DEAN

Hey, Winona. The '90s called. They'd like their shoes back. SMASH

Shh.

***That’s right girl - do not take his shit; he actually LOVES them and is therefore Overcompensating for it with this little jab.

***Dean’s pop culture references and particular attention to the details here Should Not Be Overlooked.  90s! Winona! Ryder!

ANYWAY, then Dean and Smash bond over a caffeinated beverage -

[While Dean is doing a spell, Smash opens a can of drink, takes a mouthful and burps loudly. ] SMASH

Ahh. DEAN

You're weird.

***This scene makes me literally insane. (even aside from Dean living on something named NERVE DAMAGE as a KID.  They could have called it anything. You’re saying this wasn’t a Choice)  

She chugs a swallow of the drink and burps.  Something stereotypically associated with masculinity.  Not feminine.  Dean’s reaction is that she is “weird” - because she is not acting in a way stereotypically, J*hn Winchester brain-rot patriarchy bullshit-tily associated with Being Female.  But also, says the stupid show, they like the same soda.  They are The Same.  She shares the soda with Dean.  HIS FACE WHEN SHE DOES -

Other similarities are addressed throughout the episode (they are working for demons because they have no choice; they don’t discuss feelings/emotions, they both sold their soul, they both This Thing - 

DEAN

You know, we could help you. SMASH

No, you can't. I gotta take care of me.

etc. etc.) Smash is absolutely dean-coded.

****Also it’s textually established that Smash thinks Dean is attractive -

GRAB

[looking at Smash] Oh. You said he was just a pretty face. SMASH 

Shh.

***But Grab flirts with him too.

DEAN

I will kill you. GRAB

I bet you say that to all the girls.

***sorry, Grab - you won’t get far with Dean, but only because as he mentioned in the beginning of this episode - 

Drowley rights.

Now Dean has to put his hand in the mouth of this stone lion thing and all of a sudden he is acting....very-not-like-Dean.

[Dean looks again and takes a deep breath.] DEAN

I… how about this? What if I cut myself, put it on, like, a little piece of paper? We'll just wad it up and throw it in the mouth, okay? Okay. 

***Dean Winchester, who has been to Literal HELL, who has been torn apart by hellhounds, who has battled the devil and angels and God’s sister - all at the expense of his own life is now - afraid of spiders.  Well, technically he has always been afraid of spiders, but why isn’t ‘he being performative about it At This Time??

***Come to think of it, this sends me right back to how Jackles was playing Dean in 12x11 Regarding Dean THE episode dissecting Dean’s performative masculinity [one day I will clean up and post that analysis sitting in my drafts like a sad hamster]. That makes sense actually, because -> -> ->

that episode and this one are both written by Meredith Glynn.  Girl get in I want to torture you affectionately with a barrage of questions.

So here we have Dean and he’s not performing for Reasons, and he’s scared he’s genuinely scared of putting his hand in this stone lion-gargoyle-pig-creature’s mouth and then -

Smash gives him a push.

She gives him a push.  I cannot stop thinking about how she gives him a push.  A push to go do this thing that he is scared of; his fear being something he was hiding under his performative masculinity. Smash - dean coded dean mirror who does not perform femininity and is ‘weird’ -  she   gives   him   a     p u s h.

***linking here for the jackting joices that follow.

Now, let’s circle back to Smash’s story; why she is working for Bart in the first place -

SMASH

You think I wanna be here? Like I have a choice? SAM

You made a deal. SMASH

Wow! You think? SAM

You sold your soul. SMASH

And if I could take it back, I would. 

there is no reason for this picture here other than I needed you to see the jackting again

***How does the story end for Smash?

DEAN

Take care of you. [Dean glances down at the box, and then at Smash. She sees that Dean has put a lighter on top of the bones.]  BARTHAMUS

Alice, chop chop! 

[Bart indicates she should get his bones]. SMASH

Yeah. [She grabs the lighter and sets Bart's bones alight. Bart screams as he bursts into flames. ] 

***She accepts help and breaks free from the narrative, literally burning it down. The female presenting but not female-performing “weird” ooc representing a side of Dean breaks FREE because she makes a choice.  The lighter Dean drops? It’s a push.  And she goes with it.

Alice reclaims her story.

(Also, Grab gets ganked.  The male presenting ooc; the performative masculinity side; the demon; the darkness; the not-humanity - gets ganked).

Guess what Dean says to Alice when they say goodbye?

DEAN

Hey, Alice. Stay weird.

[I know the peace sign is probably just a Charlie throwback but I’d still like to say duality.  Two. ]

Dean’s not just talking to Alice.  He’s talking to himself; because the walls have been breached and for once Dean isn’t as scared of being different.  Maybe, just maybe, he’s going along with the push.  That’s exactly how the episode ends - with Dean feeling a little more hopeful, a little more at peace; a little more Considering he is capable of not only loving Cas but also not hating himself for it. 

[until the knowledge that Mary is still alive and the guilt of allowing himself ANY happy thoughts instead of looking for her miserably rears its ugly head in 13x09 and round and round we go but for NOW at least -> ]

DEAN

I'll drink to that.

(oh look Dean is just wearing his henley.  It’s almost as if a layer has been peeled back).

tagging @im-shaking-like-milk​ and @deanwasalwaysbi​ for letting me ramble on to them while writing this; and @lilac-void​ because you are always so kind about my stuff :)

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 13 (Final Chapter)

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

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

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

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

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

Much love, and thank you.

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

“Lord Hibik-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“... The human King is dead?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My Prince.” He intoned respectfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I glanced down at my hands, and found they were shaking. “.... King Tibertius is dead.” I informed him, my voice soft to preserve the hushed silence of the chamber. I hesitated, squeezing my thumb into my palm until it hurt. “... my… my father... is dead…” I finally released a heavy sigh, and felt my shoulders slump. “... I honestly don’t… I don’t know how to feel about it…”

My gaze lifted back to look over at him, and I shuddered at the sight. I didn’t like seeing him lay so still. I had spent days watching him, a statue on guard at his side. Silent and unmoving. I wasn’t sure I could do it for even a moment longer. I shifted, then stood again, reaching over to take up the cooling cloth from the water basin beside the bed. I settled on the edge of the mattress beside him. So that I could reach him better, I told myself. I brushed the wild bangs out of his face, then smoothed the damp cloth across his brow. 

He seemed to sigh beneath my touch, and I bent over him to study his face. His skin was more grey than green now, and I could feel the heat rising off his body. I traced my eyes over the edge of his jaw, down to the point of his chin. I committed the shape of his nose to memory, and lingered on the curve of his lashes against his cheek. Before I had even realized I was doing it, I found my fingers skimming along the prominent ridge of his brow, and my thumbs smoothing down his slender eyebrows. He shifted beneath my touch, so slightly I thought perhaps I might have imagined it. I withdrew my hand, hesitating. Placing the cloth back in the basin on the bedside table. But I couldn’t help returning to cup his face, and run my thumb along the crest of his cheek. I felt the tiny beveling of his grey-green skin, taking a moment for it. I had never so carefully studied the quality of his flesh without some other thought or pressure weighing on me. I chose to do so now. To memorize everything I possibly could... His fever burned at the pads of my hand, but I ignored it.

The now familiar ache settled in my chest, throbbing with each pulse of my heart. I ran my hand down the side of his face, along the curve of his throat. My fingers cupped around the back of his neck, and I gave a gentle squeeze. I stared at his eyes, longing for them to open again. Longing to see those mischievous, sparkling red irises. It had been days since he had last opened his eyes… Not since he had begged me to lay alongside him…

With his last request heavy on my mind, I looked over my shoulder at the door, then back down at him. My numb fingers rose of their own accord, and fumbled with the buttons on my vest. Then tugged my tunic haphazardly from its tuck as I folded the vest to set on the cushion of the armchair beside us. Once my boots joined it, I took a steadying breath then carefully climbed into the bed next to him. Now I knew I wasn’t imagining it when his head turned weakly. As if he could sense me there… I knew I was fooling myself. I gently collected him into my arms, and nearly faltered for the limpness of his body. But there was a strange reassurance of feeling his raspy breath against my collarbone. I rested my chin on the top of his head, shivering slightly despite the hot body I had tucked against me.

“... I don’t know how to tell Morgana…” I breathed quietly, uncertain what else to do. My eyes squeezed shut. “Gods… I just… I-I can’t… With everything else…” I wrapped my arms a little further around him. “... Please... Grier…” The taste of his name stung my mouth. “I can’t do this by myself…” I swallowed hard. “Y-you always asked me what I wanted… a-and I never had an answer for you… Usually because I just.. I didn’t know… but…” I buried my face in his damp hair. “But I know I don’t want this… and I know I was… hesitant… A-and… maybe reluctant to… to let this relationship be anything more than political...” The words felt heavy and foreign in my mouth, yet as I spoke them, it seemed easier to voice the rest. I shook my head, still working to dam the pain starting to build in my throat and eyes. “But that doesn’t… that doesn’t mean that I…” I stopped again, swallowing hard and taking a deep steadying breath. “Please… I need… I n-need you to get better… I need you to come back… I-I don’t know what I’m doing anymore… I need you to tell me…” I closed my eyes, knowing I was gushing uselessly, but unable to help myself. “Y-you asked me… you asked me to be strong… to do the best for…” I hesitated. “For our people… I’m… I’m trying… but I-I’m… I’m not the best for them… You are… and I-I… I can’t… It’s… I-it sounds stupid but…” Again I stopped, and laid quietly beside him. Hearing his steady if ragged breathing against me. Feelin the heat of him burn through the fabric of my tunic. Trying to sort through the jumble of thoughts and emotions rallying to burst from me.  “... I never used to think of my future… I-I didn’t think I had much of one… but… b-but now I can’t think of a future for me… of a future without you in it…”

I held my breath for a long moment. As if waiting for him to answer. Waiting for him to fill the long silence as he always had before… Instead, I felt myself being blanketed by it. Felt it wriggle and stuff its way down my throat, until it threatened to choke the very air out of my lungs. I hated the silence, as I never had before. It burned and rang in my ears. It smothered me.

“W-what am I doing?” I mumbled to myself, trying to rid myself of the stillness and slowly starting to untangle my body from the goblin’s. “I’m losing my mind-”

I froze suddenly. Not daring to move. Not even daring to draw a breath. After a few shuttering beats of my heart, I slowly looked down to confirm what I thought I had felt… And found Grier’s hand latched weakly on my arm. As if he had heard me. As if he had felt me start to pull away from him.

I knew it was stupid. I was certain it was just some sort of… reflexive reaction. But then he shifted, burying his nose back against my shirt. And I decided I didn’t care. I latched onto the hope that maybe… just maybe… he had somehow heard me. He had sensed my body beside his. 

I suddenly remembered the Dowager Queen Morag’s words again as clearly in my mind as if she had been standing over us at that moment. He has good reason to. Is this what she had meant? If Grier needed a reason to come back, to fight this… then perhaps I could remind him he had one… Hadn’t he once said he could listen to the sound of my voice all night? I wondered if he could hear it from wherever he was. If it could bring him back...

“... Hibik has been bringing me any matters of state that need approval.” I told him softly, hesitantly. “I swear… it seems endless… there’s always something else to sign, something else to review…” I sighed, shifting slightly, biting at my tongue for a long moment. “... At least right now, I can use the excuse of not knowing goblinese… that cuts the paperwork down some…” I swallowed, trying to think what else to say. Already feeling anxious that the silence was building too long. “A-all I know is the alphabet… and Korol… Ussta bez, eto chen… umm… Nazia which means ‘name’... a-ah, but you know that…” I flushed slightly. Then I felt him shift against me, felt his breath on my neck, and almost shivered. I hesitated, then ran my hand over the back of his head. “Wh-what else… umm.. Cara, and ina… shiba, onsa… your mother calls Morgana onsakin… th-they get along a little too well, I think…”

I struggled for a while, feeling foolish. But the softness of his breath against my skin, and his hand on my arm, gave me the confidence to continue. For whatever it was worth...

….

“When I was five or so, I got sick like this,” I told him, brushing my fingers through his hair, “High fever, raspy lungs. I remember my mother sat with me all night. Read me stories, and stroked my head until I fell asleep.” I paused, twirling one strand of his hair around my finger. “... We have portraits of her in the halls. Not many, but a few. So I’ll never forget her face… I’d like to send for one, I think… If that would be alright with you.” I put the strand back and delicately picked up another. “But I also remember how she smelled… strange isn’t it? That’s what I remember best about her. She smelled like lilies. I don’t know how, but she always smelled like fresh picked lilies… It hurts a little to think that Morgana smells a lily and doesn’t think of our mother like I do.” My lips twitched distractedly. “Now she thinks of me, because she knows how much I like them… She doesn’t understand quite why… I-I don’t know if I ever told her.”

Grier shifted, nuzzling himself against me and letting out a soft sigh. I released his hair to reach carefully across the bed. Plucking the cloth from the basin. I would need to get more soon; all the water was almost gone. I wrung out the excess, then gently smoothed it across his forehead. Then over his temples. I turned his head and traced it across his lips. His long tongue came out briefly to swipe the moisture that lingered there.

“I remember her voice, too… She had a delicate voice. I don’t think she ever raised it much above a whisper.” I shook my head. “She never yelled… Whenever I did something that perhaps I shouldn’t have, she never yelled at me… She would just get this look… like she was disappointed I hadn’t made a better choice…” I snorted. “I think that was worse somehow… Morgana looks a lot like her, I think. Though my mother had this beautifully rich dark skin… I was very jealous of it. I wanted to have the color of her skin for my own. And it was always very soft.”

I ran the cloth back and forth over his neck. Around the edge of his shoulder blades. Down his spine. Smoothing it across his muscles and grey-green skin.

“I think she would have liked you… I hope she would have… I-I’m not sure how she would have felt about… all this.” I glanced around the chambers, delicately lit by a few sparkling candelabras, strategically placed. I had tucked the rest into neat rows along the tops of the bookshelves. Looking less cluttered and more displayed. “Not the goblin part… I think she would’ve been ah… mostly ok with that…” I chuckled, returning the cloth to the basin and brushing my hand through his soft hair again. “... I don’t think I had really thought about it much back then… girls, I mean…” I swallowed hard, staring down at the foot of the bed while I stroked his hair. “O-or boys for that matter… I wonder if she would’ve been... s-surprised… Though she always seemed to know me better than I knew myself… Valerianus was very, ah... ‘serious’, so the court girls didn’t care for him much, save for the ambitious ones. But they were always fawning over me…” I frowned. “I-I didn’t like it. I hated going to balls and galas or formal dinners. My mother would just laugh and say that I would figure it out when I was a little older…” I sighed. “It sounds silly now, I’m sure… Then she….” I dropped off, taking a steadying breath. “A-and Morgana was the center of my world after that, so I never... I never really questioned it again… I was very good at being polite, at being gracious. But I never returned any… ah…” I shook my head again. “I think… I think I was a year or two shy of twenty when I saw… this man… he was… ah…” I cleared my throat lightly, “He was from another Kingdom… older, but only barely in his thirties if even that… I just remember being struck absolutely dumb by him… I could hardly breathe when I realized he was in the same room as me, and I kept staring… by the Gods it was so embarrassing… I didn’t know what to do with myself around him…” 

I jumped at the light knock coming from beyond the bedchambers. Quickly, I looked down at Grier, but he was still in a deep sleep. He was tucked quite neatly against me, his arms wrapped around my middle, his ear against my sternum. He looked rather like he was smiling, I thought. It had been only a day or two since I had given up my post in the armchair beside the bed in favor of lying alongside him. And I hadn’t left since. We are married now after all, I reasoned with my guilt and self-consciousness. I should be allowed... I ran through all the different things I had started telling him since then. Arbitrary things at first. The way the mountains looked out my window. The odd items he had left about the room and where I had put them. Then I started opening up a little more. Telling him little snips of my memories. About the first horse I had ever ridden, and the first time I had held a sword. About Morgana’s first steps, and her first words. 

Perhaps it was my imagination, but it seemed like his sleep was less listless when I was speaking. And I found I felt a little better talking to him, rather than lying quietly and simply worrying over the state of him. I constantly feared leaving the silence for too long, as if it were the only tether he had. Barely daring to sleep for fear of it… I wasn’t sure I had ever spoken as much as I had in the past two days.

I stroked his hair back a final time, then carefully untangled myself from his embrace. A soft groan petered from him, and his lips twitched. But I was able to free myself and lay him gently back into the bed.

By the second quiet knock, I was at the door in the foyer and tugging it open. Hibik and the Master Healer stood there, both looking appropriately serious. I didn’t say anything. Didn’t make an attempt to hide my bare torso or feet. Simply pulled the door open the rest of the way and let them in. Nodding to their gracious greetings and formal bows. I was far too exhausted to care about any of that, though I felt a familiar numbness falling about my shoulders like an old coat as I followed them into the bedroom. The Healer went straight to the King’s side, while Hibik moved to take the basin from the table and brought it off to the other room to fill. I saw the Healer’s hands glow, watched him shift them back and forth over Grier’s body, as he had many times before. For his part, the King rolled slightly, grumbling something softly. It made my heart leap lightly in denial of the numbness that had taken up residence in my chest. But I watched the Healer anxiously.

He lowered his hands as Hibik returned, and glanced over at the secretary. Then he shook his head and put his hands on his hips. My heart plummeted back down.

“Well, My Prince,” breathed the Healer, and I stiffened as he turned to me, “I am not sure what you have been doing… but I urge you to keep it up.”

I blinked at him slowly. “What?”

A wide smile suddenly split his lips, and his hands tapped eagerly on his hips. “He’s doing better… Much better really…” I nearly swooned at his words, and reached out to steady myself on the bedpost. “His fever is all but gone. His lungs are clearing… I might be able to do more for him now. A potion perhaps. To revive him more.”

Hibik could barely contain a gasp, and clapped his hands together, relief filling his face. “You mean, he’s going to be alright? He’ll pull through?”

The Healer scoffed. “It’s miraculous! Really it is!” He shifted his weight and looked over his shoulder. “Almost overnight, the King’s condition has improved drastically. I’ve never quite seen anything like it.” He nodded, smiling again. “... I do think the worst is now behind us.”

My head felt completely detached from my body, and I thought if I hadn’t been holding the bedpost I might have floated away. Hibik was dancing from foot to foot, making lengthy exclamations in goblinese. I didn’t need to know all the words to understand his excitement. To feel it palpably around us, though I dared not embrace it myself. The doctor patted the air.

“We still have some ways to go yet, My Prince, Lord Hibik.” He reminded us. “It’ll take time for the King to regain his strength. It may be a month or more before he fully returns to his old vigor.”

“But he will?” I asked, and was surprised at the softness of my voice.

The Healer gave a final nod. “I have little doubt anymore, My Prince. I shall prepare a draught for him. However, given his state... I would expect him to wake anytime now.”

Hibik squealed with delight, and I raised my hand to calm him. The goblin quickly clamped his hands over his mouth, and the Healer tutted him. I glanced at Grier, then back at the pair of goblins.

“Lord Hibik, would you let my sister know the good news, please?” I instructed, then nodded to the vase of wilting flowers on the small round table at the back of the couch. “Perhaps she would like to get a fresh bouquet for him. She can come visit when she’s able.”

“I am not certain our gardens can survive another visit from the Princess,” He mused with a chuckle, still shifting from foot to foot, “However, I am more than pleased to let her decimate the remaining for the sake of our King.”

“Have some hot broth ready for him, the kitchens can send it straight up,” I added, glancing at the Healer for confirmation of this choice, “And let the Dowager Queen know as well. Morgana may want to tell her herself however, so I would suggest she be the first you inform.”

“Excellent, My Prince,” Hibik bowed, “I am most eager to spread this joyous news.”

The Healer bowed deeply as well, then they both made their way out. I closed the door behind them, my entire body tingling. Now that they were gone, I pinched myself hard to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. My feet carried me back to the bedroom of their own accord. And I climbed into the bed and slipped up alongside him. Almost as soon as I settled, Grier rolled into me, tucking himself into my chest once more. I felt his contented sigh against my breastbone, and nearly shivered from the sensation. I wrapped my arms gently around him, resting my chin on the top of his head once more.

“... I think Josep knew before I did.” I told him softly, running my hands up and down his back. “He was always lingering late into the night. Always refilling my wine as soon as it emptied… I’m not sure h-how he knew… I noticed the long glances, and couldn’t help a few of my own…” I sighed, burying my nose in his hair for a moment. “He was… cute… Just a little shorter than me, but thin as a bean pole… his hair was raven black, and his eyes were a soft stormy grey… But bright as the moon at midnight...”

….

A few hours later, I adjusted the flowers, plucking a few errant leaves and placing them in the waste bin. Morgana was an... ambitious picker. Sometimes the roots and half the rest of the plant came along with the bloom. But she always picked the best and most colorful flowers, and the bouquet she had brought was perhaps her largest and loveliest yet. Not for the least because of her enthusiasm presenting them. The room felt anxiously still in her absence and I brushed my fingers over the petals, drawing in a deep breath of their soft scent. Trying unsuccessfully to calm my racing heart now that I was alone again... Nearly alone.

“... Been making yourself at home, have you?”

I jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of the thin voice from over my shoulder. My heart leapt into my throat as I spun on my heel, and my eyes shot wide. A wry, tired smile greeted me, set below glittering scarlet eyes that shifted around the room only briefly before settling on me. I tried to remember the last time I had seen them... I didn’t realize how much I had missed them until that moment.

Grier. 

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. I stared at him, my eyes, frozen in place. Not entirely convinced I wasn’t dreaming. Hardly able to believe what I was seeing as the goblin slowly eased himself up to sit with his back against the headboard. He cocked his head to the side, raising one slender brow at me.

“I come back from the dead, and this is the greeting I receive?” He pouted. “Honestly, I think I was hoping for a bit more-”

I was at the bed before he had even finished forming the words. I caught the back of his head in my hand, nearly falling over him as I kneeled on the side of the mattress in my desperation to reach him. Crashing our mouths together so suddenly it was almost painful. His words sputtered against my lips, but then I could taste his smile again and my heart ached. Gods, I had missed that too. The warmth of his kiss, the shape of his mouth. I didn’t want to leave it again. His own hand came up, cupping my jaw, returning my kiss with such enthusiasm I thought my lungs might just collapse. Which only served to remind me that I had forgotten how to breathe.

I pulled back, gasping for air for half a second. Then dove back in to kiss him again. Now I could feel his weak laughter bubbling against my lips. Gently he pulled himself away, stroking his hand along my cheek to still my pursuit, running his thumb under my eye.

“Now that’s more like it.” He murmured dreamily, his eyes looking carefully back and forth between mine.

I flushed deeply, feeling the heat sweep across my face with a fury to match how his own feverish skin had once been. I started to pull away bashfully. “I-I’m sorry-”

He pushed the words back into my mouth with another kiss, forcing them deep into my throat in denial of them. My heart thrummed with delight. I lost myself for a moment more, and our kiss deepened. But he felt weaker than I remembered, his press intense but not as strong. I reminded myself of the state of him, and did not fight to keep our mouths locked when he finally pulled back again. Even though I longed to do so...

“H-how are you feeling?” I asked breathlessly instead, lingering with the tips of our noses brushing together. I gripped the back of his neck firmly, as if afraid letting go would allow him to float off again, slowly easing to sit on the mattress beside him.

“Tired.” He admitted. “And by the Gods I can’t remember ever having been this hungry before in my life…” His smile returned, pointy teeth and all. “But better… much better.” His thumb traced the edge of my lashes. “... Now that I’ve seen you again.”

