#updates to this post shall be rebloged when i get to next chapters

[venelona]

Write My Report author notes

Today is one year since I first posted my Dazatsu fic 'Write My Report' (PM Dazai x PM Atsushi, Atsushi works as Dazai's secretary), so as I edit through all 100k+ words of it, I bring you author notes - include my favourite things about the chapters, thoughts behind some moments and fun (?) facts.

!SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE FANFIC!

(fanfic quotes will be in italics, bold italics are just the words that were italics in the quote- it makes sense- i promise-)

Starting with, of course,

Chapter 1:

I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

I think the whole premise of the fanfic was born by that one time Dazai asks Atsushi to write his report for him after Dazai returns from his