I couldn’t help laughing in relief, but it broke as it fell away from my lips, and I saw his brow furrow with concern. I shook my head and his hand at my cheek weakly moved to still me. He reached out with his free one, and I didn’t hesitate to meet it with mine between us. Intertwining our fingers together.

“I-I… I thought that… I thought…” I choked on the words, my lips trembling.

Grier kissed them gently. Stilling them with his own. He peeled back slowly, only to lean back in half a breath later to lightly kiss them again. I spun like a top, my heart racing so fast in my breast I wasn’t entirely sure it was beating at all.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, my young Prince” He assured me sweetly, and I stumbled over another laugh.

“I… I-I… I’ve been thinking… I’ve been thinking a lot…” I breathed, my voice still shaky.

“Uh-oh,” He mused, “That sounds ominous. Should I prepare myself?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “Would you sh-shut up for half a second?” I belittled the words with a light hearted tone, and punctuated it with a kiss of my own. 

In truth, I was so happy to hear his voice again, I could have collapsed from relief. I wanted to hear it more. I wanted to listen to his voice for days, and to stare into those scarlet eyes, and feel the shape of his mouth against mine. But… He smiled against me, and tried to kiss me again as I pulled away. I shook my head. I had something to say, and I needed to say it, before I lost my nerve.

 “I-I’ve been thinking… a-and... I’ve decided… I d-decided that… I-I…”

“I hope this isn’t a farewell speech.” He teased as I fumbled for the words again. I shot him a look, and he quickly clamped his mouth shut. But damn that his smirk wasn’t still there on those blasted lips of his.

I took a deep, steadying breath. Staring down at our laps to avoid the temptation of his mouth. The silence rang heavy for a second, and I felt him squeeze my hand encouragingly. I could’ve collapsed with the emotion that sent spinning through me. He had barely been up for five minutes and already he was seeking to give me whatever support he could... Reminding me exactly why I had so much to say… So I sucked in a full lungful of as much air as I could possibly manage.

“... I don’t want to move into your rooms. And I don’t want you to move into mine. I want to have new rooms. To be our rooms. Up in the tower, with a balcony. But the bedroom doesn’t need a window, that way it stays dark. So you can still sleep in. And I want a bed that’s so big I might sometimes lose you in it. A-and I want a room off to one side that we can use as a nursery… Painted yellow… and I want to adopt… but I also want a few kids of yours… I-I don’t think I could do mine, because I really don’t want to sleep with anyone else and if there’s a way that maybe you didn’t have to lay with anyone either I-I think that would be better. But there is absolutely NO way I’m doing th-the ‘magical route’ and… and I’m still not even sure you weren’t just messing with me. I want to bring one of the portraits of my mother, and put her in the sitting room. Over the fireplace. B-but that means no kissing there, because I don’t want her staring at us. Then I want thrones, for the throne room. Proper thrones, not just poofy chairs. Because I’m not sitting on the floor, and if we have audiences with anyone (which we should), we’ll need a proper throne room. And I want to go to the ocean, every few years at least. I want to sit on the beach with you and watch the sunset, preferably on our anniversary. And I want a dog. Not a small dog, a big dog. Like a hunting dog. I-I don’t know if you like dogs, but I’d like one. And if I get a dog, Morgana is going to want a dog too, so we’ll just have to have two big dogs and… and…”

I glanced up at this point amid my rush of words that spilled out unchecked. And dropped off at the sight of Grier’s face. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen his eyes so wide. I thought they might fall out of his head. I shifted nervously, glancing down at our hands then back up at him. Not sure what it was I saw on his features and suddenly feeling shy.

“O-or… or you know… we could talk about it more… i-if you wanted-”

Once again he cut off my words with a kiss. I started at first, then instantly melted against him. He weakly pulled me closer, and I obliged his whim, until he could wrap his arm around my neck. He fell sideways to the mattress and onto his back, pulling me with him, releasing my hand to grope up my side. Slipping beneath my loose tunic to skim over my bare skin. My heart leaped and thudded and I fed him a tiny gasp.

“W-wait, you’re still-” I tried to pull away, but the goblin stubbornly kept himself latched around me. I dared not pull too hard, as I didn’t want to hurt him. “Y-you’re still healing.” I managed to mumble out against his lips.

“I don’t care.” He growled, but dropped back, peering up at me draped over him. “I just… I don’t care… I’m so… I’m just so…” He pulled me down, kissing me again. It was softer this time, as tender as any first kiss. But so full to bursting of emotion that I felt like I could taste it in my heart. After a few hot breaths, he finally pulled back again. “... Exactly how long have I been out??” He teased.

A pained look swept across my face, and his hand quickly came around to cup my jaw again soothingly. “I-I thought… I thought you were going to die…” I whispered, my voice as weak as his touch, “I thought I was going to lose you… a-and then I realized… I realized I had been so s-scared of having something to lose… that I didn’t even realize I was already losing it… I didn’t…” I took a deep steadying breath. “I-I told myself that if you woke up… if you got better… I wouldn’t... I-I … I don’t want to spend the rest of my life w-wondering… wondering what I could have had… but was too afraid to want…”

“... And what do you want?” He asked quietly as my voice petered out, his scarlet eyes growing warm.

“... I want you, Grier…” I breathed, the air fluttering in my chest, and his grip tightened at the sound of his name falling from my lips, “I want you. I want all of you…”

When our mouths met again, it was not with heat. It was… soft… Like petals brushing together. As delicate as a champagne flute, and filled with that same bubbly sweetness… I sunk into his mouth, as deep as I could go. I never wanted to come up for air. I fell beneath the waves of his emotion and I was content to let myself drown that I could fill my lungs with it. The warmth I had been missing filled my chest; that warmth that only he could bring to me. And it spread out to the very tips of my fingers and toes.

I’m not sure how long we remained interlaced together, our mouths moving in unison. But finally, we pulled apart. Neither one initiating our separation, both simply feeling it was the right moment to. I felt his breath on my face and realized I had closed my eyes. I let them slowly flutter open, and when I looked down at those dazzlingly scarlet eyes… I smiled.

His hand came up, his thumb tracing across my lips. Marveling at the shape of them. Which only made my smile grow, though I flushed shyly at his attention and darted my eyes to the side. I couldn’t remember the last time I had smiled… A soft wonder filled those ruby reds of his, and I suddenly and desperately longed to kiss him again. To taste every inch of him that my mouth could reach. Instead I slowly started to sit up. Gently pulling him with me.

“Y-you need to eat.” I told him softly. “To build up your strength…” I caught his hand as he slowly let it slide down my cheek, and I pressed it against my chest above my heart. “You need to get better. All the way better.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Good.” I said in a warning tone. “B-because I swear to the Gods and all that is holy, if you ever put me through that again, I will kill you.”

His boisterous laughter was drowned out by an eager knock at the door, quickly followed by said door opening. Hibik bustled in, near vibrating with delight. Tears in his eyes. I quickly adjusted myself to put a little space between us, my blush darkening.

“My King!” He cried, coming over, then bowing repeatedly. “Oh! Blesha’la ontow’a, you are awake!

“Ah, Hibik!” He grinned, reaching out to clasp the smaller goblin’s extended hand. “Am I glad to see you.”

“Likewise, my King.” He bowed repeatedly, shaking Grier’s hand vigorously. “Please, please tell me if I can be of any assistance! I have missed serving you with all my heart.”

“Well, my old friend,” He mused, “It seems I need to get back to full strength.” He brought his now freed hand up to stroke my cheek again, and I felt a fresh flush rising to my face at his touch. “After all, I have a Prince to marry!”

My eyes widened slightly at that. “... A-ah… O-oh…. Ummm…”

Hibik also fell silent, suddenly looking down at his feet and shuffling them. Grier looked back and forth between the two of us. His brow furrowed and his lips pursed.

“... Am I missing something here?”

“Well, my King, the thing… Per your wishes… ah.. The thing... the thing is… ah…” Hibik stammered, then glanced at me desperately.

I cleared my throat, hiding the twitching smile at the corners of my lips. “The thing is…technically…. technically… we’re already married.”

Grier stared at me for a long, long moment.

“... I beg your pardon?”

….

It took three days and many loud arguments to convince the goblin that he could not, in fact, nullify the marriage license just to ‘do it the right way’. And no, it didn’t matter that he was the King. It would in turn put our Treaty at risk, and would cause far too many ramifications, many that were possibly not even conceivable at that moment. It took a week for him to stop grumbling about it at every opportunity.

I stayed with him throughout that time. Making sure he ate. Watching him sleep. The first night I woke him up twice, just to be certain he could be roused. He was not a fan of that, but as I seemed insistent, he would merely blink at me a few times, give an exasperated sigh, then snuggle deeper into my arms. It delighted him endlessly that I had completely given up any semblance of pretending we should sleep separately. So he indulged my anxious checking and fussing to the best of his ability. As long as it meant I was never more than an arms length away.

Now I tried not to stare too much, tried to limit it to the occasional glance over at him. My nerves were shot, but despite the anxiousness swelling around me… Every time our eyes met, he smiled. And I felt my heart skip. 

Morgana bounced eagerly, alternating between walking at our side and darting ahead. She circled around us, as we were moving far too slowly for her liking, checking and assessing each bobble and bit in the hall on the way to the gardens.

Grier stumbled weakly, and I jerked forward to catch him. He looked up at me, flashing his pearly whites. “I’m alright.” He assured me.

“Perhaps we should wait until you are a little stronger-”

He waved his free hand, using my offered arm to carefully straighten himself. “As you refuse to leave my side for more than a minute, and Morgana informed me you haven’t been outside since I fell ill,” he began, his voice breathy, “You leave me no choice but to forcibly escort you to the gardens, my young Prince.”

“I-I think you are… exaggerating a little to say that I r-refuse-” I stammered, rubbing the back of my neck with my free hand.

The King chuckled. “Mmm. Alright then, have it your way.” He interrupted, casting me a sidelong glance. “As your proper etiquette and honor will not allow you to leave your King’s side when he is under duress, it is my responsibility to be certain that you see some sunlight now and again.” His smile grew as Morgana darted back over to us. “Besides, I am bored of my rooms. The fresh air will do me some good, I am sure.”

Morgana returned his grin, bouncing in place. “Just wait until you see the surprise we have planned for you!” She told us. “It’ll make you both feel all better.”

I sighed, relenting and pushing her hair back out of her face for perhaps the hundredth time since we had started our trek. “Chickadee, where do you keep all your energy?” She giggled. “I’m tired just watching you.”

She pushed my hand away and started to dart back up the hallway. “Well, maybe if you ever slept anymore, you wouldn’t be so tired, Niko!” She exclaimed.

I cleared my throat and avoided Grier’s scolding eye. I also pretended not to notice he kept his arm wrapped around mine as we continued down the hall. It was better, I told myself. I could offer him more support that way. He still wasn’t back to his full strength yet, and this walk would likely push him to the extremes of what he had. But we were almost there.

Morgana’s head disappeared around the corner, and I felt my brow scrunch slightly as I watched her. The goblin’s fingers squeezed my arm gently, and I glanced down at him.

“Everything alright?” He asked, his voice tender.

I sighed quietly. “... I-I’m not sure she…” I swallowed, looking down at our feet. “M-maybe I didn’t explain King Tibertius’ passing to her as well as I should have…” My brow furrowed a little more. “Perhaps I was… too cold… I don’t think she understands-”

“You were very gentle.” He assured me, giving my arm another gentle squeeze and falling silent for a moment as we rounded the same corner we had seen Morgana disappear past. But when he spotted her further up the hall, dancing from foot to foot until she saw us again then darting off once more, he continued softly. “She’s young. And I don’t think she was very close to your father. She may not have fully processed it yet, being here.”

“How…” I stopped, but he gave me an encouraging nod. “H-how were you told? About your father, I mean?”

Grier thought about that for a moment, and we walked arm in arm quietly down the hall.

“It was… sudden.” He replied after a time. “He was badly injured in a skirmish…. I’m sure future historians will cite that as the instigating incidence of the hostility between our people…” I winced, but he patted my arm reassuringly. “That morning he was fine, and we… I am sure we broke fast together, because we usually did, but I don’t remember that day specifically… Then by that evening, he had passed.”

I winced. “I shouldn’t have brought it up, I apologize-”

“It’s ok.” He shook his head. “I don’t remember much at all from then. I don’t think I even knew he had been injured until both him and my mother missed dinner with me that evening. And I wasn’t brought to see him… not until after he had passed and they had… cleaned him up.” He tilted his head to the side, thinking for a long moment. “I remember being… sad, but more confused. I kept… forgetting, I guess. I would expect to see him places, and I think I asked about it once or twice before it really sank in that he was just… gone. And this is despite the fact that I saw his body.”

His steps had slowed, and I matched them carefully. After a moment, we had both come to a full stop, and he turned towards me, sliding his hands down to catch mine. I hesitated, trying to figure out what he needed in that moment. An apology? A story of my own? Perhaps he wanted space, or silence… or did he want some sort of embrace? I faltered, staring down at our hands and carefully running my thumbs over his. And feeling wholly inadequate not knowing how to comfort him. If that was even what he needed…

“... Morgana will be alright,” He told me after a few moments of silence, “She has you. And she is safe here.” Grier gave my hands a gentle squeeze, and I nodded timidly. The goblin shook himself, and I could hear his smile lacing his next words. “But come! Let’s not spoil our first outing in weeks.” I met his eyes, and felt a little more confident at the warmth in them. “We can talk more later, if you want to.”

I followed his lead as he turned to finish the last stretch before the main doors to the gardens. I didn’t even bother with an excuse, keeping his hand locked in my own and tucking it in my elbow. He moved a little closer, hooking his arm in mine until our thighs almost brushed as we walked.

Morgana had managed to push the massive door open on her own, and was waiting excitedly on the stairs before the gardens. She smiled at us as we approached then waved for us to follow her before taking off down the steps and onto the gravel. It crunched delightfully under her little feet, and I took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air as we made our way down the stairs as well, then out onto the path. The sun was bright and warm despite the chill, and I almost sighed as it splashed across my face. A few yards down, we rounded one of the hedges to find a thick blanket spread over the grass. There was a basket set there, and a few books, as well as some flowers tied in bundles that had Morgana’s signature roots and stems still attached. Safa and Seoc waited there, and they bowed to us as we approached. I felt a slight flush rise to my face, but tried not to let my step falter as I guided the King over.

My sister was already digging into the basket, pulling out dishes and bundles of food to pass to the other goblins, who helped her set the blanket. I couldn’t resist watching Safa with a rather critical eye, considering the way she interacted with my sister. I hadn’t had a chance to properly vet her before everything had happened, and found myself a little untrusting of her. After all, what did I know of this goblin? And she had been spending a lot of time with Morgana while I was tending the King. What if she was not the right influence for an impressionable young princess?

“Try not to scare the poor girl.” Came Grier’s quiet voice in my ear as I helped to carefully lower him to sit amid the pillows set on one side of the large blanket.

I looked at him in surprise, and his grin nearly split his face. I carefully fixed my expression, though I couldn’t completely hide the tightness in my voice as I replied. “I do not know what you mean, Your Majesty.”

Grier scoffed, tugging on my vest until I hesitantly settled onto the ground beside him. “Don’t start with that again.” He warned. Then he jerked his chin at the others a few feet away. “Your sister’s new Lady in Waiting. I saw that look.”

“What look?” I grumbled, my voice equally as soft as I watched Safa whisper something to Morgana. My sister laughed, glancing over at us. I felt my cheeks flush slightly.

The King’s chuckle answered me. “I had all of the ladies screened before I let them meet your sister.” He told me, shifting to sit a little closer to me. I stiffened at his proximity, feeling my face flush again. “Safa is from a good family, and she has a kind heart. Give her a chance, yes?”

I resisted the urge to scowl, considering the pair as they whispered and giggled to each other. Though I had to admit, Morgana did seem very pleased with her new Lady. Perhaps Safa felt my gaze on her, because her eyes darted up to me. I saw her shuffle nervously, offering me a slight bow. She glanced over at Morgana, then at Seoc, as if uncertain what to do with herself beneath my scrutiny.

Grier smacked my shoulder lightly. I started, turning my attention to him. “Leave the girl be.” He scolded good-naturedly. Then his smile tweaked at the corners. “Though I have to say, I like seeing this protectiveness of yours. Especially being on this side of it… Perhaps the father bear in you will be a boon to us in the near future.”

I didn’t get a chance to comment on that, as I had to suddenly struggle to keep myself upright as Morgana launched herself into me. My face instantly softened, and she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“This is lovely, Chickadee,” I told her, “Thank you for it.”

“It was Safa’s idea!” She replied, turning to settle properly on my lap and pulling a dish of finger foods over to us. “She said you and Grier deserved some quiet time together now that he was feeling better, and said since you have both been cooped up inside the fresh air would be good for you.”

I pretended not to notice Grier’s smug smirk, taking the offered nibble from her. “W-well… that was very thoughtful of her.”

“I did the flowers though!” She explained through a mouthful of food, sliding the tray over to Grier. “And I helped her cook!”

“Then we owe both of you our gratitude, little bird.” He mused, taking a piece of food and tossing it in the air to catch it in his mouth. She giggled, then promptly tried to do the same with far less success.

She babbled on about this and that for a while as we ate, then bounded out of my lap to sprint across the green. Safa turned from her conversation with Seoc a few yards away, and both beamed at the Princess who tugged lightly on the goblin’s colorful skirts. I watched quietly, taking a slow sip of the hot coffee my sister had sloppily poured us. I heard Grier’s relaxed sigh, turning my attention back to him.

“... How are you feeling?” I asked him nervously.

He groaned lightly, scooching a little closer and leaning his shoulder against my arm. “If one more person asks me that, I’m going to scream.”

I raised one brow, trying to pretend my heart wasn’t racing at his touch. “I suppose that would mean your lungs feel better then, yes?”

He laughed, settling himself somehow even closer to me. I swallowed nervously, glancing at him out the corner of my eye. “I’m tired.” He admitted, sluggishly pulling a tray of sugar powdered pastries closer. “But it’s nice to get out of that bed.”

“Perhaps we should head back.” I fretted, moving as if to call my sister over.

The goblin shook his head, popping one of the pastries in his mouth and resting his head on my shoulder. “Not yet.” He breathed. “I’m enjoying myself.” 

I tried not to shift noticeably, but couldn’t help a tiny shuffle. I even cleared my throat, glancing back at my sister and the other goblins. But they were too far away to be properly bothersome to my discomfort.

“What about you?” I looked over at him at his voice, his scarlet eyes rolling up to meet mine. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m not the one who was…” I stopped, dropping off. Feeling my throat close up at the reminder.

I jumped as his hand slid over my thigh, and my heart somehow raced even faster. I wasn’t sure what to do with my eyes. I was pretty sure I had stolen too many peeks at him for me to reasonably be allowed another. So I stared at the ground a few feet away, angled slightly so I could still see him out the corner of one.

“Nikostratus, you need to take care of yourself too.” He told me softly, and his hand ran soothingly back and forth on my leg. “... You can’t just… throw yourself aside for the sake of everyone else…”

I slowly put my cup down in its saucer, and dropping my gaze to stare at my palms. “... I’m fine.”

He gave a soft ‘hmmm’ at that, but didn’t push it further as Morgana darted back over and plopped back into my lap. I stiffened slightly, feeling my face burn hot realizing that Grier was still leaning heavily against my shoulder. But if she noticed, she didn’t seem to mind.

“Niko! Can you do my hair?” She asked. “I want to show Safa what it looks like when you braid it. I brought the oils and comb!”

I hesitated, glancing over at the young noble lady as she sheepishly shifted closer. She stood at the edge of the blanket, her head politely bowed. A few beads of nervous sweat burst out at the collar of my shirt. But… no one seemed to bat an eye at the King currently lazing on my arm. I supposed we were technically married now, after all. That must be why...

I tried to calm my nerves, nodding briskly. “A-alright… but why don’t you read to us while I do?”

Safa brought over a small basket and a book, offering both to me with a shy smile. I considered her for a moment before taking it with a polite thanks. Morgana snatched the book from my hands and flipped to what she described as her ‘favorite goblin story yet’. Seoc and Safa began cleaning up our meal as Morgana started, and I carefully kneaded the oils through her hair. Grier adjusted himself to free my arms, slowly laying down beside me with his head on my bent legs. I looked around nervously… but again, no one seemed to even notice his switch except for me. And I had to admit, having him so close let me relax a little. I didn’t have to check on him as much when I could feel his chest expand with each breath against the crook of my knees.

I forced myself to focus on my sister’s hair, and carefully outlined the tracks with the tip of the comb before I began to form the tight braids along her scalp. I had always loved how fluffy and soft my sister’s hair was; it reminded me of my mother’s. Though hers had been a deep raven black while Morgana’s was more like a dark auburn. It was just as thick, however, and I worked gently to loosen the individual curly strands from each other properly before I smoothed them into shape with the oil. The oil would also help to keep the moisture in the wiry strands, and would help protect her scalp as I tugged the braids firmly into place. I started from the center, working my way to nearly the back of her skull before smoothing out the natural poof at the end of the strands and moving back to her hairline to start again.

I was distinctly aware of Grier’s eyes watching my fingers nimbly braid her hair. Then Safa’s once she had finished clearing the picnic. She kneeled down a few feet away and watched with unconcealed curiosity. I felt a little stiff with the audience. But the King’s eyes drooped lazily as Morgana read on, and Safa proffered a tentative question here and there as I worked, spoken with such reverence I found myself slowly relaxing. I answered her as best I could, my voice low so as to not interrupt my sister’s avid reading. She still scolded us for interrupting, and I hid a smirk in the corners of my mouth. Seoc stood a few feet away, also listening quietly with his head cocked to the side but politely turned.

As the sunlight slowly drifted further away from our cozy little spot, I saw Morgana stifle her third yawn. A glance at Grier told me he was also drifting in and out of the waking world. I finished the last plait along the top of Morgana’s head and brushed the back out into a gentle cloud of natural curls. I worked some of the extra oil in with my palms and watched the curls tighten slightly with the added moisture.

“I believe the end times might be coming,” I mused, as she yawned again, and she and Grier both spun to look up at me, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you so tired. Especially both at once.”

“The Princess was up early with me this morning, My Prince,” Safa offered politely, her voice soft, “She was very eager to help prepare this meal for you and the King.”

“Perhaps then it’s an early night for us all.” I suggested, smoothing back her hair one last time. Grier stretched lightly and yawned, starting to ease himself up.

Morgana ran her own hands over the top of her head, feeling the braids and giving me a sleepy smile. “Thank you, Niko.”

I pinched her cheek. “Thank you, chickadee… And Lady Safa. For setting this up for us.”

“It was my pleasure, My Prince,” Safa bowed her head, then glanced at Morgana, “... Should I bring you back to your rooms Princess? Perhaps we can work on your goblinese for a while before bed.”

“Yeah, I like that idea.” Morgana nodded, turning and wrapping her arms around me. “Goodnight, Niko.” She peeked shyly at Grier from my neck as I returned her hug. “Goodnight, Grier.”

“Goodnight, little bird.” He replied with a smile. “And thank you, again. I look forward to returning the favor someday soon.”

We saw them off as I helped Grier to his feet. Seoc bowed deeply, offering his aid as well, but the King waved him away. Dismissing him for the rest of the evening for a deserved break. We walked with him to the entrance of the castle, then bid him a farewell as he scurried off with the blanket and baskets tucked under his arms.

We walked quietly down the hall, back towards Grier’s rooms. He managed on his own for a while, but by the time we had reached the bottom of the stairs, he started to lean against me heavily again.

“We shouldn’t have stayed out for so long.” I fussed as we rounded the final corner before his hallway. “You can barely stand.”

Grier scoffed away my concern. “It’s good for me. Besides, I enjoyed spending time with you and your sister.” His head cocked sluggishly to the side. “I think she’s a little jealous of me now.” A grin split his thin lips. “I seem to be hogging all your attention.”

I sputtered lightly, a flush coming to my cheeks as I tried unsuccessfully to provide a better conclusion for him. The goblin merely laughed at that, looping his arms around mine and resting his cheek against it. My heart skipped again, and I blinked a few times to try and clear the swirl in my head. I checked about, but we seemed to be alone in the last stretch to his rooms.

His chambers were blessedly dark and still, and I felt heavier as soon as the second door clunked closed behind us. Grier heaved a sigh, plopping down on the bed and kicking off his boots. I moved from where I had removed my vest as he pulled off his top too, going to pick his shoes to place with the rest. His hand caught the edge of my collar as I bent down, giving me a gentle yank.

“Leave them,” He silenced me as I began to protest, hooking his arm about my waist and persuading me over to him, “Your sister isn’t the only one who was working so selflessly all day.” A hot blush rushed my face as he tugged my tunic loose from my trousers and started undoing the ties. “You need to get some rest.”

“That’s my line.” I mumbled dryly, and he chuckled.

“I can’t even fathom the last time you got a good night’s sleep, Nikostratus,” He told me, slowly coming up to his knees, then his feet, standing on the mattress so he could roll my tunic up, “The day outside was a good start, but now we need to get you to bed.”

I nervously finished what he had started, pulling my shirt off. I started to fold it, but the King snatched it from my hands and tossed it to the side. I opened my mouth to stammer a protest again, and found his mouth there to silence it. He wrapped his arms slowly around my shoulders, his bare torso draped against mine. The goblin was taller than me, standing on the mattress as he was, and I had to drop my head back to comfortably return the kiss. I fed him a huffy breath as he coaxed my mouth open with his tongue, slipping past my defenses. Heat was already beginning to build in me at his touch, and I dared snake my own hands over his thighs. Then I hooked them up, catching his weight in my palms to pull his legs around me. I could taste his grin, and slid an arm under him as I carefully climbed onto the bed. Carrying him along with me.

We dropped together to the mattress, and I crouched over him timidly as our kiss broke momentarily. Grier brought his hand around, tracing the back of his knuckles along my jaw. My eyes darted back down to his lips, and before I could meet his gaze again he gently stretched up to sink into my own lips. I kissed him again, pressing his head down into the pillows, slowly lowering my body to be tucked alongside his. Dangling my torso over him with my weight on my elbows. He freed his other hand from around my neck to skim his fingers lightly up my side. I shivered at his touch, and he nipped my bottom lip lightly in response.

I drew back obediently, meeting his eyes shyly. His hand at my jaw turned, bringing his thumb to trace along my lips.

“... Have I mentioned how happy you make me?” He purred softly, a warm smile filling his face.

I blushed again, my eyes darting away. But he held me still with his hand, coming up to kiss me lightly once more. Just a quick peck before he dropped back into the pillows.

“How about how handsome you are?” He continued. “Or how lucky I am that I get to have you as my husband?” A small scowl came to his lips. “Are you certain we cannot simply null the license and do it properly this time?”

I stifled a laugh, my face blazing hot as I shyly rolled away. Dropping to the bed beside him. He quickly shifted and scuttled back into my arms, tucking his body against mine once more and bringing his hands to my face. His scarlet eyes bounced back and forth between mine.

“... You never told me how you feel about everything…”

I swallowed nervously. “E-everything?” I questioned in a soft stutter, timidly running my hand over the edge of his waist and letting my gaze fall to the side.

He nodded. “You’re my husband now…. And I’m yours…” His thumb skimmed along my cheek bone. “... Is that ok?”

I shivered again, then smoothed my hand into the small of his back. Nodding shyly. “Y-yeah. I’m… adjusting. B-but…” My tongue was a little too large for my mouth, and I tried to shift it uncomfortably. “I-I… I’m… I’m happy…” I felt my cheeks burn, and blinked fervently as if to fan them. “... I think…” I finished lamely.

Grier chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead against mine. “You seem… better. About talking,” He rubbed his thumb against my cheek again, “And touching.”

“I’m… I’m trying…” I swallowed again. “B-because… I… I m-missed this… I missed… you… ” I closed my eyes to hide from his. “I was… I was afraid I wouldn’t…”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He assured me, leaning in until his breath splashed against my face. “Not without you.”

My lips twisted slightly at the corners. “So next time you’ll just be sure to take me with you when you visit death’s doorstep?” I asked dryly.

Another chuckle. “Mmm. No, not quite.” I felt him shift, then felt his lips against my cheek. “Not unless we are both very old and grey. And even then, I would rather not take you with me.”

“I would rather go first.” I mumbled, and felt his fingers tighten. I opened my eyes reflexively to see the worry in his. “... J-just one day… One hour maybe… So… So I don’t ever have to… t-to…” I blushed. “... to live without you.”

He brought our lips together for a feather light kiss, and I pressed my hand into the warm flesh of his lower back. Bringing my other hand up to bury in the wild hair at the base of his skull.

When he leaned back, we lay silently for a bit, staring at each other. Grier was the one to break the silence, a slight furrow forming between the ridges of his pronounced brow.

“Perhaps it was my imagination… But,” He tilted his head to the side, “I swear I… I was dreaming about you. But they felt real. Like memories?”

“I was… talking to you. While you slept…” I glanced away. “I thought maybe… maybe you would hear my voice and want to come back…”

“What did you tell me?” He asked curiously.

I blushed again. “A-ah… I… I told you about Morgana, when she was little…. A-and about Josep… and about my mother…” His hand gently guided me back to him, until I met his eyes once more.

“... Can you tell me again?” A small, sly smirk played across his lips. “I’ll be a better listener this time, I swear.”

I gave another timid nod. “O-ok…”

He smoothed his palm along my face. “But not tonight. You need to sleep.”

I frowned. “I’m fine-”

“You’re not fine.” He cut me off. “You spent the last two weeks watching me teeter on the edge of death. All the while ruling the Kingdom, and caring for Morgana, and anything else you could shoulder.” He ran his hand to the back of my head, gently squeezing my skull in his palm. “You married a dying man, your old guard tried to kill you, your father died... And those are just the things I know about...” I winced, and he brought his forehead back to mine. “Now it’s time to relax. Let someone else take the burden for a time while you rest.”

I started to shake my head. “Y-you’re still healing-”

“So are you.” He argued, squeezing me again as I winced once more. His fingers slowly loosened, then he traced them back and forth along the back of my head. “... Let me take care of you now, hm? I’m strong enough for that.”

I didn’t say anything, but met his eyes bashfully again. A sound warmth reached those dazzling scarlet reds of his. I sighed deeply, and he smirked with an almost irritating smugness in recognition of my defeat. Shifting to roll closer to me and wrap his arms about my shoulders. Tucking my head against his neck and resting his chin on the top of my head. One hand began to draw slow lines up and down between my shoulder blades, the other cupping the back of my head. I drew in a slow, deep breath, pulling the scent of him into my lungs. Feeling myself slowly relax as I lay there with him, my eyes getting heavier by the minute. I wove my own arms around him, encompassing him with my own body even as he buried my head in his. 

It didn’t take much longer for me to fall into a deep, deep sleep. Securely and safely wrapped up in Grier’s arms...

....

“What could possibly have been going through his mind?” I scowled slightly, resisting the urge to let my nose scrunch up as well. “What possible thought could he have had to think that was even remotely acceptable to say?”

Grier smirked. “Well, I’m certain he had his reasons dear.”

“Impossible! It’s absolutely illogical, and hare brained at best.” I argued, then glanced at him sidelong. “... Don’t call me ‘dear’.”

The goblin grinned up at me. “How about ‘sweetheart’?” My small scowl twitched at the corners and he laughed. The sound echoed around us, bouncing off the stone walls. “I am just attempting to find the perfect pet name for you, love.”

I shook my head. “You’re ‘just attempting’ to change the subject. Are you afraid I’ll have that nobleman hoisted by the ankles for his blasphemy?” I returned. “.... D-don’t call me ‘love’.”

He drew in an excited breath. “Ah, excellent. You’re starting to get flustered.” He bared his pointy teeth at me. “That’s a good sign.”

I scoffed at him, feeling a slight flush pinch at the balls of my cheeks. “I-I am not!”

The King sidled up to me, snaking his arms around mine to match my long stride with a skipping step. “Everything is going perfectly to plan then.”

I chanced a quick peek around to be sure that we were alone in the halls. It had been nearly a month since the goblin King had first woken from his fever induced slumber, and every day a little more of his strength found its way back to him. And every day, he grew a little more bold. A little more affectionate.

I still didn’t care for over the top displays around others, even the attendants and guards posted strategically through the castles. Most especially around my sister. But found I didn’t mind so much the little ones… a pinky finger hooked around mine. A gentle hand on my shoulder in passing. A thigh tucked against my own when we were sitting. Not that anyone else seemed to mind. I just couldn’t seem to completely shake the uneasiness I felt at the idea of other eyes seeing his affections for me.

But Grier was nothing if not adaptable. He relished tugging me into a dark corner to steal a kiss when no one was around. Or palming my ass when we left a room. Once or twice he had even gotten a few buttons on my shirt undone in a stairwell before my shyness and good sense had gotten the better of me. He seemed to enjoy my flushed face, and I couldn’t help the way my heart skipped at his little smug smiles of accomplishment after each daring theft. And when we were alone? … Suffice it to say I was pretty sure I had taken more cold baths in the last month than the rest of my life combined. I also was pretty well versed in the goblinese alphabet in any order I may wish to recite it. Grier relished hearing me attempt to distract myself from his attentions; I was pretty sure he considered it a personal challenge to get me hot and bothered when I was trying very hard not to. And as his strength returned, it was getting harder and harder to remind him he was still healing and to take it slow.

This evening though, as we walked arm in arm, I felt a frown settle on my lips as I checked to be certain we were alone. I glanced around, a furrow digging into my brow.

“... W-where are we going?” I checked over my shoulder, my frown deepening. “I-I don’t… I don’t think this is the way to your rooms…”

The goblin chuckled, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. “You’re really quite hopeless aren’t you, my young Prince?” He mused. “We haven’t even been in the right wing for some time now. Didn’t you notice we went up a flight of stairs??”

I glanced around again, but despite the slight air of unfamiliarity, the hallway looked just like any other. I swallowed a sigh. I had gotten lost a fair few times in the last month. It was an informal royal decree from both Morgana and Grier that I was not allowed to wander the halls unaccompanied anymore. It seemed I had a knack for ending up in quite the opposite place of my intended destination.

“I-it did seem… a little longer of a walk than normal.” I mumbled sheepishly. I was lying, of course, as it hadn’t really. Then shot him a sidelong look. “... Ah… where are we going then?”

Grier’s grin turned sly, and he glanced at me out the corner of his eye. “It’s a surprise.”

“But… but i-it’s late. Y-you shouldn’t be-”

The King scoffed, waving one hand errantly. “I have been given a clean bill of health now, pet. I am free to surprise my husband to my heart’s content.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to sort out what he meant by that. “... D-don’t call me ‘pet’.” I hesitated, looking around again. “So w-where-”

“Still a surprise.” He interrupted me, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. “But I promise we are almost there.”

I relented with a stifled huff, letting him lead me as he would. I couldn’t help looking around curiously, but simply had no head for the layout of the castle. It was far more complex than the one I had grown up in, and even there I had some trouble from time to time. It had taken me nearly my full 25 years to grow comfortable with it; I imagined it would take much longer than that for me to settle into familiar paths in this castle.

“Are you looking forward to your brother’s coronation?” Grier asked by way of distraction for my nerves.

I peeked at him, my frown returning slightly to the corners of my mouth. “... No.”

The goblin chuckled. “I would have thought you would be happy to have him on the throne. A much more level and reasonable head than your father, I am certain.”

I nodded my agreement, checking down one dark hallway we passed instinctively. “Of course. Crown Prince Valerianus will be an excellent ruler, a boon to his people.” My voice strayed into the old formal flatness from my youth. But then I stopped, staring down at our feet as we walked. “... I-I am not looking forward to the coronation itself.” I dropped off momentarily. “... Least of all because Morgana will be staying with m-my… my brother upon our return.” The word still tasted strange to me.

“Just for a few months.” He reminded me soothingly. “A season at each castle. I believe it is quite the fair arrangement.” He gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “It’ll go by faster than you think… What else worries you about the coronation?”

“... I don’t like parties.” I sighed. “I don’t like crowds of people… I-I prefer to be alone.”

“Except for me?” He offered.

I blushed, stammering for a moment. “Except f-for you...” I amended quietly.

His grin returned, and he tugged me to a halt. “Excellent. Because we are here.”

We stood beside a massive set of pine doors, inlaid with dark carved oak. A delicate but intricate pattern wove beautifully across each, and I considered that for a long moment. I looked around, then back at the doors, my head naturally tilting to the side as I tried to figure exactly where “here” was. Higher up, of course. Now that I was aware of it, we had climbed at least two sets of stairs to get here. But aside from the beautiful carved doors (which I was fairly certain I had never seen before) there was nothing overly distinct about our location, and nothing was familiar.

“Ah… sh-should I know where we are?” I asked timidly. Afraid he would be insulted that I did not, or disappointed his surprise was not completely evident to me.

The goblin was nearly dancing from foot to foot in his excitement. “Why don’t you open the doors and see?”

I hesitated, cocking one eyebrow at him. Then released his hand to push the left side door open. Grier pushed open the other, then stood with his hands behind his back while I assessed the room beyond.

It was a foyer. I knew that much. A grand fireplace to one side, a plush couch flanked by a pair of armchairs (matching, I was surprised to find) and a white marble table. To the other side, another pair of armchairs set on either side of a circular table set with a decadent chess set (those pieces didn’t quite seem to belong to each other though). I glanced over at Grier, and he nodded, encouraging me to go deeper with a large grin on his face. He jerked his head to the right, and I obediently went through the door there. A large reading room, with a tall window set into the length of one wall, a soft looking bench beside it. We were in the tower then, I surmised, craning my neck back to follow the floor to ceiling shelves with a thin ladder and narrow ledge at the middle to reach the second level of books. I could smell the old pages, and lingered for a moment. More plush furniture, cozy and soft looking. A few over the top decadent pillows, and a fair few knick-knacks, though they were neatly set about the room.

I turned back to Grier in the doorway, opening my mouth to speak. But he merely gestured for me to follow him back into the foyer, then across to the opposite door. This one was a closet, long and narrow, with a few cloth mannequins in between the shallow alcoves stuffed with vibrant colored clothes. At least on one side. On the other, my eyes widened slightly upon seeing dark, solid colors. Coats. Vests. White or cream shirts. Greys and blues mostly, with a few other colors smattered in between. Not stuffed, as the opposite side was, but neatly arranged and ordered by item types. Vests in one place. Coats in another. Tunics and shirts in the last. Boots and belts on hooks and shelves between. There were mirrors in the corner, each more decadent than the last and making the space seem even more full than it was.

Again I opened my mouth, the realization coming to me, but the goblin put his hands on my hips and started to push me towards the door in the back. I stammered a few useless sounds, but he persisted. Steering me through to the next room.

A bath. Large, with pearl and opal encrusted pools and delicate marble steps. I craned my neck back, finding a beautiful mosaic of colorful and sparkling tile in the ceiling. I marveled at it for a moment, breathing in the warm, steam filled air. Listening to the soothing sound of trickling water. A few raised basins lined the walls, with intricate stone carvings set into their backboards where water trickled into them before dripping off the sides and down to some unseen place in the ground beneath.

“There’s more.” He told me before I could speak. Catching my hand and tugging me through the door on the opposite side from where we had entered.

I followed behind, feeling in a daze. A bedroom this time, as evident by the bed large enough that I was certain a giant could comfortably lay sideways in it. It had tall, dark oak beams, and was filled with plush pillows along the headboard. Heavy curtains were neatly tied to the posters with golden rope, and there was another large fireplace off to one side. I recognized some of the bobbles and odds and ends from my time spent clearing his chambers. I dug my heels in, yanking Grier to a stop as I marveled at the room.

“A bed so big you could lose me in it.” He reminded me, his grin still ear to ear. “I hope this one with suffice. It was quite the commission.”

“... Th-this is… for us?” I mumbled timidly, and felt my face suddenly flush dark. 

He laughed. “Well, as long as it matches what you wanted.” He tugged my hand a final time. “But there’s one last surprise here for you.”

I obediently followed after him, letting him lead the way to the back corner. There was an archway, with a small little room to one side and a spiral stairwell to the other. The room was rounded on one side, with beautiful colored glass windows. The walls were a soft yellow, and the furniture was decidedly small. A small bed, a soft looking armchair with a sheepskin draped over it. And a cradle, alongside the window. My blush went even darker.

“Is it how you imagined?” He asked, stepping to the side to give me a better view. “I’m not sure what human nurseries look like, so I am afraid it might lean a little more to the goblin side of things.” His own scarlet eyes appraised the room. “We can of course change anything you’d like.”

“It… i-it looks…” I stepped shyly into the center, slowly pivoting on one foot. The setting sun broke through the glass, bathing the room into an almost magical glow. “... It looks… perfect…”

I jumped as his hands slowly came around my middle, and I felt him bury his face in the slope of my back. My breath fluttered from my chest, and I hesitantly rested my hands on his arms at my waist. A thousand thoughts rushed through my head at that moment, so quickly it was soon throbbing. Especially as his hands began to slowly rub against my abdomen.

I glanced at the doorway, then blinked a few times. “Wh-where do the stairs go?” I asked tentatively. Eager to distract myself from the heat of him at my back.

He gave me a gentle squeeze, then slid around to stand in front of me once more. “I thought you’d never ask.” The goblin took up my hands again. “Come.”

The spiral stairs were narrow, but not uncomfortably so, and I had no trouble following behind him. Our boots clicked on the stone, and I could barely keep up with his eager pace. The stairs let up to a large circular room at the top, devoid of furniture. The walls were mostly all glass, save for the stone archways supporting it, with thick curtains bunched along their length ready to be drawn. A door opened opposite us, leading to a balcony around the outside edge. But it was the center of the room that drew my attention.

It was filled with blankets, rugs, and large pillows of varying colors and patterns. Creating a soft nest of sorts, and encircled with white candles that were somehow already lit. Their flames flickered on the surface of the polished glass, making it look like we were surrounded by soft faerie fire. The ceiling was domed, and also completely glass, and as I stepped closer, I dropped my head back to look up at the swirl of pastels dancing across the sky as the sun began to set. The room was filled with the soft smell of flowers, and I saw them hanging from planters along the top edge of the stone pillars, draping down delicately. There was also a strategically placed set of stout, square glasses, and a tray of amber filled decanters. I could see the mountains for miles in almost every direction, and again slowly turned in place as I took it all in.

I felt eyes on me, and dropped my own from the heavens to find Grier’s waiting. He smiled at me, a little shyly. Obviously waiting for my final reaction. I looked around again, feeling as if my breath had been stolen from my lungs. I realized my mouth had dropped open a little, and quickly deigned to close it.

“Perhaps not what you had in mind when you said ‘a balcony’.” He mused. “But I thought it might still impress...” He gestured to the blankets and pillows at the center. “Fancy a drink to top off the evening? Perhaps to celebrate our new abode?”

“Th-that…” I fumbled for the right words, still a little dumbstruck. I swallowed hard. “That sounds… It would be.. a-ah... P-perfect.”

He motioned for me to sit, then walked around and carefully closed the curtains of the windows, leaving just the domed ceiling overhead. I stopped at the edge of the nest, hesitating for a moment before removing my boots. It didn’t seem appropriate to tread over the fabrics with them. I noticed a few petals flittered among the pillows, and pondered at exactly how they had managed to get so far from their source. The sun had all but completely sunk below the horizon now, and the inky night sky was beginning to seep into the pastels left in its wake. Slowly, I sat amid the pillows, craning my neck back to watch the darkness’ progression.

I heard him come up behind me, as well as the shuffle of him removing his own boots. The hairs on the base of my neck rose as he sank down to his knees at my back, then I felt the heat of his body once again as he slowly wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I shivered as his hot lips suddenly pressed to the side of my neck.

“What do you think?” He asked me softly. His breath warm against my skin.

I felt my face flush, and looked down at my hands in my lap. “O-of the rooms? Or… Or of all this?”

He gave a soft ‘hmm’ at that, then kissed my neck again. “Both.”

I peeked over at the stairs, trying to ignore the way he moved his hands back and forth over my shoulders. “... I-I like them… You ah… Y-you definitely were listening…”

He chuckled, and my eyes drooped as he pressed his lips against my skin once more. “My sweet Prince, I’m always listening to you.” One of his hands rolled to trace slowly down my front. “... And this?”

I swallowed nervously, then pretended to be too preoccupied with considering the room to notice his nimble fingers undoing the buttons on my vest. “I-it reminds me of… o-of that… umm…” I flushed a little darker, distracted. “... That first dinner…”

He nodded, slipping in a little closer. “Our first ‘date’, so to speak.” I could hear his smile in his next words. “You remember.”

I nodded. “O-of course I do… it was…i-it was...“ I dropped off, struggling to find the right word.

“Special?” He offered, and goosebumps shot across my skin at the word. I nodded again, resisting another shiver. He hummed his approval softly. “That was the intent… though I have an entirely different goal for how I’d like this night to end… But I want to ask you something first.”

My breath caught in my throat at that, and I turned slightly to look at him out the corner of my eye. His fingers had halted, and I found an unfamiliar seriousness waiting for me when I met his gaze. It made my mouth twitch down, and I turned to face him a little more. Curious what he could possibly want to ask that had him so uncharacteristically somber. The goblin took a steadying breath, easing his hands slowly back to cup on his lap.

“Nikostratus…” He paused, drawing in a breath, “... Will you marry me?”

I blinked at him. “... We’re already married.”

Grier scoffed angrily, brushing his hand through the air. “Yes yes, technicalities and legalities and all that. That’s not what I’m asking.”

“But that’s… that’s what you just asked-”

“No! I mean, yes, that is, but that’s not what I meant.” He gave an exasperated sigh. I felt my mouth twitch at the corners as his tentative expression turned to a scowl. The goblin shook his head, then took up both of my hands in his. “What I meant was… will you, Prince Nikostratus… will you be mine? And will you take me as yours?” I started to open my mouth, but he squeezed my hands. “Not because of a treaty, or in case I die without an heir. Not because I’m a King, and you’re a Prince. Or for our people, or even for the sake of peace. Not to make anyone else happy… but because I asked you… because I love you…” His scarlet eyes dropped down to our hands. “... And because you want to-”

“Yes.”

He jerked sharply. “... What?”

I nodded. “Yes. I will. Because you asked. Because I want to.”

“... Just like that?”

I smiled shyly at him, and I saw his eyes sparkle at the sight. “Just like that.”

He released one of my hands from his and brought it up, turning my face towards him properly. I met his eager lips with mine, shifting to twist at my waist. Bringing my own hand up to tentatively trace along the edge of his sharp jaw. We held that kiss for a long breath, relishing in it together. 

Then he moved, stretching and rolling himself around to come to my side. Easing my now unbuttoned vest off my shoulders and teasing his tongue between my lips. I shrugged the vest off, letting him toss it to the side without breaking our kiss. Feeling his hands return to begin untucking my tunic and undoing the strings to my trousers. My own hands reached for him, finding first his waist, then the hem of his pants. Gently tugging his own shirt loose, slipping my palms underneath to press against his warm, bare skin beneath. My heart leapt and thudded in my chest, and forgot how to breathe for a moment as he broke our kiss to roll my tunic up and over my head.

His hands came to my shoulders, pushing me firmly, until I fell onto my back amid the pillows. And he climbed on top, straddling me and planting his firm buttocks quite soundly on top of the swiftly growing bulge at my pelvis. I nearly groaned, and saw the same intense heat in his own eyes as I felt rippling through my body. I watched as he pulled off his own top, revealing his muscular torso and taut green skin to my hungry gaze. He tossed his shirt to the side as well and came back down, kissing first my mouth, then pushing my head to the side with his nose to begin slowly licking and sucking at the curve of my neck. My eyes rolled back and a shiver of delight rippled through me at the sensation.

“... A-are… Are you sure you’re… Y-you’re…” I stammered, unable to manage a complete sentence with his lips trailing across my skin.

I felt his hum against my throat, and gasped as he gently nipped at me. “Absolutely.”

Grier came back up to lean over me, his hair falling wildly about his shoulders as he bent down. Pressing our lips together again to reassure me of his words. His hands came to rest on either side of my head, and I let my own trace hesitantly up his bare arms. First to his shoulders, then slowly down his muscular back. I marveled again at the warmth and texture of his skin, and shivered as it seemed to remind me of my own exposed flesh. I heard his jaw click slightly as he opened it wide, sneaking his tongue back into my mouth. Winding it around mine. Another shiver passed through me, and I felt him shift. Rubbing against my cock through our pants and leaving my head spinning again. I fed him a shuddering breath as he ground his own member against me, sending a prickling heat racing through my body.

He unlocked our mouths, bringing one hand up to turn my face to the side before burying himself against the tender flesh beneath my ear. The sound of his tongue working against my skin coupled with his hot breath in my ear had my hands on his back looking for purchase to pull him closer. He trailed his sharp teeth across my skin, and I caught my hand in his hair as he worked his mouth slowly down my body. My fingers curled into those messy locks, and I started to prop myself up on one elbow as he moved lower and lower. Wondering where exactly he was going.

Scarlet eyes flicked up to me, and the heat there made my heart skip and sputter dangerously. “Lay back.” He breathed against my skin, his voice several octaves deeper with the husk of his arousal. 

I did as I was told, settling into the pillows once more with my heart in my throat. Trusting him as the more seasoned player for exploiting our arousals. He had certainly proved himself quite skilled in such carnal desires over the past month. I felt his mouth trail kisses down my abdomen, felt his hands massage at my sides. My own hand was still buried in his hair, and it twitched as his fingers curled around the hem of my pants. Pulling them down and freeing my cock from their quickly shrinking confines. I tried to not think too much about how I was now laid  bare before him, even as my heart thrummed. Luckily the blood was rushing through a fairly different head of mine at that moment, and my thoughts were congealed and fleeting at best. And as his hands slid up the back of my thighs to cup my buttocks, I lost even that.

I jerked as something firm and wet flicked at the head of my cock. Then gasped as the sensation returned. The pant of his hot breath against my pelvis brought the shocking clarity to my swirling brain that it was his tongue currently rolling over and licking at me with abandon. At first, I was so surprised my mouth dropped open. But as his long tongue wrapped and lapped at all my most sensitive parts, I decided I really didn’t care. More heat poured through my body, until I felt the tips of my fingers and toes go numb. I tightened my hand in his hair, and groaned loudly as his lips suddenly closed around my erection. Enveloping it in that hot, wet mouth of his. I thought I could feel the tantalizing brush of his sharp teeth along its length, and he began to rhythmically work his way up and down my shaft. I groaned again, trying not to writhe too much beneath his hot breath and lapping tongue. His hands massaged at my cheeks, slowly pushing them tightly together then spreading them apart.

I was glad for the soft pillows beneath me as I smashed my head back recklessly at the wave of pleasure that washed through me. My hand bobbed with his head, riding up and down the full length of me. I could feel his lips scrape the hair at my pelvis, and each deep thrust left me twitching more than the last. I curled one of my legs half around him, needing to touch him. To feel the heat of the rest of his body. His hands worked between my butt cheeks, and I felt the tip of one beginning to massage my hole.

Damnit. I thought to myself as a pulsing flash of light filled my vision. I started to try to pull away from him, feeling myself cresting on the edge of pleasure. But he stubbornly latched on, somehow managing to bury my cock deeper into his throat. I gasped, then moaned, my fingers in his hair spasming. I would have felt embarrassed by my sounds, had I the capacity for any thought other than that of the sensations of his mouth wrapped around me. His finger flicked inside me, and I smashed my head back again with that final straw.

I shuddered, crescendoing over the top and crashing back down on the other side in a hot, rippling mess. I felt my cock throb, pulsing my cum straight into Grier’s waiting mouth. I would have flushed in embarrassment, had my entire blood supply not been otherwise preoccupied at the moment. My body became in as much mush, my bones forgetting their solidity, my legs feeling numb. I blinked rapidly, trying to sort out exactly what had just happened, but my thoughts remained a hopeless swirling mess.

Before I could fully return to myself, Grier’s mouth found mine. My hand at the back of his head slipped to cup his neck, and with a weak grip I pulled him closer instinctively. He tasted salty, but not at all bad, and I welcomed his long tongue back into my mouth. Breathy with the lingering memory of its previous exploits. I felt myself slowly returning, and found his hands still massaging and playing with my ass. And was quite aware of his own cock rubbing against my pelvis eagerly.

I didn’t let myself pause to think, reaching down. Wrapping my hand around him. He fed me an equally breathy pant as I firmly gripped his manhood. I started to sit up, half on my side, adjusting to allow myself better purchase while his hands still worked at my backside. I used the moment to explore his cock in my palm, sliding up and down its length, with the pale tuft of wiry hair at its base and running partially up his abdomen. He hardened more at my touch, and I couldn’t help the little giddy glee in my stomach at the feeling.

I wasn’t sure if I was expecting it to be different from a human cock. A quick glance confirmed it was as green as the rest of him, though the head was darker. I thumbed the veins and ridges, running my palm appraisingly over it. Grier seemed eager to indulge my whims, and his pelvis jerked at my movement. I was surprised to find it was not smaller, as I would have expected it to be considering his proportions. Despite the goblin’s stature, I was pretty certain his appendage was very nearly the same size as mine. It certainly fit my palm similarly, and I enjoyed the familiarity of its shape. Feeling more and more confident as I rubbed at it firmly, confirming to myself this fact. Grier broke back from my mouth to lightly nip at my lip with his sharp teeth, seeming unable to fully handle the pleasure and desperate for an outlet.

He quivered as I continued to pump my palm up and down his shaft. I moved my other hand from the base of his skull to massage at his shoulders. He tucked his face against my neck, panting against me. Palming my ass and drifting his fingers ever closer to my anus. I encouraged him by picking up my pace, and felt him bite at my throat with a soft groan. He murmured something I didn’t understand, and suddenly his fingertips felt moist and tingly as he slid them in and around my hole.

“I want to know what it feels like to be inside you, Nikostratus.” He purred against my skin, and I quivered with anticipation. Gasping softly as he worked his fingers deeper. Carefully massaging and stretching me out.

I gripped him even more firmly now, rolling my hand down the length of his shaft, slowly pushing back his skin to fully expose his sensitive head to the night air. He groaned again, and I delighted in the feeling of the vibration of it at my throat. Whatever magic he had placed on his fingers was soothing and cool, and I felt myself relax at his touch.

His hands came around, pushing me down with his palms at my shoulders. I didn’t object, falling back willingly. Feeling my legs shaking with my growing anticipation. He coaxed me onto my stomach, and rolled his hands back and forth over my cheeks a few times. I felt his cock slide between them, and heard his breath hitch as he rubbed it there for a moment. Then aligned himself properly. I didn’t dare try to look over my shoulder at him, my face hot, my breath catching. I tried not to flinch as I felt his head graze the ring between my cheeks, but couldn’t help the shiver of excitement. His preparations allowed him to push easily inside me, though he did so slowly. Relishing each tantalizing inch. I curled my fingers into the blankets, my mouth dropping open as his head ground slowly against a particularly sensitive spot. He moved until he had buried himself to his pelvis, and bent slowly over me. His breath splashed against my spine, and I felt him carefully roll his hips.

I closed my eyes, letting loose something halfway between a moan and a gasp. It felt strange, but not unpleasant. He rolled again experimentally, then I felt him shudder against me. He bent further, curling over my ass and resting himself on his elbows. Until he could lap at the sweat now slowly dripping down my spine. I quivered at that, lost in a fresh wave of pleasure as he ground and rocked into me again. And again. His mouth came to my skin as he moved, and I could feel his breath panting against my sweat slicked shoulders. He alternated between kissing and licking, but as his pace picked up, I felt his teeth prick my skin in between groans pressed into my flesh.

I relished the sound of his hips smacking against my fleshy bottom. I enjoyed the feeling of his cock thrusting deep inside me. He moved gently at first, but gradually picked up speed and force as his excitement grew and my sounds spurred him on. Before long, he released a string of goblinese. I didn’t have to understand it at all to know it was probably not in any way ‘proper’ or ‘polished’ speech. It made my heartbeat even more erratic, and his thrusts seemed to match it. I felt him shudder again, and stifled a moan with my face buried in the blankets.

Suddenly, he jerked and spasmed, and a small part of me imagined I could feel him pulsing inside me as he reached his own climax. Logically I knew whatever magic he had used to relax my ring would likely prevent that, but I preferred to still imagine I could.

The goblin dropped onto my back with a hefty gasp, his smaller body quivering. My own body alternated between melting into a semi-solid state and tensing into a shiver. Each panting breath I drew, I could feel his weight rise and fall along with it. Our heat melded together, until I wasn’t entirely sure where his body ended and mine began... Eventually, he planted a final kiss between my shoulder blades, and slid off my back with a soft thump.

I found a bit of solidity to roll onto my side a few breaths later, and jumped slightly as Grier practically launched himself into my chest. I would have laughed at that, had I any semblance of where my lungs were at that moment. Instead, I sluggishly draped my arms around him, feeling his pleased sigh against my sternum as I did.

When several long minutes had passed without sound, I started to crane my neck down to check if the King was even still awake. I was certain he must be unconscious; he would never have been this quiet otherwise. Though over the last few weeks I had found there were nights when he talked even in his sleep! A pair of languid, hooded red eyes flicked up to meet mine, and I raised an eyebrow. I had fully expected when we got to this… ‘moment’, he would be full of teasing, boisterous words. Perhaps some musing on our varying physicality, or a comment on some quality of my body. Leaving me flustered, stammering, and proficiently bothered. His mouth twitched at the corners, but I was surprised to find him continuing his uncharacteristic silent streak.

As the heat and rush of excitement started to fade from my body, I found my anxiety waiting. Perhaps he had been disappointed? Or found my performance lacking in comparison to his other partners? Had he overexerted himself? A pang of guilt hit me hard in the chest. I shouldn’t have let it go so far. I had been too caught up in the desire, and turned selfish. He was still recovering; it had only been a month after all. I fretted over this, feeling my body stiffen around him.

Suddenly, Grier chuckled, and his lips pressed lightly to the hollow of my neck. “Over thinking things, are you?” He mumbled, as if his lips weren’t able to move properly to form the words.

I shifted nervously. “I-is it that obvious?”

Another soft laugh, and he snuggled deeper into me. But he didn’t answer right away, breathing another sigh into me. My heart skipped about in my chest, bouncing around the walls of my ribcage. His hand came up, sluggishly smoothing against my skin, rubbing the side of my neck and down my shoulder. I tried to take comfort in that, adjusting my suddenly oversized tongue in my mouth. Still, I lay stiff as a board beside him, and after a little while he brought his lips back to the same spot at the base of my neck.

“I’m not much of a talker.” He fumbled by way of explanation, his words slurred and slow.

That did make me laugh out loud. “Since when??”

He hummed a soft, amused note, and I felt his eyelashes brush against my skin as they fluttered. “After sex, I mean.”

Instantly my face flushed at the word. “A-ah,” I stammered, then shifted a little. “I-I… I didn’t know th-that.”

I could almost sense his languid grin, and he pressed his lips to my hot skin again. Then once more, though softer. His body relaxed, and he buried his face against me. His warm breath spinning down my sternum to be trapped between our entwined bodies. I swallowed once more, but adjusted, curling more completely around him. Cocooning him.

I rested my chin on the top of his head, and let a soft sigh escape as I forced my own body to relax. We lay quietly for a while. I knew he wasn’t asleep, as I felt his lashes run along my skin each time he blinked. I borrowed reassurance from the sensation, and my muscles loosened more. My eyes found the stars over our heads, and I watched them amid the reflection of the candlelight.

“I used to spend a lot of time staring up at the sky,” I breathed, “Wh-when I was younger… I found I could hide better in the dark, a-and no one ever thought to look for me outside for some reason…” I ran my hand along his spine, letting the words simply flow from me. Not really speaking to him, specifically. Just speaking... As I had when he was sick, and I had attempted to keep the habit up since. “I liked the night… Things were… quieter then… P-people didn’t bother me as much…” I considered the stars I could see from my position tucked against him. “We had a small collection of books on the constellations… I think I memorized most of them, I read them so much… I-I liked to… to read. Whenever I could manage to, I would go to the castle library…” My hand skimmed up to play with the long strands of his hair spilling over his back. “There was this… one spot… It was, ah… it was where the walkway of the second level stopped short… But there was just a little gap before the top of the next pillar and… a-and I found that I could s-step from the walkway to the pillar, then around to the next… then in the corner, one of the bookshelves was shorter to let in the light from the window…” I turned my head, burying my nose in his silky soft hair. Breathing in his spicy sweet scent. I knew now he liked to burn sage and myrrh in his rooms. He found the scents calming... “I would sit on top of that shelf for hours… No one could ever find me… I had a pillow set up there, and I would leave my favorite books…”

His soft chuckle vibrated against my chest. “I see Morgana wasn’t the only adventurous royal.” He murmured into my skin.

My lips twitched at the corners. “... I-I’m mostly of the literary sort… I would go there when I’d had enough of socializing and crowds. After all the galas, and balls and… ” I hesitated, my hand pausing with the long strands of his hair twirled around my fingers. Suddenly reminded of another such impending event. “I-I… I don’t want a big wedding…” I confessed suddenly, wincing.

Grier shifted, seeming to come to life at my words. I stiffened, worrying he would deign to leave my side if he was upset enough. I wasn’t sure what I would do if he did, and felt my heart ache with the fear. I felt his hand, previously forgotten in the knoll of my neck, slide over my muscles. Down my pectorals, then back up. His kiss was soft against me, and I shivered at it.

“Alright.” He agreed readily.

I blinked in surprise. “... Y-you… you don’t mind?” I felt him shake his head against me, and my fingers in his hair tightened. “I-I thought you wanted… I thought you would want a big… a-a very big ceremony, especially now that-”

“I’ve told you this before.” He interrupted me. His hand lingered at my throat, his thumb following the lump as I swallowed. “I don’t know why you never seem to believe me. I want you to be happy. That’s all I want.”

“... Even if it wasn’t with you?”

The goblin leaned in to nip at my soft flesh with his teeth at my tempered teasing. “Alright.” He amended. “I want you to be happy with me. But... if you couldn’t be-”

I shook my head, wrapping him up in my arms and pulling him close. “I-it doesn’t matter.” I told him in denial of that possibility as he slowly wound his hand to my back. Entangling himself around me. “I don’t… I-I don’t think I could… I don’t think I could be...h-happy… without you.” He nuzzled into the side of my neck, until I could feel his breath in my ear, and I took courage from that. “I-I don’t think I’ve… I’ve ever been…” I dropped off, then shook my head again. “N-not like this…”

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that…” He breathed, a happy relief in his voice. Then he paused, drawing small circles with his fingertips on my back. “I’ve been... obsessed with you… Ever since I first learned of you three years ago.” He confessed quietly, and I tried not to stiffen with his words. “I thought it was just some… strange fancy. One that would go away with time.” He smoothed his palm over my shoulders. “After I saw you… I just… always felt like something was missing. Though I couldn’t tell what it was… I certainly never put it together with you specifically.” He sighed. “Yet it was constantly driving me. Though I didn’t know it. It drove me to halt hostilities. Then to seek out the peace… and then… that drove you to me… and…”

He leaned back, pulling himself free from my embrace. I turned, looking down at him as his hands came about to cup my face. His long thumbs ran along my cheeks under my eyes, as his own seemed to study every pore. Our breath intermingled in what was left of the air between us, and electricity snapped in its wake. Slowly he stretched up, kissing me softly, gently. As if he were in a pleasant dream, and longed to do everything in his power to linger in it.

“And then I saw you again…” He murmured once he had finally leaned back. “I saw you in my castle, standing before me. Close enough to touch… and everything just… clicked. Everything became so obvious.”

“W-was it really so easy for you?”

“No.” He admitted. “I wasn’t lying back then, when I said you surprised me. I really never thought I would like you. I had never met a human before that I had found I could do much more than tolerate.” His head cocked to the side. “But I thought it would be... interesting, at least. And…” He grinned. “You are very handsome.”

My cheeks grew hot and I tried to flick my gaze to the side. He tightened his grip, tricking me into looking back at him in surprise. Just in time for him to kiss me again. I hummed a sigh against his mouth, my eyes fluttering.

“You are very handsome,” He declared, his voice soft, “And charming, and selfless, and sweet.” He kissed me again. “And I will keep telling you this until you believe me.” A final kiss, soft and tender upon my lips. “Now… how about that drink, hmm?”

The corners of my mouth twitched again as he untucked himself from against me and sat up. The goblin reached over, pulling the tray closer. There was a covered plate beside it I hadn’t noticed before, and felt a slight frown slip across my features as I considered it. Grier poured out a small dollop of brandy into each glass as I slowly sat up too. Pulling the loose end of a blanket modestly across my lap.

“What’s under there?” I asked, curious despite myself.

His grin grew, and he passed me a glass before using his now free hand to toss the silver cover off to the side with an unceremonious clatter. I jumped slightly at the sound, but didn’t have time to linger on it as the King proffered the now revealed plate of small misshapen yellow squares practically right under my nose. I raised an eyebrow at him, but carefully plucked one, hesitantly bringing it up for a precursory sniff. My eyes widened with delight as I recognized it, and I snapped up the entire treat in one quick bite. Letting the sweet but tart flavor roll over my tongue with a soft sigh.

Grier laughed, equally delighted, and picked up another after returning the plate to the tray. I met his eyes, suddenly a little embarrassed by my eagerness, my chewing slowing. But he held the fresh lemon cookie out to me, obviously pleased with the same behavior that embarrassed me. My lips twitched and I leaned in to take it directly from between his fingers with my mouth in a surprisingly bold whim. Which only made the delighted smile of his grow even more. Before I could pull completely away, he caught the back of my neck with one hand and stole a lemony kiss. I couldn’t help my own little chuckle deep in my throat and found myself a little surprised by it.

I washed the mouthful down with a sip of the brandy, watching him take one for himself and having an experimental nibble of it. “...You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

He gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, shooting me a coy look out the corner of his eye. “I do aim to please…. Is it everything you wanted for this night?” He scooched closer as I finished the last of the small serving of brandy in my glass. Climbing into my lap once I placed it to the side. “What else does your heart desire? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

I adjusted myself nervously, my heart skittering about in my chest as his warm skin brushed against mine. “I-I… What about you?” I mumbled shyly. “Surely you must-”

“I have everything I want,” He interrupted, reaching up and catching my face between his palms, “I have the man I love. My whole world. Right here.” He pulled me down gently to kiss me for several breaths. “So tell me, my sweet Prince, what do you want?”

I hesitated, my blush rising to my cheeks. He brushed it aside with his palms, and I peeked at him through my dark lashes. “I-I… I want… I just... want you…” I told him softly. “Just you…” I glanced to the side, taking a small breath, trying to let the words trapped in my chest flow out unchecked. “I-I want… I want to… to wake up next to you every morning, and I want to fall asleep with you every night...” I paused, peeking at him again, but when he didn’t interrupt, I added “...And I am fully aware that we will never wake up at the same time…” He laughed softly at that. Encouraged, I continued on, letting everything pour out in a rush. “I-I want… I want to see what ridiculous outfit you wear everyday, and I want to see you panic when your hair starts to turn white.” I reached up, thumbing his cheek. “I want to see what happens to green skin if you stay out in the sun too long, and I want to rule alongside you a-and leave this Kingdom to our children... I want kids with you… I want lots of kids with you... and I want to see you playing with all of them in the gardens. I want… I-I want to…” I swallowed hard, stammering and fumbling for the words momentarily. “I… I want to love you for the rest of our lives, Grier... and I want those lives to be very, very long…”

His hands slowly slid until he had fully wrapped his arms around me, surrounding me with his spicy sweet scent. Then he kissed me so deeply I thought perhaps the stars in the heavens had always been just a faded copy of the universe that flashed behind my eyes at that moment. The warmth, that lovely, wonderful warmth, started in my chest, and pulsed through me with each beat of my heart. Reaching out to every inch and molecule of my being. Until I couldn’t even remember what it was like to live and breathe without it. I didn’t even feel him lean back, but then suddenly his voice, bathed in tenderness, filled my ears. Blowing air across the smoldering coals burning hot in my chest until my whole body tingled with emotion.

“I see we are a perfect match then, my young Prince.”

...

The End...

[mydrug-is-dragonage]

Veda Adaar, A Letter from Home

The balcony off my room had great light in the morning. The sun shining through the clouds, the crisp mountain air, spring properly arrived and ready to melt into summer. My belly swelled, slowly but surely. No kicks or stirring, a growing bump where they said a child would be. I hid myself in long, flowing robes and oversized tunics. I spent most my days here, staring out the window, feeling the sun on my skin. I wondered if this was the feeling my parents missed, living in this cold land so far from their home. I sighed and looked out at the mountains, so calm with the wars ceased. The sky still bore the thin green scar.

The week after the healer confirmed the child, Lace came into my room with tea. “Hey, V.” I nodded and waved her in. She handed me the cup and we settled onto the sofa. The fire crackled, I pulled my robe closer around me and placed both hands on the warm cup. “I haven’t written the Divine yet,” she said.

“You haven’t written or you haven’t sent it?” I asked.

“Sent. I’ve written a draft,” she said.

“Do we have to send it now?”

“No,” she paused. Her eyes stared at the burning logs. “We will have to tell her soon, though.”

“I suppose we can get it over with. Not like it’ll get any easier,” I sighed. I took a sip of my tea. My hands stayed on the cup, the warmth passing through my palms.

“She’ll make it easier to keep this quiet, if that’s still what you want to do,” she said.

I swallowed and stared out, the sun setting, the chill of the mountains taking over. “I want to keep it quiet. I’ll tell a few friends, in time, but for now it needs to stay with only those we trust the most.”

She nodded. “Have you written your mother yet? We got another two letters from her this week.” I shook my head. “The Divine considers her trustworthy. She hasn’t betrayed any Inquisition secrets thus far.”

“I know,” I said, “I just don’t know how to tell her.” Lace tapped her feet. “Go on, you’ve got a mind full of something.”

“Veda, she loves you. She loved Bull. She’ll be thrilled.” I took another sip of my tea.

“She does love me. She did love Bull. She also loves my father and will certainly tell him,” I said. Lace started to speak, but I interrupted. “Pa never trusted him. He had his reasons, of course.”

“I think he’ll support you more than he hates Bull,” she said.

“You’ve met my father. Do you really believe that?”

“He’s a hardass, but he’s always been bolder in affection than hatred.” I nodded, took another sip of my tea.

“Lace, can you bring me a fresh candle and ink?” She nodded and went to fetch them. I settled into my desk.

Tama,

I’m sorry I haven’t written. Lace tells me she’d get you informed about the immediate developments. I’ll also admit I haven’t read your letters. I’m going to, I keep them in a safe place. I simply haven’t found the time or the gumption. For being so brave, I’m so afraid. I don’t know why. I’ve face dragons and magisters and time travel. I suppose the risk there is death. Dying never seemed as scary.

I remember the stories you told me of when you were a girl. A young apprentice baker, elbows deep in flour. You wanted to be a Tamassaran, raising the children, guiding their growth, comforting their hurts. I suppose it’s the closest thing to motherhood in Par Vollen. They didn’t let you into the priesthood, though. They didn’t let you raise the babies and cuddle them, tend to their wounds. They sent you to a small bakery near the sea. I remember the gull songs you’d sing to me as we wandered along the coastline of the Waking Sea.

Pa never told me the same stories you did. I pieced them together from stories you’d told me. Pa, part of the antaam, stopping by your bakery for bread in the morning. Pa, the good soldier, making jokes as you packed his rations You, the naughty the baker, sneaking him sweetened bread, baked with too much sugar. His hands lingering on yours too long in front of the baker. You two sitting on beach, the sea lapping the shore, your hands finding their way to each other’s again. When I got older and understood the Qun, I always wondered how you weren’t quaking with fear. To love, while not forbidden, was certainly not allowed like this.

When you fled, were you afraid? Crossing through Seheron and Tevinter, Pa joining mercenary companies to gain passage, did you regret it? Did you miss the calm of the bakery, the friends you left behind? Was he worth it? Was I worth it? Were you afraid?

I remember when you sent me off with my first company, an apprentice myself, unsure of the power in my fingertips. I remember Pa standing, arm around you. You held back your tears, but I saw your eyes well up, so afraid for your only child, your only daughter. You wanted more for me than mercenary companies, killing for my dinner. You sang from the Chant of Light, you warned me of magic, yet it came to me anyway, taking me away from you. The first letter I got from you started and ended with, “May the Maker guide you.”

He guided me through mountains and valleys, along the seas. I’d seen the Free Marches, Nevarra, Orlais, the South Western corner of the Anderfels, all while learning to protect myself from demons, manipulate the fade to bend to my very will. The best, of course, was when I’d come home, a year older, a head taller, hardly the child you’d sent away, still so far from real womanhood. You fussed over me so, made goat pies, asked about the places I’d been and the joy I’d found. When you went to bed, Pa and I sat outside, looking towards the sky, the moon so full and hungry. He took a sip of the wine you’d opened, offered me my first glass. He put his arm around me and pointed out constellations. He said something softly, the sounds still ringing in my ears, “We wanted better for you. We wanted safer for you.”

The first time you visited Skyhold, we’d stopped the demon army, but we hadn’t yet gone to Halamshiral to save the empress. You wore a simple cotton dress, you hair braided down your back. Pa put on his nice shirt, his horn caps. You looked so nervous around the nobility. They didn’t know what to make of you. The deafening whispers, everyone so curious about the new Qunari amongst the Inquisition. I heard you sing from some Canticle as you walked towards the throne, up towards my room.

I was scared then, too, my mission unfinished, the Magister still on the loose. When we got to my room you gave me the biggest hug. “My little girl has gone on to be something so much bigger!” You beamed, your own daughter the Herald of Andraste. Pa hugged me too. While I was pressed against him he whispered, “I’m happy you’re safe, for now.” Pa pulled away and glanced at my neck.

The dragon’s tooth was heavy. It rested against my skin, cool and smooth. He didn’t say anything, eyes stuck on the tooth. Your eyes were stuck on me, until Pa’s hand reached your back. Your gaze went where his rested. I can hear your voice now, the surpise and curiosity, “Veda, is that….” your voice trailed off, so Pa, forever your rock, finished for you, “A necklace of the Kadan.” He didn’t share your curiosity.

I said yes. No use in lying to you. I felt my heartbeat in my ears. Your eyes widened when you asked me, “Do you have a Kadan?” I nodded, so unsure and afraid. Not of my love. I knew I loved Bull. I hoped he loved me, but the two of you, seeing me in love with a man closer to your age than mine, a Ben Hassrath agent no less. You two joined me in Herald’s Rest, we found a small table in the corner upstairs. Pa drank a full ale before Bull came to join us. It was awkward, so painfully awkward. When Pa excused himself, I wanted to be sick when Bull said he’d take a walk with him. The men gone, us alone at the table. “He’s,” you thought so carefully about your words, “a lot of man.” I laughed and agreed. You asked if he made me happy.

He did. He made me so happy. He made me happy for years. He made me happy dancing at Halamshiral, he made me happy fighting dragons, he made happy in taverns and campsites, in castles and caves. He held my hand in carriages, he held me in cold storms. He took blows meant for me, he killed foes sent to strike me down. I saw the whole future, I saw the danger you and Pa had lived through. I knew we’d have troubles. I knew he’d be called away from me, but he was mine and he made me so happy, Tama. I couldn’t have loved him more.

I assume you know now what he did. Pa was right. Pa, despite walking with Bull, pulled me into a great big hug before he left. Again, he whispered in my ear, “He’ll never love you more than the Qun.” I shrugged him off. What did Pa know? He didn’t know Bull. He didn’t know me or our circumstances. I thought myself so grown then, barely nineteen, but the most powerful woman in the world. I loved Bull. Bull loved me. I was so sure Bull loved me.

I don’t know if love persists once we return to the Maker’s side. I don’t know if he even gets to return to the Maker. I don’t know what the Qun says happens we die. He obeyed the Qun. He did what the Qun demanded. If there is satisfaction to be had there, he’s earned it. At the cost of himself, at the cost of our love, at the cost of my dignity.

It’s been scarcely two months, his body left to rot near that dragon’s prison. I saw my love struck down before me. Cassandra delivered the killing blow, saving me the anguish of having to kill him myself. He’s dead, Tama. He’s gone. He’s gone forever and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to accept that he loved me and still did this. I don’t know how to accept that he never loved me and felt no guilt. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.

It’s been two months, I’m in Skyhold with Lace and the few others who stayed behind to serve what was the Inquisition. I’m no longer the Inquisitor, I’m no longer a fearsome fighter. I’m no longer someone’s Kadan. I’m just Veda. I’m just Veda and that’s all I’ll ever be. I’ll try to help stop Solas, but I won’t lead the charge. I can’t, not anymore. I’m going to be a glorified advisor, one-armed and tired. All that is so hard to write. Forgive the smudges. I’ve finally cried without violence and I don’t know how to accept any of this, but I do have something I have to tell you.

I’m no longer the Inquisitor, a Valo-Kas mercenary, a Knight Enchanter. But I’m still your daughter, and I’m going to be a mother.

Love,

Veda

Lace sent the raven to my mother, I sat down and finally read her letters, her usual, motherly concern filling each page. Father was doing well, a goat had twin kids. When she’d found out about Bull, the letter was longer. Words about love and loss, the way pain settles in our chest, proving our love mattered at all. Beautiful words, frustrating as they were comforting. I heard her and Thom ringing in my ears. I lounged on the sofa, my hands resting at my side, sometimes settling on the top of it. My stomach was warm and tight. Sometimes my fingers would wander towards my stomach, but I’d pull them away. The child would have to be acknowledged eventually. I would have to care for the child, provide for its needs. But I didn’t have to love it, caress its home. Not yet, not now.

Two weeks passed, visitors came and went, spring got brighter, the documents and plans seemed more convoluted. A sunny afternoon, Lace came to my room with two letters. “I thought you’d want this as soon as possible,” she said. I opened the first, smelled the pages. The light scent of lavender and smoke, the oils mother loved and the constant cooking.

Sweetling,

Asit tal-eb. It is to be. Maraas Kata. Nothing is ended.

Love,

Tama

I held the letter to my chest, weeping. So few words, yet they struck right into my heart. Asit tal-eb, what mother would say whenever we suffered and lost. One summer, before I’d come into my magic, Pa came home furious. He cursed and threw down his sword. They spoke in quick Qunlat, too fast for me to understand. Pa sat down and put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hand. Tama put her arms around his head, rested her head on his. She whispered, “Asit tal-eb,” over and over, stroking his hair. I put my doll aside, walked up beside them. Pa took an arm off Tama’s waist and pulled me into their embrace. She leaned up, dried her eyes, and squatted down to my height. “We’ve got to go, sweetling,” she said. Her voice calm despite it all.

“But I like it here! They’re not even mean at the Chantry!” I said, full of childlike fury.

“They won’t sell us the land,” Pa said. “So we can’t grow food for ourselves. We can’t raise animals of our own.” He sniffed and stared at the wall. His gaze moved down to me, little girl with little horns still budding. “We will try again. Find a new place we can stay. Asit tal-eb.”

I caught my breath and opened the next letter. Instead of my mother’s gentle writing, a harsher, sturdier hand had written it.

Imekari,

Your mother says you are having a child. This means we will be grandparents. I have never known a grandparent. Like parenthood, it is a concept we’ve stolen from the Bas. Regardless, I will inquire with the man who sells wheat what this entails. I presume we will love this child, just as we love you. The stories I’ve heard, being a grandparent is easier. That brings some joy.

I read the letter you sent your mother. I read it a few times. I lost count after seven. You’re not so wrong with your telling of me. I was in the antaam. I tried to make your mother laugh often. We did hold hands when we shouldn’t have. Due to your existence, you know we fled together, children ourselves. We chose love over duty. We abandoned the Qun.

I never told you of the walk Hissrad and I took the day we met. You were right. It was awkward. I hoped for a moment to compose myself. Perhaps find a man to hit me with a stick. Of course, Hissrad chose to join me. We walked along the battlements for some time. He was quiet, as I was quiet. We reached a corner and overlooked the endless mountains. I asked him about the necklace. Your mother and I had never told you of this. Kadans and necklaces of Kadans were a memory we left behind. It had to be his idea. He kept a blank face. I presume he was a very good Hissrad. After some contemplation, he said (translated for your sake), “I mentioned it off hand. We killed a dragon less than a week later. I thought we were just having fun, but she surprised me. She constantly surprises me.” I asked if he loved you. He said yes. I asked if he loved you as the Qunari he was or the Tal-Vashoth he pretended to be. He said (again, translated for your sake. You need to learn more Qunlat. The child should know Qunlat), “Both. I love her as the friend and companion I’d get to have in Par Vollen. I love her as a Tal-Vashoth would love whomever they chose.” When I asked about the Qun and when he’d be pulled back to Par Vollen, he gave meaningless answers. He’d spent too much time around bas, he’d forgotten how to talk to men like men.

Imekari, I was wrong. He’s dead. He died obeying orders. But, presuming this new imekari—Imekari II? Small imekari? Ari-imekari? I’ll discuss with Tama—was not of your planning, he broke the Qun. He knew how to control his seed. We all grow up knowing, waiting to be called for breeding. He made a choice. He violated the Qun.

He died Tal-Vashoth. I wish he had lived to fulfill that betrayal of the Qun. The child will come. Tama and I will come too, to discuss and guide. For now, I’ve enclosed something that gave me great comfort during our great suffering.

You’re still a Kadan. You’ve always been our Kadan.

Your Father,

Beres

Behind his letter there was another piece of paper. I opened it slowly, the creases deep and discolored. Inside was a drawing, crude, of a little house. Two Qunari stood, both smiling. The drawing was labeled, “This will be our house. This is where the goats will sleep. This is where the goats will chase the chickens. This is where Veda will play. This is where Tama will sing to Veda. This is where Pa will squeeze Veda on days the Maker didn’t bring kindness to school.” A smaller Qunari reached both hands up, a parent grabbing each hand. At the bottom, it said, “Home.”

I read and re-read the letter. When my hand drifted to my belly, I let it rest.

[boy-banders-writings]

Clumsy

Group: A.C.E. Member: Seyoonie! also known as Wow (those thighs!!) Genre: Fluffy fluff. I watching Meteor Garden on Netflix so I’m thriving off all the cringy goodness!! Request: Nope, a little drabble Length: Short|medium|long|idk man

(This has been sitting in my drafts for almost a year. I’m on a break from work & really wanted to write some before the year ended. I’ve missed it so much but work had consumed my life this year & Covid has left me raggedy & exhausted! So enjoy this finished WIP!)

Because he takes up so much of your attention, you’ve become pretty clumsy.

Sitting on the side of the tub with Seyoon kneeling before you looking over your handful of scrapes with a thoughtful look on his face was sending you into an embarrassment spiral. 

“It’s a good thing you fell so close to my apartment.” He joked, gingerly poking the bruise forming beside the scrape on your knee.

“Ow!” You hissed, jerking away from him.

“I need to clean your cuts you klutz.” He tugged your leg back towards him.

“I’m not a klutz.” You griped, crossing your arms before the scrape on your elbow stung at the contact causing you to wince and freeze.

“You slipped going up a set of concrete steps, I thought you had broken a bone with how hard you hit the ground.”

“I was distracted.” You grumbled, watching Seyoon gentle dab some antiseptic to a cotton pad and dab at the visible abrasions on your knee, elbow, and hand.

“Oh?” Seyoon paused as he stole a glance at you. “By what?”

“Focus on this please.” You winced when he pressed too hard on your knee.

“Sorry.” He smiled, as he went back to work. “I’ll get to the cut on your cheek in a minute.”

You hadn’t even realized you’d hurt your cheek too, so when your free hand moved to touch your cheek you weren’t surprised when you winced from the sting.

The next few minutes you sat watching Seyoon disinfect, treat, and cover your little wounds. There was large bandage on your knee, which he finished applying with a little kiss over the bandage. It happened so quick you barely noticed and when it processed that he had kissed your knee your face heated up. Seyoon had placed a bandaid much like the one on your knee, with a minor alteration, to your elbow. Much to your surprise with another peck over the bandaid. The bandaids he used on your hand were much smaller and covered the two main scrapes. Instead of the bandaids, Seyoon kissed your palm.

The hummingbird in your chest was making it hard to breathe when you realized just how close Seyoon was. He gathered new supplies before he moved his body to be on he knees directly in front of you. In this position he was eye level with you, he was so close in the moment that you could count his lashes.

His focus was solely on the scratch on your cheek that you’re not really sure how you managed to get. It took him applying some ointment with his ring finger for you realize how gentle he was in that moment. The touches were feather-light. Seyoon seemed to realize just how close he was in that moment because his eyes flickered to you. His movements froze for a moment as he sucked in a quick breath before he finished with a bandaid on your cheek. 

Seyoon sat back and picked up his trash, going to clean up the little mess he had just created.

To say that you were completely and totally distraught when Seyoon didn’t also kiss at least your cheek after the build up would be a lie. You watched him quietly and unmoving from you spot on the side of the tub. Seyoon worked quietly like he always does. He threw away the used cotton pads and the bandaid wrappers. He put away the antiseptic and the antibiotic ointment and placed his first aid kit back into the top cabinet in his bathroom. He was washing his hands when he noticed you staring off into space at the spot where he just was.

Seyoon, who greatly enjoyed riling you up, didn’t dry his cold wet hands but pressed them on either side of your neck to bring you back to the present.

“Ah! Seyoon!” You whined as you pulled the bottom of your shirt up to dry your neck.

He crouched down in front of you with his hands resting on either side of your legs on the bathtub. 

“If you keep getting distracted you’re going to keep getting hurt.”

“So?” You pouted, looking at the obscure and probably abnormal to anyone else group picture of Seyoon and his best friends. “It’s your fault.”

“How is is my fault?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning a bit closer to invade your personal space.

--

“I’m telling you, if Donghun doesn’t quit his shit I’ll end up in jail for murder.” Seyoon rolled his eyes, his friend had been trying his patience all week and thankfully you offered to listen.

“Seyoon, you can’t just kill him. I can’t bail you out.” You laughed, looking up at him to see his eyes crinkled and the cutest grin.

“You’d bail me out?”

“I’d try.” You shrugged, focusing back on the sidewalk. “I can’t let you rot in jail.”

“I appreciate that.” Seyoon tugs you closer and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Mainly because I know the others wouldn’t even notice I was arrested.”

“I always notice when you’re not around.” You meant to sound nonchalant but it came out rushed.

“I know.” Seyoon continues to lead the way towards the noodle shop by his apartment.

Conversation had died down but the silence was comfortable and his arm around your shoulders counteracted the chill from the fall weather. You adored times like these, just being around Seyoon. The two of you were, the best way to explain it, were in a flirtationship. It was more than just friends but neither of you had made a move to be more no matter how much it killed you.

You found yourself looking at him rather than where you were going as he continued on. His attention completely on the sidewalk ahead of him as he recounted his day stuck with Donghun.

“I’m serious though. He is one of my best friends but today I wanted to leave him at the train station. He was being twice as clingy as Jun usually is.”

“Really? That’s pretty hard to do.” You laughed, “Jun is one of the clingiest person we know.” Seyoon grunted in agreement before he dug his head into your neck.

“It was driving me insane. I could not wait to drop him off back at the apartment he shares with Jun.” Seyoon’s breath was warm on your neck and the weight for his arm was heavy on your shoulders as the two of you paused at the stairs that lead up to the street level you Seyoon’s apartment was on.

The heat coming off of your body was enough to fight off the chill of the cool evening as Seyoon ended up wrapping his arms around you. Your mind was consumed with Seyoon’s cologne and the feeling of his hands resting on your lower back. He gave your body one final squeeze before letting go and starting up the stairs. His hand reached out to tug you behind him.

Your body was reeling with tingles from Seyoon’s hands on you when your body lurched forward. Your toes caught on the first step and down you went, Seyoon’s grip on your hand disappeared as you tried to catch yourself.

--

“Ahh,” Seyoon smirked up at you, “did I distract you?”

You just looked at him, your face and neck heating up. Seyoon’s smirk softened into a sweet smile as his hand moved to rest on your cheek. Your heart stopped as he leant forward enough to feel his breath on your lips.

“I’m sorry I distracted you, let me make it up to you.” Your grip on the edge of the tub tightened as Seyoon moved closer and bumped his nose again yours. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whispered as Seyoon closed the gap between the two of you.

It was sweet. And led to many little kisses, enough that you started to giggle from how happy you felt. Seyoon happily rested his other hand on your hip and laughed with you as he backed up just a bit.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

“Me too.” You confessed.

“If you keep getting distracted I’ll have to keep making it up to you.” Seyoon grinned when you blushed again.

“I look forward to it.” You giggled before kissing Seyoon again.

[popculturebuffet]

The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck: The Last of the Clan McDuck!  Review “It Was Worth THE Dime”

This is one of my faviorite comic book stories of all time. Given i’m a massive comics nerd, for both books and strips, that is the highest praise I can give this wonderful, epic, beautifully drawn and deeply emotoinal story. I first discovered it in the local library that had the second volume, and found the rest online at a now long dead fan site. And while it took me longer than I care to admit to really dig into Duck Comics, and even now i’ve only scratched the surface, I can say without a doubt this story is the reason I’m so deeply attached to Scrooge as a character, and that I was excited as  I was for Ducktales 2017. This comic showed me just what Scrooge McDuck should be at his core as a character, and showed me what a wonderful character that is. So with all that glowing praise as you can guess i’ve been wanting to cover this for years, and even considered though back when I was more primarily a comic book reviewer last year. Any time i’ve reviewed stuff before now, i’ve considered it, and with Scrooge’s Sisters Hortense and Matilda presumably and definitely debuting on Ducktales soon, and it’s about damn time, the timing could not be better or clearer to dig into this utter triumph.  But before we can take a look at the story itself we naturally have to take a look at the man behind it: Writer and Artist Don Rosa. Don Rosa is easily one of the best Duck Comics writer out there, seen by many as only second to his own faviorite duck comics writer and God of Ducks, Carl Barks. For those 1 of you who do not know, Barks was the man who created pretty much everything in the duck universe comics wise and a bit in animation too: He created Daisy, Scrooge, Gladstone, Magica, The Beagle Boys, The Junior Woodchucks, Gyro, Little Bulb, Glomgold, Rockerduck, and the list goes on. While he didn’t make EVERY duck, he made so many that it’d be impossible to imagine either version of Ducktales being possible without him.  So of course Rosa was a fan and while he took up the family buisness, he was also an artist and duck comics fanboy on the side. So when, even if it meant a paycut, the opportunity to actually write and draw them came up, he lept at it and thus became one of their publishers go to guys, even if said publisher published the stories overseas where the Duck Comics are far more popular and still going to this day, and ironically where most duck comics printed nowadays get their stories from. Rosa was known for his meticous historical research and gorgeous art that he took his time drawing to get just perfect and showed on the page. The man has easily some of hte best and most detailed duck art around and I still haven’t found a duck artist that can match him.. and if you have or found one close i’d genuinely love to see that. He is a genuinely talented, spirited guy who was sadly mistreated by disney and that, coupled with tragically failing eyesight, eventually ended his career. He’s still around and I genuinely hope to meet him some day as he still does conventions.  The man is not without fault: I don’t get his hatred of superhero comics, as while I get them overshadowing funnybooks and that around the time of his career they were in decline, but it’s just as unfair to write off Superhero comics as mindless.  garbage as it is for people to write off the Duck Comics as “only for kids” and I genuinely wish he’d see that and see how the medium has evolved so much since then. I also grumble a bit as his refusal to allow anything besides barks into his bubble, and having to be forced to include fethry on the family tree, but that’s more personal preference. I like using as much material as you got. IT’s why i’ve wanted to, and hopefully will eventually get around to, write a sonic fanfic using bits of all the various universes that for legal, ken penders being an absolute waste of a human being, and sega being stupid reasons can’t be used anymore. I like taking everything in a franchise and putting it in a blender and it’s why I love the reboot. But there’s nothing wrong with taking things as is, not stepping on toes canon wise, but still being awesome. We’re just diffrent people and that’s okay.  And a lot of his fanboy showing actually lead to REALLY good things: Goldie O’Gilt was a one off character, and while used ocasoinally overseas, didn’t really pick up as a character again until a combination of Ducktales 87 and Rosa’s work with her, as he always loved the character, and fleshing her out lead to her being used more, and gaining a sizeable fandom. He also gained the Cablleros an even bigger fandom by giving them two stories of their own, and fleshing them out a bit more.  And this very comic is the peak of that, taking EVERY mention of scrooge’s past from various backstories to set up adventures, every tiny scrap, and to his credit going to both Barks Himself and various other Barks Experts Rosa was friends with to check his work, especially difficult given he likey had to find these stories in issue or pullt hem from disney archives, and complied it into one long epic that not only uses all this info effortlessly, but spins a compelling story that gives us a clear vision of what Scrooge should be, how he became the man he is, and how he lost himself only to find himself again with the help of three precocious boys and a cynical 30 something duck. So taint all bad is what i’m saying.  As for how this got started, thankfully rosa himself provided the origin story for this project in the back of the volume of his works that contained the first 7 chapters of life and times, as well as detailed notes for every chapter. At the time Rosa was working for Egmont, the big european publisher who handles Disney’s much larger european comics market, hence why most of his stories appeared years earlier in Europe before debuting here. The american publisher at the time , and an old friend of his, called Rosa with an idea: A 12 issue Maxi-Series focusing on Scrooge’s history, since at the time they were all the rage.. and really even today mini series are still a viable market and many indie titles just have several minis instead of an ongoing. So it wasn’t a bad idea, Rosa just simply offered a tweak: He’d tell his publisher at Egmont about the idea, and let her get a crack team of writers and artists to do this proper, and thus Disney could publish it for free once it was done and for no extra cost. Rosa gave his publisher a fax detaling both the idea and the fact that it needed to be done right, given to the best person possible, and done with the greatest care. She agreed.. and naturally handed it to him, as he admits he hoped. She made the right call, a legend was born and here we are.  One last bit before the read more and before I get to the first story itself at last: Since barks wrote a lot of side stories that fit into the canon, I COULD slot them in between chapters, but have instead chosen to review the original 12 part story as was, and do the various side stories and two epilogues, the utterly fantastic “Dream of a Life Time”, easiliy one of my faviorite comics ever, and the also really great “Letter From Home”, which will likely on some level be the basis for the upcoming at the time of this review “Battle for Castle McDuck!”, after completing the story. In other words i’m probably going to be at this for years. so join me under the read more won’t you as I begin the journey of a thousand miles with a single step as we look at the humble start of a legend. 

We begin, after a fun short teaser with present Day scrooge saying his past is no one’s buisness only to get hit with an oh yeah?,  with a scrap book title for the issue, something I want to bring up since while I got that’s what it was what I never got, and  must’ve glanced over when I first read rosa’s notes when I got this copy, was that it isn’t SCROOGE’S scrap book, but his sister Matilda’s who dutifully and happily catologued her brother’s adventures. It’s a really sweet moment.. and something that will hit VERY hard when we reach Chapter 11. If you haven’t read this story or heard of it.. .that’s this story’s equilvent of “Last Crash of the Sunchaser” and clearly Frank and Matt drew from that story a bit for it, but we can get more into the parallels when we get there. A smaller but fun note is that Rosa had specific coin drawing templates, for different indentions and what not he used, and used them for the coins in these intro bits. Yes he admitted he has a problem and yes that’s damn impressive anyway. 

It’s Scrooge’s 10th birthday, and his father Fergus has taken him up to see the family land, Dismal Downs to tell him of the mighty Clan McDuck and show him the ancestral lands, graveyards and Castle. He admits to having taken this long because the Clan McDuck currently lives in Glasgow so it’s kind of a long trip just to show your son “Hey look at the decay and rot that’s our ancestral homeland”. The Clan is on hard times, as a bad shipping deal, the backbone of a rather good barks story and I wont’ be interjecting for every barks reference as it’d get rather tiring though for what it’s worth Rosa provided tons of detailed footnotes in the back of each Fantagraphics collection, so good on him. Speaking of which though they do include 10 pages of Mc Duck family history that was supposed to open this story.. until Rosa’s editor wisely pointed out the story isn’t about them but scrooge and having read his roug draft, yeah.. there’s a good gag here and there, as well as “Dirty” Dingus McDuck, scrooge’s Grandpa and the reason Dewey is cursed with that middle name. Why anyone thought Dingus was a good name is beyond me, nor why Donald thought that was a good middle name back in 2009 is again, beyond me. Good on Don though for getting that past the censors.  But yeah with no money they can’t buy the land back and they were scared off it years ago by a mystical ghost dog, the hound of the whiskervilles. There is treasure in the castle, Sir Quackly’s gold, but he accidently sealed himself into a wall while sealing his treasure in there. Their interrupted by the town assholes, the Whiskervilles who have been grazing sheep on the land and are naturally behind the hound, using the sound of it to scare off Fergus once they realize he’s a McDuck. Because apparently you can keep a Scooby Doo style hoax up for Centuries if you don’t have meddling kids around. Who knew.  Back in Glasgow, we meet the rest of Scrooge’s family: His Uncle Jake, his sisters Matilda and Hortense, and his mother Downy. Jake hasn’t really been mentioned at all in Ducktales and I know next to nothing about him, which given I share a name with the guy you’d THINK I would. I mean I know a decent amount about this Jake. 

But nothing about who the hell Jake McDuck is or why he lives with his brother and his family. Here, you guys watch the dancing Jake, i’m going to probably do that for hours after this review is done, i’m going to go sort this out.  Okay one google and finding the Scrooge Mcduck wiki page on him, Jake shows up here likely because he was referenced in the story “A Christmas For Shacktown” and apparently borrowed from Scrooge and never paid it back. Otherwise.. there’s not a lot about him and unlike the rest of Scrooge’s family he really dosen’t do much that I can remember. Except like 2017 Scrooge, he apparently has become extremely long lived, as Scrooge and Donald STILL think he’s alive in the 1950′s.. and likely is STILL alive in some form in the Don Rosa stories, given his take place after Barks and thus in the 40′s and 50′s where Barks stories were set. Hence why unlike the Reboot, Scrooge isn’t inexpecilbly over 210. But Jake McDuck sure as heck is. Maybe this highlander is a highlander.. you know the movie and tv show type. Maybe someone cut off his head. That’s what i’m going with.

This does bring me to another point about this story: While Barks gave all of scrooge’s family their names, it’s where Rosa got them after all, it’s Rosa who really made them into characters. Fergus as a loving father ashamed his family legacy has fallen and wanting his son to do better than him, Downy as an equally loving wife and mother, Matilda as his sweet and caring sister and later her brother’s moral center, and Hortense.. well here she’s just a babbling baby but her character will become clear and glorious as we go. She is adorable here though and we do get some great bits with her.  Getting back to the plot now i’ve made my points, Jake is riled up wanting to understandably kick the Whiskerville’s asses with Scrooge, who even as a sweet innocent ten year old still has the family temper already, agreeing.. but Downy gently shoots them out pointing that two middle aged-ish men and a 10-year old just aren’t enough to fight an army of them and while she doesn’t mention it the fight would just tire them out for work and accomplish nothing as while it is the McDuck’s land the combination of the hound and the lack of money to move back means it’s pointless. She also mentions their younger brother Pothole, who went to America. This will be important later. 

Scrooge storms off and Fergus laments, in a scene that’s more painful the more I think about it, how his clan has fallen, with he and his brother lamenting their chances at glory are long gone.. but Fergus has hope his son can do better, and for his son’s birthday makes him a shoeshine kit in the hopes of inspiring him to greatness. This scene still resonates since many of us are poor, struggling and not doing so good money wise. I’m sure many parents have doubts and regrets about not being able to do more for their kid.

 Not only that but the story carefully avoids the trap of Fergus accidently being abusive by you know, pinning his family’s future on one 10 year old. While yes he is asking a lot of Scrooge, to restore their family name.. it’s very clear he mostly just wants his son to do better than him. Even if Scrooge was just slightly more successful, Fergus would likely be happy with that. He’s not using the legacy as a “This what you must be” like say the Gems in steven universe did for Steven with Rose’s Legacy, the kind where it sort of suffocates you till youc an make it your own. He’s just saying “this is what you can be” He believes his child can be great and simply once him to reach his full potetial and is simply giving him a means to hopefully do so, a simple home made shoe shine kit. While Jake scoffs, the narration notes the idea isn’t worth a dime.. it’s worth THE dime. The dime that would set Scrooge’s destiny in motion. 

The next morning, Fergus goes to check up on his son and his new buisness but Scroogey’s having no luck and about ready to just quit, the poor child. Also Matilda is dragging her baby sister around like a doll and it’s entirely precious as it is funny. 

But as for those Dorty Boots, Matilda wonders why her dad dosen’t just tell Scrooge that Burt the Ditch Digger is coming. Fergus tells her to quite and then explains his plan: he’s sending Burt to scrooge, with an American dime Fergus and Matilda found, to teach his son a lesson: By giving him a hard days work, he’ll teach him what hard work truly means.. and by having Burt “cheat” him with the American dime, it’ll give him the motivation to keep going and to nto be as wide eyed and trusting. It’s a well meaning if harsh lesson, and the kind you’d expect from 1900′s parenting and fits the origin well: Scrooge still earned his first money square, as he still did work.. but his getting cheated being a lesson dosen’t diminish what it taught scrooge, and helps flesh out what I talked about above, Fergus knowing his son has great potential he just needs inspiration to reach it. And instead of just telling him that he does a con job but it’s the 1900′s. This orign, and Fergus’ part in it would be entirely untouched in Ducktales 2017, the first scrooge based adaptation since this comic came out, and I bless them for it. Frank even said this comic was used as a bible by the writers and while theirs clear deviations, and we’ll get to that, they were mainly done for good reason, and it’s very clear that while scrooge’s history is very VERY diffrent in the reboot, the core of his past is still there. 

So the plan is on and young scrooge spends half an hour killing himself to get Burt’s shoes clean before getting his dime.. and realizing he’s been had, makes this proud decleration that will be the bedrock of his entire life and character. 

Scrooge being naturally stubborn as you can see takes his cheats a leson: There will always be hard honest work, and he will be there to do it and he’ll be tougher and sharper than anyone trying to cheat him out of his pay. Fergus’ plan has the intended effect, and Scrooge having learned a hard lesson now has the drive and determination we know him for. As for why it gives it to him.. I had to think on it a bit but it makes sense: For some a setback like this would make them quit.. for Scrooge it’s just proof he CAN find customers, he CAN do this job, or any at his hardest and instead takes this as a lesson to be prepared ot out think and outfight anyone who dares cheat him again, and to not earn his money by being the kind of guy who cheats a kid out of an honest days pay, but as a good honest duck like his father and his father before him. =He will make his money square so he can be the kind of person this seeming stranger SHOULD have been. Granted we’ll see Scrooge doesn’t end up as the best person at times but .. we’ll get there.  So with the fire inside turned from a spark into the flame Scrooge soon got to work, and by the next panel we see he’s eventually worked his stand up from a small box given to him by his dad, to a three seater shoeshining bench, who he wipes all at once by stretching one of his mother’s girldes over a light pole, a detail I didn’t get the first time around but now love. Naturally being a good kind boy much like his Nephews, Scrooge always gave his proud father a portion of his earnings, if with a full receipt for tax purposes. Because he’s still scrooge after all. His dad wonders he did too good a job while Hortense glxbit’s in agreement. 

As the years go on, a now tween Scrooge is eventually able to save up for a horse cart, and starts selling Fire Wood up in the city. He eventually realizes Peat, an earthy subtance found in bogs I only know about because I had to look it up for this review, is more profitable and with some snappy marketing moves into selling Peat for the rich instead, also showing the young lad already has a grasp of how to sell to obnoxious rich people. 

But while his business is booming, our young hero can’t resist visiting his family’s ancestral home and longing for it, hoping one day to have it for himself and in a nice show of how despite his temper and tenacity forged over the last few years he’s still at hear the kind, sweet optimistic lad he was just a few pages ago, he decides to tidy up the Clan’s Cemetary while he’s here. 

Unfortunately as proof that Donald and Della’s terrible luck comes from both sides of the family the Whiskervilles are sub-glomgold levels of human beings.. or Dogfaces in this case, and are digging up the McDuck Clan’s graves to hunt for treasure. Scrooge tries to simply do the smart thing and flee, but the asshole brigade catch sight of him and mistkaing him for a peat burgalar chase after him.. and spend WAY too much time and energy chasing a teenage boy over some fucking bog grass you clearly aren’t selling yourselves. I mean spare a thought for how dumb this is: They could easily sell of of that peat to put up a fence or chop down some trees to get the material if their really that concerned about someone getting in the bog. Then again this isn the 1800 and 1900′s where the child death toll was simply “Yes”, so they likely thought whose gonna notice one more dead child on our property?

Scrooge heads toward the castle and is gestured in by a friendly mystery duck who gladly shows him around and can tell he’s a McDuck just by look, showing the castle is still in glorious condition as the whiskervilles are too spooked to go in, hence why they didn’t chase Scrooge inside. I’d say being afraid of ghosts but not murdering a child is weird but these are the same guys who thought murdering a child was plan A. We’re not dealing with a brain trust is what i’m saying.  So the mystery duck shows Scroogey around, showing off some colorful stories about his ancestors recycled from that scrapped prologue I mentioned. THe mystery man, who brushes off Scrooge thinking he’s a McDuck asks Scrooge what he’s doing to restore the family glory and while Scrooge points out he’s already working on it, Mystery Duck points out he’s still missing something: He has the drive and the dream, but peat and shoeshining, while getting him good money for his family, aren’t the thing you can build a fortune or a future off of. He then points out where Scrooge’s dime comes from: America.. and that gives the boy the idea to head to the states. As for what he could possibly DO there to start, the mystery guy mentions his uncle pothole. So Scrooge has the dream, the drive.. and now a plan: Go to america, work for his uncle on the riverboats, and work his way up from there till he finds his fortune and restores his family name.  But while his future is settled, the present is still an issue and Scrooge wants to teach the child murder club a lesson and thus borrows, though MM wisely points out it’s all his property a horse and some armor, and stuffs the armor with peat. As for what his plan is.. welllll

That.. is fucking awesome. And far from the last fucking awesome moment in this thing. It also shows off even as not quite a teen yet, Scrooge is still a badass already, and while he doesn’t have his trademark strength or fighting skills quite yet, his ingenuity is already there.. and that will always trump both. The Whiskervilles run away and into some quicksand and Scrooge vows to return one day as laird and reclaim his family land. But that’s a story for a few chapters down the line. As for who the mystery duck is, he’s naturally Sir Quackely himself, or rather his ghost, who was simply guiding Scrooge and didn’t give him the treasure as simply handing him the money wouldnn’t restore their family’s good name or continue their bloodline now would it? 

For now Scrooge returns to work for a bit before finding his way to America: A cattleboat to New Orleans looking for a Cabin Boy. And so Scrooge bids farewell to his family. His Dad, feeling bad he can’t even give his boy shilling, gives him the family pocketwatch with jake pitching in with the family gold dentures. While Scrooge naturally refuses to sell the watch, he does plan to sell the teeth as soon as possible for good reason. We then get some sweet goodbyes with him, his sisters (With hortense uttering her first words to everyone’s astonishment) and loving mother as he wonders just what awaits him in America. 

And there he stands on the bow of a ship, heading for a new land, in New Orleans he can be a new man. And we’ll see just what kind of man he becomes as this series continues. For now this is the end of a chapter but the beginning of a lifetime. 

Final Thoughts on Last of the Clan McDuck:

This story is excellent. While there are even better chapters to come, this one is still one of the most memorable and most joyous, showing just how Scrooge became what he is, where some of his values come from, others will be instilled along the way , and beginning to flesh out his family. We see Scrooge’s love of wealth comes from starting from the bottom, growing up with a family that barely had anything and badly needed everything, but was loving and instilled fine morals in him. We also see a Scrooge far removed from the bitter old man he is in present day, an optimistic naïve young lad who only wants best for his family. It’s a nice stark contrast to who he’ll become, good and bad, and a nice way to both compare him to Huey Dewey and Louie and break your heart as his own hardens before briefly turning black later on.  The art, as is standard for this series and Rosa, is breathtaking, and the story isn’t lacking in good jokes, their just downplayed so the story itself can take center stage. There’s nothing really more to say: it’s an excellent start to an even more excellent tale and stands proud among an already stellar story as one of it’s finest outings. 

NEXT RAINBOW: Scrooge goes down to the mighty Missipi to work on the riverboats and meets one of his signature Rogue’s for the first time in their first form, as well as Gyro’s dad.. or grandpa.. or possibly both I don’t know his family tree. Point is, tune in next time for some riverboat hyjinks.  Until then if you’d like to comission an episode of any animated show, especially ducktales and the various other duck related disney shows, or another Duck Comics story you really like from Rosa, Barks or whoever you want really, I take commissions for 5 dollars a review, with 5 dollars off your full order when you put in for more than one episode or issue. You can also follow me on patreon.com/popculturebuffet and for just two bucks a month get access to polls (which i’ll start once we have at least three patreons), and my exclusive discord server. And if you liked this review be sure to reblog it to show off. My self promotion done until next time: There’s always another rainbow. 

[savrenim]

hi hi hi. so I just got into the Hamilton fandom, I swear I am four years late where did everybody go, and, well. I am apparently a hamburr shipper. bcs that is my life now. anyway I saw your fic ifmlam and I swear it is my favourite of all the fics I've ever read (and trust me I've read literally thousands). I love it so so much, how do you write fics like that??? I cried about four times during the whole thing, I stayed up till 4am reading it even when I had to wake up at 7 because it is just. that. good. I could not stop thinking about it for days afterwards and ifmlam has just ruined me. I can't think of listen to Hamilton without thinking of ifmlam anymore.

on to my qursttion: is it abandoned? of course it's perfectly FINE if it is. don't let anyone tell u differently, your fic is YOURS and u are amazing.

but pls I really need closure from ur fic, it has been haunting me if its abandoned or ongoing and I've read ur other fics and they are just chefskiss and thank you so much for writing them all. thank you thank you thank you, I will never be able to thank you enough for writing this fic and for everything it's done for me. I am probably thousands of miles away but I am sending you virtual jugs through a co.puter screen right now.

(don't feel pressured to reply to this or update it flam, I know how overwhelming it can get with so many messages and after a while u get desensitized to it. u can literally reply "thx. itfmlam is abandoned" and I would still be amazingly star struck. anyway has gotten way too long and I need to sleep and I'm sorry u probably won't see this so I'm just talking to myself right now but bye!!)

and thank you so so much for writing itfmlam.

aaaah hello anon!

thank you so so much???? I am so??? honored??? that ifmlam rates so highly to you, and also that you've read my other fics??????

the answer to the "is ifmlam abandoned" question is probably the worst possible one, which is pretty much "I do want to finish it, both for the folks that still want closure as well as it bothers to me have abandoned projects that are in the public eye/ already partially published, but also, it is last on my current writing projects list"

my current actually active writing projects list, kind of in order of priority, is

I'm literally three chapters away from being Actually Fully Done with the not-quite-first-not-quite-second let's call it 1.5th draft of an actual?? full?? original?? novel?? Opus which of course then goes out to beta readers and then gets who-knows-how-much edited and then maybe beta readers again if a lot does change and then a copyeditor my mom, my copyeditor is my mom, and maybe my little brother he's one of the betas but is very good at catching typos and then I!!! get to publish it!!!! which is the single thing I am most excited for!!!!!!!!! this should be closed up in the next week or two, and then take a while for people to actually read the draft and get back to me.

I really desperately want to finish my open-but-like-90%-written fic, which means we raise it up, the final chapter of to the bottom of the river bc I realized that it was kind of incomplete, and the second chapter of a buried and a burning flame because any more work there will need to wait until the author publishes the next book in the series. this should be closed up in the next month or two.

Speedwrite the draft of the second book of the Opus series so that hopefully by the time book 1 edits are happening, I have an almost complete draft of the second book. this is mostly me side-eyeing myself about taking nearly four years to write the first book, but that is solidly in part because I had so many other open projects which point 2 is about clearing that docket. this should be done in the next year.

And then just have my major projects be, at least until books 1-5 are written and published, books 1-5 of that because that is arguably the first major 'plot arc' of the series, so if I'm looking for a pause point on writing, that's probably where to stop.

There are two or three other short side projects (a weird fun second person short story tentatively titled witch-queen, a collection of four short stories Memoirs about a not-so-evil necromancer and the shenanigans he gets up to trying to rule a kingdom, working title Perfectly Normal Recipe Blog which is a collaborative project about a perfectly normal recipe blog that definitely doesn't include anything out of the normal) that will happen when they happen

There are other projects that are on the backburner -- The Numanok Files, a series of probably 12-15 short novellas about a mercenary/ bounty hunter esque person in space whose specialty is dealing with hauntings, but, like, 80% of their jobs is actually "you are effectively a space home inspector pointing out faulty wiring reacting to solar flares/ there's a weird alien fungus/ it's carbon monoxide okay change your atmosphere filters" and 20% of it is punching ghosts; there's a post-post apocalypse novel that I want to write that I know characters and general pacing and half the setting but need to work out the other half and figure out how much aesthetic I want to commit to; there's Strangeside7 aka spacerace book that is my reaction to how much I love how Redline the anime movie commits itself to "no we are about a race, like 60% of the screentime is just fully going to be an utterly ridiculous sci fi space race"; there's even a ridiculous YA trilogy that I would have to completely transplant the setting but might end up writing because the interplay between angel-physics and physics-physics was one of my favorite things in the world. and I guess the weird ridiculous technically a sequel series to ifmlam that was going to be published as original books that was basically me having fun with 'okay I fucking love star wars prequels old rotting space bureaucracy galactic republic style' except with seers and that also still might happen because it does have some of the coolest sci fi concepts and honestly I thiiiink that's all?

but the tl;dr of that timeline is I'm trying to finish a punch of projects Right Now, so that I can write books 2-5 of Opus, and then when I'm done that (which honestly, my average fiction-writing output is close to 100k a year. if I'm concentrating purely on one project, and writing books that are about 100k, we are talking four years. although my job situation is super up in the air in that period and writing might get put solidly on the backburner as I try to make it in academia, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) I will re-evaluate which projects go next, and that's when ifmlam is likely to come up for review.

I do not have any expectations that I will make it as an original author. I'm planning on posting all of my stuff online for free, but, like. it is incredibly difficult to convince people to try out even a piece of free and easily accessibly original work even if one has a huge following, I am a very small fanfiction author, and from what I can tell the majority of the people who are interested in my work are mostly interested in me finishing ifmlam. writing is a hobby for me, and while I'm writing mostly for me--and hence the for me bit at least for the next five years is pretty solidly going to be this series that I am deeply excited about and have sunk my heart and soul into every single aspect of--I'm human, and I don't really like shouting into the void, and I expect if I spend five years publishing to absolutely no response I will either stop writing for a while and do other things gods know my life is busy enough, return to fandom in general to write some other fanfic about whatever I get deeply into, or return to a work that I actually get response to. so ifmlam will probably start getting worked on a bit at that point one way or another. unless, of course, we are in the incredibly rare timeline in which I do make it as an original author, there are people who are deeply hyped for my original works and an actual demand for them, in which case as you may have noticed there are enough ideas there to keep me busy for a decade or two, and they will just get my full attention instead of fanfiction*. in this timeline, I will do what I was considering doing a few years ago, which is officially declare ifmlam otherwise abandoned and make one more giant chapter update which is a full and cleaned up outline of what I was going to write, interspersed with the scenes already written, and have ifmlam be given at least that closure.

*I want to make it clear that I very much love fanfiction and am proud to have been a fanfiction author and in my heart of hearts would keep writing it forever, I just also have a lot of ideas for characters and settings and magic systems and Aesthetics and I have been biting at the bit to write something that is //mine// and all mine and only mine for a while, I don't see original work as superior so much as there are a dozen fandoms that I am currently in and bursting to make content about except oops these fandoms currently only exist in my head, and I want to correct that

of course given how much as writing is my vent activity and I write what I'm in the mood for, there's a chance I'll feel ifmlam cravings before then, just... expect it to take a couple of years for an update, but also for there to be an update one way of another in a couple of years? but as for right now, I'm turning to original writing, because that is what brings me joy.

but I am really deeply honored that it brought you so much joy!!! and while I will never publish spoilers in a public place, if you message me off anon I am perfectly happy to give a run-down of my current plans for the ending, bc I know "wait a couple years and see" is not the most satisfactory of answers! and hey maybe you'll be like me and once you've given Opus a try you'll decide you like it better too, it does have Seers although they are deeply different Seers than in ifmlam but imo it's very gay and fun and at least politics on one side

[magicflowershop]

❁ every 12.30 pm

➳ timeskip!sugawara x reader oneshot

➵ fluff, heart-warming, cute kids

✿ you found a cute teacher in your niece’s school, so maybe picking up a kid from school everyday isn’t such a bad idea.

❀ // hi! i’ve been gone for so long and finally i finished this after weeks of letting it rot in my drafts,, i don’t wanna delete this bc it feels like i’ll foresaken my angel Suga so here i hope you all enjoy my first oneshot :>

word count // 3,257

of all days, you picked this day as the day to slack off.

there was no reason to doll up, you reasoned. this was your rest day. no plans were made and no places you needed to go, so you went and picked up your sister’s kid wearing your house clothes.

no biggie. a few blocks distance wouldn’t hurt your sense of insecurity. a kindergartener’s teacher also wouldn’t possibly judge how you look when you’re only out to pick a kid up from school.

today, however, was different.

everything became instinct. your fingers went up the center of your jacket, to zip it up entirely. your hands then reached down to your sweatpants, checking if you were wearing it the right way. to your hair, if there are hair strands that are where they’re supposed to be. everything became instinct so you don’t look so much like a mess

in front of this fine preschool teacher.

“i’m Futaba’s guardian.”

your throat let out the softest, shyest voice you could ever project. you found yourself shamelessly, and instinctively, acting cute in front of this fine preschool teacher. 

how else were you supposed to react? his beautiful gray hair enticed you, with a fringe softly parted on the center of his forehead. his porcelain skin that put Snow White to shame, his round, brown eyes that reflected every star in the galaxy, and his smile that could win a boxing match against the sun. not to mention, the mole under his left eye definitely hit the mark.

“good afternoon, Futaba’s guardian-san.”

hearing his voice for the first time, you’re decided. it was a crush.

perhaps it was superficial of you. you claim to fall for a guy you don’t know only for the fact you found him cute. you thought looking at him, admiring him like this was enough however when his angelic smile brightened at the sight of the children waving bye-bye to him and him waving bye-bye back. when he went down on one knee in front of your sister’s daughter, politely asking her she has to stop playing with her classmates because you have come to bring her home. when Futaba spread her arms and wrapped them around his neck, telling him a lispy see you tomorrow.

how dare you face someone like him looking like this.

on the way home, you were dead-set on asking your sister to let you bring your niece home every schoolday. seeing him once was not enough. something about him gravitated you to wanting to see more of him.

you remember the name written on his nametag when you caught the last glimpse of him. 

“Sugawara”

his name reminded you of grass fields, as it is what it meant. it was perfect for him. the aura he emitted was rather calming. people must like having him around for he’s a breath of fresh air. he really was a perfect kindergarten teacher.

“how was school, Futaba?”

your niece skipped as she walked, visibly excited to talk about her day. “it was really fun! my classmates and i had a tea party earlier! Futaba almost spilled the cup because it was too hot.”

“what about your teachers?” you wanted to smack yourself for squeezing information about a guy from your 5-year-old niece. it is a desperate move however, which else choice do you have?

“ah! Sugawara-sensei read us a beanstalk story before nappy time.” Futaba put a finger on her chin as if to think about what else happened. she had no idea how hooked she got you to listen to her story. “then, then Sugawara-sensei helped Futaba with her clay family!”

you then considered yourself lucky.

“do you like Sugawara-sensei?”

and pushed the topic about the man further, seeing the sparkles in your niece’s eyes and how she skipped even happier. “yes! yes! Futaba’s favorite teacher is Sugawara-sensei,” she declared and continued shyly. “he helped Futaba talk to her crush Kaito-kun.”

when you said you were dead-set, you are dead-set for real. what’s there to lose? kids love him, including your own niece. he’s beautiful. he has a gentle voice. he probably smells like daisies. you just have to befriend him and get to know about him some more before introducing him to your parents-

as a friend. 

right?

“for what? did you find a cute guy there or something?”

it sucked your sister knew you too well.

that day, you invited yourself in your sister’s room the second she got home from work. the sly yet desperate move visibly annoyed the older so much that she knew you had something up your sleeve to even dare show up in her room.

“no. just that, it’s a good way to take breaks from the café. plus, i get to hang out with Futaba.” you explained as simply as you could, even though your sister literally can see right through your lies.

she hummed and replied with, “you never get out of the house unless it’s absolutely necessary. when i asked you to take Futaba home from school yesterday, you hated it because your break time from café is ruined. please. find someone else to fool, y/n.”

you soon admit that you truly are dumb. that, however, did not stop you from redeeming yourself to your sister; that being telling the truth and not exactly redeeming anything. you told her the man you set your eyes on in Futaba’s school. you jokingly told her it was love at first sight even though you never believed of something as ridiculous as such.

besides, your sister has no room to reject. you aimed at two birds with one stone. not only do you get to see more of the guy, but you will do your sister a favor of taking care of her daughter for free.

she sighed, finding no way to deny this. “i hate to say it but your timing is too good. i was thinking of finding a babysitter for Futaba since both of us are busy. but if you insist, who am i to decline?”

so this side job began the following day. 

thirty minutes spared during your break before you engage yourself to war. you decided to spend those thirty minutes to rearrange yourself. you would rather not switch into your house clothes like you did yesterday, would you? this time, you chose carefully. you didn’t want to look like a floor rag but you didn’t want to look like you went there to go on a date either. even to contemplate whether or not you must add a little more blush on your cheeks to look lively.

you changed into a casual fit. a plain shirt, denim shorts and a pair of slip-on sandals. it was an attempt to not look like you were trying too hard. not with those clean ponytail and tinted lips.

“good afternoon, i’m Futaba’s guardian.” you told yourself a good job that you remembered to greet today.

but Sugawara wasn’t the one you directed that to. 

he wasn’t around. you sneaked glances left and right to see if he was playing together with the other kids, but alas.

you walked home with Futaba, holding her hand. you try to match the child’s mood as she was very elated to talk about her day. on the other hand, you; Sugawara could have been busy. you can still see him again the following day.

the following days, you lessened your get up from your first attempt. he was present, but the greetings were the same as first day you met.

what the hell are you supposed to do now? do you start conversations? well, of course, you told yourself, since you’re the one who wants something from him. but how? what should you talk about? your day? his day? the kids? his job? what?

“thank you for taking care of Futaba.”

“hm? it is my job though.”

there goes your little motivation to initiate conversations with people you’re interested in. 

you hear him chuckle at you, which added to the embarrassment you had from your statement alone. 

today was parents’ day. the kids were asked to bring their parents to school to have a little meeting with the rest of the class. it worried you that Futaba only had you as her guardian to go with her, not her mother, but you see the kid in her high spirits since this morning you didn’t want to ruin that for her and apologize on her mother’s behalf.

you think this as you lean against the wall at the corner, until you notice Sugawara stood beside you. so much so, you spoke absent-mindedly.

you should have kept your mouth shut.

“is Futaba’s mother doing okay? we haven’t seen her since a week ago.”

or maybe you don’t have to keep your mouth shut after all. you turned to him, stunned. like, goodness, he’s starting a topic with you himself. how can you not be stunned.

“o sorry. is it a sensitive topic? i’m sorry-”

“no!” you said audibly. too audibly. you clamped your mouth, worried if you took the children’s attention away from the kids who are presenting in front. you continued in a whisper, while he still chuckled at you, “Futaba’s mom recently switched work schedules that clashes together with the kid’s school. she wasn’t allowed to take a leave today, so i’m here in her place.”

geez, were you talking too much?

“i see.”

you probably were talking too much.

“you two are siblings, no?”

“uh, yeah. we are.”

he nodded to himself, turning to the kids presenting again. a silent heave of relief escaped you while you leaned comfortably against the wall again. guess that was enough interaction for the day.

“i guess, we’ll keep seeing Futaba’s guardian-san from now on.” he gave you a gentle smile, leaning a bit closer to you from the half-feet distance.

“you don’t have to keep calling me that.”

“my apologies. what should i call you?”

“y/n.”

“y/n-san then.”

he gave you one last boyish smile before walking off to his station.

hold up.

did he just come here to ask for your name? did he trick you into telling him your name?

you and Futaba went home happily. literally, the both of you had a great day in school. here, you were giggling like a kid who just got noticed by her crush. but you could be wrong. it’s only natural of a teacher to learn one of his student’s  guardian’s name. he cannot be interested in you. 

on the other hand, he did start a conversation with you.

don’t get ahead of yourself, you thought. you cannot help but still think about it.

the traffic lights flashed a green color.

days went on. you stayed as the one bringing your niece home safely every afternoon while the mother is busy. the relationship and trust you built with the child strengthened. your heart swell each time you see her jumping in joy whenever you show up after school. when you thought that alone will bring you happiness everyday, Sugawara greets you everyday with the same boyish smile.

each day pass, soon you become close friends. this made Futaba happy as you two are two of her favorite people.

until one day, the teacher called saying Futaba got sick.

worry engulfed you. you wondered what could’ve happened for the child to get sick, when she was fine earlier before her and her mother left together. could your sister not have noticed? or did it happen during school? more and more questions took shape as you frantically closed the café and ran to the school.

you rushed inside the nurse’s office, panting profusely. your eyes first caught your niece lying on the bed unconscious, and Sugawara sitting by the bed, placing a damp towel on her forehead.

“good morning, I’m Futaba’s guardian.”

Futaba’s teacher explained the situation to you. the kids were outside playing in the playground when Sugawara saw Futaba drenched in one hidden part of the garden. you see another kid standing beside the teacher. the kid gripped the hem of his shirt tightly as if he wanted to rip it off. the scowl on his face says enough of why he was here.

“i didn’t do it.”

the teacher continued, “ever since parent’s day, apparently some students have been picking on Futaba for not having her mother around.

“i’m terribly sorry. i’ve helped Futaba in ways i can. even i wanted to call you for this, but when i told Futaba i will, she begged me not to tell you because you and her mother are both busy with work.” she nudged the kid beside her, “isn’t there something you need to tell Futaba’s guardian?”

the kid averted his eyes. you figured there was no reason squeezing an apology from stubborn children like him. you kneeled before the kid to be at the same level as his eyes.

“what’s your name?”

he spent a few seconds quivering his lips before speaking, “Sora.”

“Sora,” you held his shoulder gently, looking into his eyes. “you’re very lucky to always have your mother by your side.”

tears formed in his innocent eyes.

you went on. “always remember to tell your mom that you love her, long as you still have her around, so she will stay. okay?” you finished, smiling at him as bright as you could.

Sora erupted into tears, storming off out of the nurse’s office and yelling his apology.

kids.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to make him cry.” you reasoned, when you know full well you did it on purpose to put that kid into a guilt trip for messing with your niece like this. the teacher said it was fine, that she could’ve done it the same thing but a different way.

ignoring that, you turned to Sugawara, who you forgot was there the whole time, “i’m sorry for the trouble. i’ll be taking her home now.”

“i can help you bring her home.” 

Sugawara stood up from his seat. this startles you because you also forgot you had a crush on him. you try to decline his offer, reasoning that your house is nearby and that you can carry a kid no problem.

but the Futaba’s teacher helped insist, “Sugawara-sensei should help you look after Futaba… uh, y/n-san was it?” you nodded, dubiously. “it was also said by Futaba that you’re working alone in your house with no one to help you. so please.”

you couldn’t decline when you saw Sugawara already carrying the kid behind his back. so you went home together with him, big deal. you felt embarrassed after getting your background get found out like that. guess Futaba is too honest of a kid, but not honest enough to tell her family that she was bullied at school.

“here will do.”

the two of you finally stood in front of your father’s café. the walk was silent, but you believed it was enough interaction for the day once more.

“you weren’t kidding when you say it was nearby, huh?” he said, looking through the glass windows.

“well. yeah.”

“that’s too bad,” he says, still carrying the kid on his back. he looks back to you. the smile appears again, “aren’t you going to open the door?”

you unlocked the doors. then, it hit you. what did he mean by too bad?

after taking Futaba up to her room and tucking her in bed, you went back down to the café where you found Sugawara idling about. “you can rest yourself on one of the booths. let me brew a drink for you.” you took your apron and hurried behind the counter. meanwhile, the man stood up perhaps wanting to leave. 

“oh, you don’t have to make me a drink. i should be leaving.”

this confused you. really, what was that too bad for?

“you went all the way to our café. it’s only natural i made a drink for you.” you try and justify yourself. also, you already pressed the espresso machine. there’s no reason to waste a cup of espresso.

“if so, must i stay?”

this was the second to the last straw.

you stood there, one hand holding the ice scooper and the other holding a grande-sized cup, while staring at him straight into his bright eyes. those orbs must be telling you something. there should be a secret hiding within those eyes. for example, an answer to his question. 

“do you want to stay?” you first broke the gaze.

“i’m the one asking you, y/n,” he said with a chuckle. 

once again, you hesitated. “sure.”

the café flooded with silence while you made an iced latte for him. you trailed your gaze to the top of his head as he sat on one of the booths. concerns arise from the pit of your mind. nothing seemed to be happening. then, what is he here for? if he stayed, what will happen? is this all on purpose? should you put your guards up? 

are the green lights alit again?

you put the iced latte on his table when he spoke. “i’m quite worried about Futaba with what happened to her.”

“well, she did a good job hiding the truth from us.” you say as you sat across him. “she’s a strong kid. i’m more worried if she will continue hiding her pain from the people who care about her.”

maybe you shouldn’t start such a touchy subject like this, yea? Sugawara landed his eyes at you but you avoided it and stood up. you have no idea what’s going on. if anything, this is not the right context of when something will develop. both of you just brought home a sick kid, for Pete’s sake. must you really take advantage of this?

“anyway, i’ll tell my sister what happened. she can help Futaba better than i-”

“i wonder if i’ll still see you every afternoon.”

his honesty astounded you. Sugawara’s pale face flushed from shame. guess he didn’t mean to say that. this means, if you weren’t getting ahead of yourself again, it’s how he actually feels.

you tried to lessen his embarrassment, “of course you will, who else will pick Futaba up from school?” so you played dumb.

“if your sister knew about the situation, she might switch her schedule.”

what was he trying to say?

“she can’t do that easily, you know.”

“there will still be a possibility.” he rested his chin on his palm, smiling at you, “which reminds me, i have been looking for a part-time job around here. is your café looking for more workers?”

“you wanna work here?” you ask as you went and flip the sign to open, since you’re already back for work.

“sure,” he picked himself up from the booth and walked towards you. “but i think i should follow someone’s footsteps first and make an impression. you know, you’re going to be my boss. i should meet you with casual clothes, not with a track jacket, sweat pants and unkept hair. what do you think?”

you flipped the sign to close. “are you mocking someone here?”

he tried to not make himself laugh at you. “i’m just saying i shouldn’t half-ass it if i’m looking for another job, y/n.”

“doesn’t sound like you’re actually looking for another job though?” 

“i’m not,” he admitted. “i’m only looking for a reason to see you more. every 12.30 pm isn’t enough.”

the traffic lights said go. it is now 12.31 pm.

[dumb-hat]

Character Sheet - Evander Winsome

—————- Link to blank template!

Rules: Things in brackets are meant only as guidelines, to be erased and your answers written in place of. Things separated by | are for bolding and italicising.

Tagged by: No one! I saw this reblogged by @mooglemeet​, so I went ahead and grabbed it directly from @bluespiritfire​. Link to the blank template is up above! Tagging: No one specific/anyone who wants to. Feel free to tag me back so I can see it!

Name: Evander Winsome Age: 26 Pronouns: He/him Birthdate: 12th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~ Race: Hyur From the First: Interracial heritage:

Hometown/city: Limsa Lominsa Current residence/popular haunt:Ul’dah

~~APPEARANCE~~

Eyes: brown | blue | green | gold | red | purple | multicoloured | other (amber) Hair: brunette | black | blonde | red (ginger or crimson?) | grey/white (aged or natural?) | multicoloured | none | other (…) Hair type: straight | curly | ringlets | wavy | wiry | frizzy | voluminous | thin | other (unruly) Hair style: A shaggy mop deeply in need of a trim, permanent hat hair. (It’s Aymeric hair. I can’t imagine he’ll ever wear the outfit, but the hair was worth it!) Body type: beefy | curvaceous | fat | lean | muscular | petite | skinny | stocky | other (…) Height: short | tall | specific measurement (5′9) Skin: ashen | caucasian | dark | fair | freckled | olive | tanned | other Facial features: birthmark | beard (stubble) | face paint | fur | scales | scars | tattoos | other (…) Body features: birthmark | beard | ears (anything unique about them) | face paint | fur | missing limb/s | scales | scars | tail | tattoos | other (…)

Favourite/commonly used clothes:

~~SKILLS~~ DoL/DoH Botanist | Fisher | Miner | Alchemist | Armorer | Blacksmith | Carpenter | Culinarian | Goldsmith | Leatherworker | Weaver fun | profit | self-sustainability

~~COMBAT~~ Main discipline Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Secondary/Tertiary/Extra Classes Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Fighting style aggressive | cautious | hard-and-fast | tactical | defensive | protective | all out | wait-and-see | charge in headlong | reckless | self-sacrificing | party-oriented | loner |

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? Nothing in particular

~~PERSONALITY TRAITS~~ abrasive | abusive | accepting | aggressive | analytical | anxious | arrogant | assertive | brave | bossy | calm | caring | cautious | cheerful | chronic liar | confident | controlling | cowardly | creative/inventive | cunning | curious | determined | disinterested | envious | fearless | frosty | frugal | generous | greedy | gullible | honest | humorous | impatient | impulsive | indifferent | insecure | intelligent | irresponsible | jealous | just | kind | loyal | lustful | manipulative | materialistic | meek | modest | money-driven | naïve | narcissistic | oblivious | overbearing | patient | passive | perceptive | possessive | prickly | quiet | relaxed | religious | sarcastic | secretive | self-assured | self-conscious | self-deprecating | selfish | selfless | spiritual | strict | stubborn | tired | thoughtful | unpredictable | virtuous | vocal | wary | wise | other

~~LIKES~~ Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavors: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (…) Favorite Dish: Dzo steak & popotoes (small, seasoned and baked ones are best, but he won’t turn away mashed or fried) Favorite Color: Whites, browns, grays Favorite Sound: Soft, quiet breaths; glasses tinking together, machinery clicking into place Favorite Smell: Juniper, jasmine, iris; citrus and sandalwood, hard liquor Favorite Place: Anywhere he can find a good drink and great company Favorite Holiday: the Moonfire Faire Other: Evander likes free-spirited people, people who know how to relax, people who aren’t afraid to call him out on his shit, but also aren’t too eager to do so

~~DISLIKES~~ Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavors: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (sticky) Least Favorite Dish: Emerald soup, lutefisk. In general, he shies away from things that are really bitter or cloyingly sweet. Least Favorite Color: Really, really, really bright greens, yellows and pinks. Think neon.  Least Favorite Sound: Pained screams, metal grinding against metal Least Favorite Smell: Blood, rot, vomit Least Favorite Place: Jail Least Favorite Holiday: Starlight Other: He has a general disdain for nobility, law enforcement and people who take everything too seriously.

~~HOBBIES~~ art (what medium/s?) | adventuring | cooking | fighting/sparring | finance | gardening | golden saucer attractions (Lord of Verminion, chocobo racing, Doman mahjong, triple triad) | hiking | hunting (game or hunt marks) | lacks hobbies | music | physical sports | reading (almost anything he can get his hands on, though he regards romance novels as a kind of quiet, not-quite-guilty pleasure) | running | scrapbooking | sewing/knitting/other needlework | sightseeing | socializing | swimming | training | writing | other (…)

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~ Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: mother | father | aunt and/or uncle | grandparents | adoptive | foster | mentor | family friend/godparents | other Siblings: One older brother; deceased Children: None that he knows of Romantic: single | unrequited | crushing | dating | engaged | married | divorced/separated | widow/widower | recently split | it’s complicated (I mean, not to him. To him, it makes total sense. Well, most of it does.) | other (…) Friends: Evander tends to befriend and trust people fairly easily, though it can take him a bit to really open up. Once you’ve hit that point, you’ve likely got a friend for life. Rivals/Enemies: To the best of his knowledge, he’s left these all behind somewhere or other, thanks largely to his restless need to wander. That said, there’s surely a few lurking in the past and there’s always room for more, of course!

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? He’ll often make complaining noises about paying for drinks and dinner, but he’ll do it every time and would be slightly hurt if people didn’t let him.

~~HAVE DEALT WITH/IS DEALING WITH~~ abuse (ongoing or recovering, verbal or physical) | acceptance | a new relationship (unlikely friendship, step-sibling/parent, etc) | a new romance | betrayal | broken heart | budgeting | bullying | caution | confidence | crisis of faith | depression | grief | health issues | how to trust | learning from a mistake (as in “doesn’t enough) | loss | love | new people | new place | opening up to someone/others | parenthood | physical changes (loss of a limb or other sense, inability to do things previously able to) | politics | PTSD | poverty | racism | reconciling previously held beliefs | responsibility | sacrifice (self or of another) | self-acceptance | self-esteem | to value myself | to value others | trauma (medical, mental, emotional) | war | wealth | other (…)

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? Poorly, typically.

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~ Notable Weapons He doesn’t have any particular bond with any of his weapons, really. He sees them as tools, and ones that he uses only reluctantly. He sometimes enjoys tinkering with the ones he builds, but that’s more of a hobby than anything. 

Notable Mounts He has various vehicles and machines he likes to fuss over and drive around, but he’s particularly fond of his SDS Fenrir.

In addition to his chocobo—a particularly stubborn beast named Doreen—he’s also fond of his battlesheep, Doctor One and a colossal crab he’s dubbed St. Barnabus.

Notable Minion/s Besides Doctor One and St. Barnabas, Evander is especially fond of various clockworks, automata, wind-ups and models that he’s put together. His favorite is a drone modeled after a Magitek bit that he’s named Valencia.

Keepsakes/Mementos

A pendant in the shape of a swan, a few too many flasks

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities Evander lives with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. I’ve written about it a few places, most notably at length here and in brief here. How do they deal with these? Depends on the day, really. This isn’t really a thing he has a name for, so it’s not a thing he can easily address. He’s got a sloppily slapped together set coping mechanisms that work about half the time, if he’s lucky. Other than that, he mostly hopes for good days full of things he can convince himself he’s interested in.

Education Level He likes it when people underestimate him, so he’s not always quick to admit to the formal Ishgardian education afforded to him by the family that took him in when he left Limsa Lominsa. He’ll often try to pass it off as eclectic, self-driven studies... Which, admittedly, also played a big part in shaping him. 

Habits There’s a lot of excess in his life. He drinks too much. He eats too much. He stays up too late, too long, and then sleeps too late, too long. He’s almost always got a flask or four on his person, and he often finds that he’s picking up the dinner or drink tab wherever he goes. 

Other Nothing immediately springs to mind, but I’m sure there’s like a dozen things I should put here. This thing has been sitting in my drafts for god-knows-how-long, so I’m just glad to finally get it out there. 

[ff15trashgoldenslumbers]

So because this was just rotting in my drafts and I figured I’d do nothing with it...Here you go...

So five-ever ago, I was to write a story about Noctis’s elder sister, and how she would mess with the story line, but with more fun prompts appearing in my inbox and not really wanting to do a whole story that was basically a 15 chapter monster, and the fact I hardly got beyond the plot line and this ultra dramatic scene. I stopped thinking about. 

Plus when DLC came out and more info was being prepared I just kinda forgot about it, so it’s been rotting in my drafts untouched as it was originally created before I even touched the game myself.

But! Because I’m a lover of the drama,I decided to post it as the rough draft!

So set up to the story:

At age 15 the elder Princess of the Lucian family, had gone to visit Tarabene when Noctis had become injured as a kid. The young Princess grew close to Ravus over the visit, but witness the death of Queen Sylva, before she could rush to tell her Father the truth, a man with red hair stopped her and erased part of her memory.

Regis holding Noctis, and a grip on Lunafreya’s hand rush to get out of the way of the attack that is on them. The young Princess is found stumbling about the field, Regis stops long enough to notice that his daughter is fine, passing her Noctis and taking both her and Lunafreya’s free hand and rushes to safety. Upon hearing Ravus calls for help, Regis stops when both the hands he’s holding stop. Lunafreya rushes to her brother’s side, Regis goes to call out for her, only to find Noctis back within his arms, as his daughter races toward Ravus.

Only for the Princess to be snagged by the back of her dress and pulled into her father’s arms, as he starts moving his children to safety. 

Regis holding both his children leaves the battlefield, trying to ignore his daughter’s harsh cries for him to turn around.

At the age of 18 the Princess starts courting Ravus, and soon the two are wedded. Much Noctis horror that his sister would ever marry Ravus, until her realizes just how in love she is with him. The Princess promises to visit every Spring before she is to be returned to her husband.

Prior to the fall, the group is tasked to take the Princess home, when they leave they notice that the Princess is in tears as she says goodbye to King Regis something she had never done before when having to return home if anything she’s always smiling.

Throughout the trip, she is seen as the elder sister to everyone in the group. Often making certain that the others are fine, and having no troubles stopping arguments. When the news breaks of the Fall of Insomnia, she explained that Noctis is now King and that he will have to take up the arms. The others watch the kind sweet Princess become rather harsh to the red headed stranger they meet.

The Princess in order to help the others get away, gives herself over the Niflheim Army as they wouldn’t hurt Commander Ravus’s wife. 

While waiting in Tarabene for Lunafreya to appear, Ravus visits his wife…

“Ravus? Ravus!” She called rushing toward her husband, holding him tightly. “Ravus you’re here!”

Ravus returned her embrace just as tightly, “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

He pushed her away only slightly to look her over “Were you hurt? Were you in the city? Did you…”

She stepped back slightly shaking her head, “I was not there during The Fall.” She replied, turning icy blue eyes to her husband. “I was not there in person, but I’ve seen it. I saw everything that happened.”

Ravus glanced away, those of the Lucian line had strange ties to the Gods. He was aware of his wife’s dreams, as they often woke himself out of his sleep when he was able to spend nights beside her, by the woman gasping.

“Ravus,” 

That harsh voice made him looked to her, but Gods how he hated that look of that beautiful face of his wife.

“Ravus, did you know that My Father was going to die?”

No, holding back. No pause! She was furious! Still she had every reason to be so.

Ravus stepped forward his arms held out to the woman, “I did not mean,”

“You did not mean what!” She cried stepping back. “My Father, my Father is dead Ravus.”

Ravus tried another step forward, but she stepped back again, “I was not.”

“Did Ardyn hide this from you? I ran into him, he’s out their chasing the boys, my brothers.” She barked, angry tears spilling from her eyes. “Ravus, I saw it, I saw Daddy get ran through, I saw him die Ravus, he was right there. I couldn’t, I couldn’t save him. Just like I couldn’t save you.” She cried, her tears falling hard, she sniffed knowing that her makeup was running and that she looked nothing like the calm collected woman that always stood by her husband side.

“Please, there was nothing I could,” This time the High Commander was stopped in his tracks, by the strong slap of his wife. The sound echoing through out the room.

“Did you want this? Did you want me to suffer?”

Ravus glanced to the floor, “I should have never let you go.”

“Let me go? Let me go! Ravus I know you hated Daddy, I know you did, and because of what?” She cried, you never brought this up, but it tugged at her for years and the words fell before she could catch them. “You hated Daddy because he left you on the battlefield! At the moment he was not thinking as a King or a Warrior he was thinking as a Father! Daddy rushed Noctis and I off that field, he went to go after Lunafreya too. At the time I was too young and stupid to know that, but seeing Noctis and the others on the field, I understood what he did so much more. That’s why I gave myself over.”

“I…”

She lowered her hand still raised from her strike, “Ravus I want you to replace yourself with my Father that day, I want you to pretend that for that moment it was Lunafreya and myself what would you have done?”

Ravus’s dual eyes widen, “I would protect you.”

She raised her hand, cupping her husband’s cheek that only moment prior she had striked, “I love you more than every star in the sky Ravus, you are my husband, you are my heart. When we are seperated my body and soul ache for you.” She whispered. “I just don’t know if I am in this alone.”

Ravus quickly embraced her, “I love you so much. I do not say it much, and for that I ask your forgiveness.” 

“Ravus you are my Family, and Noctis and the boys, they are my family too. Some of what little I have left. Please help me protect them.”

Ravus pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I promise.”

After the touching reuion with husband and wife, the Princess finds herself before Ardyn, demanding to know where it is that she has hidden Lunafreya. The only answer that the Princess supplies is that “A King can move only one direction, while a Queen have full rein of the board, Chancellor.”

The Princess ends up going to Alitissa to stay with Lunafreya, knowing that the others will try and make it to the Oracle and will need Noctis to form a bond with the Goddess.

Lunafreya is determined to summon Leviathan, the Princess agrees to escort her. When meeting up with the Goddess, the Princess offers herself in place of her brother and asks to have Noctis and Lunafreya spared. The Goddess explains that the Goddess demand a sacrifice of a Prince.

During the battle, Lunafreya saves Noctis, but is left weak, (unknown to everyone the Princess freezes Lunafreya prior to the battle, casting an island on herself to take the form of the Oracle) Ardyn runs the Princess through believing her to be Lunafreya. After dragging Noctis back to safety, he constantly states that Lunafreya is fine.

When alone with Ravus, who still doesn’t understand what his wife means and where his sister is, he becomes more aggravated until the Princess turns to him, tears in eyes explaining that a Prince was sacrificed to ensure that both Noctis and Luna would survive, before apologizing that she would never be able to have children with Ravus after the one they had lost when Ardyn stabbed her.

Ravus personally escorts them to the train, while his wife keeps messing with his arm. Upon boarding Ravus states he will not, “Allow another one he loves to die, and they are to protect the woman with their lives.” 

Most of the train scene is the same, Noctis and Gladiolus butt heads. Both Noctis and the Princess chase down the fake Prompto. Only for the wound Ardyn inflicted on the Princess back in Altissa to reopen, stopping the woman from warning Noctis that the Prompto he’s attacking is indeed a fake. So watches helplessly as Prompto is pushed off the train.

When Ardyn appears, and Shiva interferes freezing and shattering Ardyn. Shiva opens her arms to the Princess, apologizing fro all the hurt that she has gone through.The Princess explains that years ago, she attempted to trade her life to spare Noctis and the others, the Gods did not want that. Upon her marriage to Ravus she would have a child of both the Oracle and King’s line. 

When Ardyn killed the child in Altissa, the Princess was granted powers similar to that of the Immortal, yet by having Oracle blood run through her, due to her and Ravus child she is immune to the darkness that swallowed Ardyn. Yet with the child gone is is uncertain of Noctis’s fate.

After the Regalia breaks down, the group becomes separated. The Princess rushes to find Ravus, and manages to stop Ardyn from taking over the man. Going after Ardyn herself, she teleports Ravus away to Luna. As a last ditch effort the Princess summons a large amount of power before exploding,seeming to kill herself and Ardyn.

The Chocobros believing her to be dead are in shock, only to be confused when she pulls herself from the rubble, more worried about them than herself as she embrace them tightly quickly falling into a comatose state from the drain of power. Only to be awoken the crystal’s power, jumping from Gladiolus’s arms, she manages to grab Noctis’s arm, before being thrown back by the crystal. The woman crying and begging the crystal to take her instead.

After 10 years have pass, Noctis returns yet the Princess dawns a battle uniform, telling Ravus to remain with a frozen Lunafreya. Explaining should she pass the ice will shatter. She mets her brother fro the first time in 10 years. Protecting the others with her magic. She explains none can kill Ardyn but Noctis.

When Noctis moves to ascend the throne and bring back the sun, Princess takes his spot, calling to the gods, “I am first born of the line, the throne is mine. A prince was given up as you wish, and for I am the rightful rule of this line it is mine, Come to me!”

The gods not truly able to argue as they had taken a Prince of Lucian blood, an Oracle child, and that the Princess was first in line for the throne, she had never given up the prophecy would stand.  So they run her through, through tired eyes, she smiles to the others before falling.

The Queen falls, so that the King may live offsetting the Prophecy as a Queen was never expected.

During the epilogue, as Noctis ascends the throne to a new built Insomnia, he is shocked to see Regis and his sister standing there awaiting him. The Princess steps forward resting her forehead to his with a soft smile of, “Long live the king.”

[thesoftsoobin]

➳ pairing: soobin x reader

➳ genre: proposal au, tooth-rotting fluff, angst if you squint

➳ warnings: soobin is so cute you might cry, also this is my first time writing a member x reader fic

➳ word count: 3.4k

➳ author’s notes: soobin is aged up in this and is in grad school, so about 24. also yes the title is the same as that satiric piece about eating babies, it was fitting for the story but also I thought it was funny hehe. happy valentines day!

Soobin has been distant lately, and you’re almost sure he’s getting ready to breakup with you. But little do you know, he has something much, much better planned.

An all too familiar electric blue Volkswagen Beetle sits outside the doors of your office building, engine still running. It’s parked in the spot where your boyfriend Soobin’s red SUV should be, and his best friend Yeonjun, hair the same color blue as his car, pokes his head out of the driver’s side window.

“Hey!” he waves to you with a wide grin as your eyebrows knit together. Slowly, you near his car and the band and skate shop stickers on his bumper come into focus. “What took you so long? I thought you were done at 5.”

“Sorry, I was…finishing something up…” you say, and you take a few more steps to the passenger’s side and open the door to slide in. “Is Soobin okay?”

It’s his turn to be confused now as he shifts the car into drive. “Yeah, he’s fine. Didn’t he text you? He asked me to come get you.”

While he waits at the light to pull out of the parking lot, you scramble for your bag and take out your phone. Surely enough, you have two missed texts from your boyfriend.

You frown at the words, a frustration you’re not proud of building up inside your chest. Your car broke down yesterday and is in the shop, and Soobin had promised to drive you to and from work. He’d dropped you off this morning and you texted him on your lunch, just to remind him he had to pick you up too. But apparently something much more pressing came up only 15 minutes before he was set to be there.

To be fair, this wasn’t such a big deal. You could have even walked home if you needed to. The apartment you share with Soobin and Yeonjun isn’t far from your work at all.

But it’s still winter. The sidewalks are slicked with ice, the wind chill is below freezing, and today is one of many days you’d forgotten your gloves when rushing out the door in the morning. So it was nice of him, at least, to ask Yeonjun to come.

Normally, you wouldn't be upset with him at all, for that very reason. But for the past few weeks, Soobin has been acting weird, on edge and distracted. He's been half-heartedly listening to you, always seemingly somewhere else when you'd talk, and he’s started stress-filled arguments whenever you'd ask him a simple question like what he wanted from the store.

Just this morning, you’d asked what his plans for the day were. When he simply shrugged, you pressed a bit more, sure he had something planned for his first day off in a while.

“Nothing?” You’d asked teasingly, leaning against the counter as you chewed your granola bar. “Isn’t Jun off too? You guys normally have entire, intricate plans when you get to hang out by yourselves.”

“I don’t know, babe,” he’d tensed up in response. He’d squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just...leave it, okay?”

With all of that adding up, of course you were frustrated. It felt like he was pulling away, and any time you brought it up, he would just laugh and brush it off with a simple "I'm fine."

"What's wrong?" Yeonjun asks. You hadn’t noticed your eyes were still on your phone, mouth still set in a frown.

"Be honest," you turn to him suddenly, "is Soobin going to break up with me?"

He glances from the road to you and then back to the road again, barely meeting your eye before bursting out in laughter.

"What?" you whine. "He's been acting so weird. And what's so important that he couldn't wait five minutes to pick me up first? On his day off?"

He's still stifling a laugh. "You're hilarious, Y/N. You know that?"

"I'm serious! He would've told you, right? If he was going to break up with me? Just be honest so I can prepare for it."

"He's not breaking up with you," he says, letting out another giggle, and that stills your nerves. Your shoulders fall and you sit back against the seat. "He loves you. Like, too much. It's disgusting."

You try not to smile to yourself, already feeling ridiculous for thinking he would be ending things. Choi Soobin, the man who still wakes you up with coffee and a kiss every morning and who, just yesterday, brought flowers home from the store. He saw them, yellow and pink, your two favorite colors, and thought of you.

But that brings you back to everything else about him lately. Distracted, irritable, and closed off. Of course, you had every reason to be confused. You still do.

"So why is he acting so weird then?" You ask Yeonjun as he pulls into the apartment complex. He sits up to look for a parking spot, still not meeting your eye.

"You'll just have to—" he stops himself and clears his throat. As he rounds a corner, he starts again, voice easy. "It's just his thesis. He's all stressed and everything."

"Right," you say, nodding.

That still doesn't explain why he refuses to tell you about it. He's complained to you throughout this entire process since he started the gigantic paper last year. But…you guess it makes sense. He's nearing the end of it, probably too focused on polishing it to complain.

"Right," you repeat, trying to reassure yourself as Yeonjun pulls into a free space. Trying not to entertain the thoughts that maybe he just hasn't told his best friend, and he really is planning on breaking up with you. "What were you going to say? I'll just have to what?"

"Oh, uh," he turns the key and the ignition sputters to a stop, "I was just going to say you'll have to be patient with him. Really, everything's fine. Seriously."

"Okay…"

With that, Yeonjun gives a curt nod and opens his door. He fumbles with his keys in the apartment entryway, which is a regular occurrence for him, and he lets you both in. You make your way up the carpeted stairs to the second floor and pull out your own keys to get into the apartment, worry still clawing at your heart.

The absolute disaster in the kitchen when you walk in does nothing to quell your fears. Bowls, pots, and pans are scattered around the countertops. There's splotches of flour all over the table cloth, and a pot of water is bubbling over on the stove. The stove hisses every time another drop of water splatters onto the burner.

"Shit," Yeonjun takes two steps at a time into the kitchen and turns the dial to shut it off. "I was supposed to — I think he told me to turn it off."

"Jun, what—" you take another glance around, back over the flour and the stove, and notice the lump of dough sitting in a bread pan beside the pot of water. "Was he stress baking again or something?"

But what would Soobin need to boil water for? Gnocchi?

"Ah, well, he—" Yeonjun scratches the back of his neck, pulling on a tuft of his hair. "You know, I'm not very good at— He shouldn't have—"

Another jingle of keys outside the door interrupts Yeonjun, and before he can make anything of his stammering, Soobin walks in. He looks completely normal, if not a bit disheveled, in his earmuffs and brown suede jacket.

But Yeonjun breathes out an, "Oh, thank god," and you see Soobin's eyes widen just slightly as he shuts the door behind him. He doesn't even take his boots off before stepping over to you, which you know for a fact he's made a habit of doing every winter since he could walk.

"Hi baby," he says just before giving you a small, quick kiss. Normal, fine. But you still look between him and Yeonjun with narrowed eyes. Yeonjun's staring down at his feet now, and Soobin gives a tight smile that turns into the cutest pout he can muster. "I'm sorry I broke my promise about picking you up."

"It's fine, but what exactly came up?" You ask before jutting your thumb toward Yeonjun. "And why's he acting just as weird as you now, too? A-and," you gesture around you at the mess. "And what's with all of this?"

Soobin pulls his earmuffs down and hooks them around his neck. He bites his bottom lip, and you know that his next few words are going to be a lie. You've been together long enough to know that that's his tell.

"It completely slipped my mind that I had a meeting with my advisor scheduled," he says. "He read over my most recent draft of my thesis."

"It took you only a half hour to drive to campus, have the meeting, and drive back?" you ask, and he opens his mouth to respond, but he can't seem to come up with anything to say. "Soob, why are you lying to me?"

"Babe—" he slips his hands into his pockets, taking in a breath.

"Ah, I'm gonna…go play Crazy Taxi," you hear Yeonjun say behind you.

You look back, watching Yeonjun scurry to his room and shut the door behind him. He's clearly aware of what's about to happen and must have lied to you before. Soobin is humming under his breath when you return your gaze to him, trying to come up with something to say.

"Soob, you're my best friend," you say. "If you're not—If this isn't working for you anymore, you can tell me. I'm—"

"What?" His eyebrows shoot up and he takes a step forward, cupping your face in his hands and shaking his head. "No. No, no no. That's not it! Why would you think that?"

"You've been acting so strange, and-and," you gesture back to Yeonjun's door. "And he's acting weird now too, like he knows why you're acting weird and can't say. And if it were good, he'd—"

"Y/N, no," Soobin says, leaning down to kiss you again. This time he lingers, his way of reassuring you and quelling your fears for good. "I'm not breaking up with you," he says, and then he laughs just like Yeonjun had. He’s smiling so wide his dimples show.

You smack his arm playfully, but it only makes him laugh harder. "So why is everything so different, then? And why did you lie about picking me up?"

He holds up his hands, giving up. "I know I've been off lately and starting dumb fights because...I’ve been so caught up with my paper," he says.

"Yeah," you say, urging him to continue.

"So I wanted to make it up to you by making a nice dinner," he stammers out, the apparent stress of this evening filling his voice as he goes on. "I wanted to get it done before I picked you up, but you and I both know I'm only good at baking. And I couldn't find the right pot for the rice and then I thought we were out of kochujang, so I went to the store, but then I remembered it was in the one cabinet I didn't look in."

"Soobin," you frown. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

Now — Now you can wonder how you ever thought this man was going to break up with you. You look up at him, smiling at him and to yourself.

"Well, I can help you now," you say, and you pivot and start toward the kitchen. He grabs you by the waist before you can make it very far, though, spinning you back around.

"No, no, no," he says urgently again. He's still acting kind of weird, but now you chalk it up to his surprise being ruined. "I still want to do it myself."

"Babe, no offense, but it'll take all night if you try to do it yourself," you say, turning around again. He keeps his arms around your waist, following you closely and nearly tripping on your heel as you step onto the kitchen tile.

"Y/N," he whines, wrapping his arms tighter. He rests his chin on top of your head. "Let me do this for you."

You turn around in his arms and stare up at him, and he gives you a peck on the cheek. "Can I at least help do the dishes or something?" you ask.

"No," he says. "You had a long day at work, so go relax and play Crazy Taxi with Jun."

"No," you repeat back to him, and he recoils a bit, his eyebrows coming together. "This is stressing you out more, isn't it?"

"Not at all," he insists unconvincingly, shaking his head again so his bangs swish over his forehead. As you cross your arms over your chest, he keeps trying. "Just call me Chef Choi. I'm gonna make you the best kimchi jjigae and rice and bread you've ever had in your life."

This time you stand up on your tip toes and cup his face in your hands. "Whatever you say," you tell him, and he smiles, tilting his head in your hand. "Now where's the onion and mushroom? I'll cut it up for you."

"Babbbbyyyyy," he draws the word out, but you don't stop yourself from getting the cutting board from the cabinet.

"Come on," you say and you set the board down on the countertop. "This will be more fun, anyway. I'm not letting you stress yourself out on my account."

You expect him to keep pouting, the stubborn boy that he is, but instead his face begins to soften. He stares at you with these puppy dog eyes, so wide and affectionate that you have to do a double take. You haven't seen him look at you like this since the first time he told you he loved you.

“What?” you ask, when instead of saying anything, he takes your hands in his.

“I love you so much,” he says.

“And I love…” you start to say, but he’s sinking down. Down to one knee. “...you. Soobin.”

“I think I’ve always--Do you--” he sighs, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “I had this whole speech planned in my head, but I’m looking at you now and I can’t remember the order of it or even a single word. But this isn’t exactly going as planned anyway.”

“Soob, are you--” you take one hand from his to cover your face, which is quickly heating up. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and blushing and his loving gaze is so intoxicating that you can’t help but try and hide.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” he asks, and there he goes, pulling a ring box from the pocket of the suede jacket he’s still wearing, with his winter boots still on and his earmuffs still around his neck. He’s blushing wildly too, and you notice his hands shaking as he opens the box to reveal the sapphire ring you’d mentioned wanting many times to your best friend.

You take in the entire sight, mouth agape, until you realize you haven’t responded yet and Soobin’s still looking up at you nervously.

“Yes!” you say, and it comes out a lot louder than you meant it to. “Yes, obviously.”

"Wait, really?" Soobin asks, his features still soft. He loses his balance and nearly falls to his side, catching himself with his free hand. You nod, and you hold your hand out for him to put the glimmering ring on.

He almost drops it in the process, looking up at you with eyes filled with tears instead of at what he's doing. But then he springs up, somehow not falling over again, and smiles beneath your lips as he kisses you.

"Did you really think I'd say no?" you ask when the two of you pull away, your noses still only centimeters apart.

"Well," he tilts his head to the side and sinks into himself. "I planned all of this and then started to wonder if you even still liked me."

"Soob!" you smack his arm again — with your left hand, which now has the ring you still think you may be imagining. "That's why you've been acting so weird?"

"Yeah, and I wanted it to be perfect. But now I've just ruined all of it, which is also why I'm surprised you said yes," he chuckles. "I was going to make this whole meal and bake the bread and then put the ring in the bread, but then I was so stressed about the meal that I forgot to pick up the ring from the jewelers. So I had to make Jun get you from work so that I could pick up the ring, but then you guys were here when I got back and I couldn't do what I planned since you're such a wonderful girlfriend who wanted to help me because you thought I was stressed over my thesis, which I haven't thought about for the past month because I've been planning this."

You stare at him for a moment, at the way he sighs and his shoulders sag, and you take his face in your hands again.

"That is so you that this couldn't be any more perfect," you say, and one of the tears that had been building behind his eyes slips down his cheek. "Also this way, neither of us accidentally ate the ring."

He lets out a distressed laugh and falls into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. "That's true. It was really expensive."

"You better not have spent your savings on it," you say, voice muffled with your face in his chest.

"Actually, your dad paid for half of it."

You pull back and look at him with furrowed brows. "My dad?"

"Yeah, I talked to him about all of this. And your mom. Your brother gave me a hard time but I like to believe he was joking," he says. "And Kai, who you probably guessed helped me with the ring. Yeonjun was the first person I told, of course, and he did a good job at distracting you while I did all of that."

"Oh," you say, and you try to think back to the past month and all of the times Yeonjun had invited you to hang out with him. You had thought it was just his way of keeping you company while Soobin allegedly stressed about school. "Yeonjun is still a terrible liar, though."

"Yeah," Sooblin laughs. "He is."

Just then, Yeonjun's door squeaks open and he comes out. He's changed into his pajamas and is in the middle of tossing a handful of chips into his mouth. As he's chewing, he says, "I heard my name. Is the food done?"

But as he swallows, his gaze locks in on the two of you, still tangled in each other. You watch as his eyes search between your flushed face and Soobin's tear-stained cheeks.

"Wait," he says. "Did I miss it?"

Soobin gives him a shy smile.

"I missed it!" he pouts. "Soobin, I was supposed to film it. And, you know, see it."

"You can film the wedding," you say, just as Soobin says to Yeonjun, "Do you want me to do it over? 'Cuz it was kind of sloppy and I forgot my whole speech."

"Ah, I missed that? And the look on her face?" Yeonjun just keeps pouting, padding closer to you two. "Bin, she really thought you were going to break up with her. I was seconds away from giving up your secret." As he steps into the kitchen, he peers over the two of you to get a look at the stove. "You didn't even start the jjigae? Wow, man, you really did drop the ball."

Soobin grins down at his feet, shaking his head. When he looks back up at you, you mouth, "I love you."

"I love you," he mouths back, his smile spreading to show his dimples again, and that's really all you needed.

The night may not have gone according to Soobin's plans, but it was perfect. So utterly perfect.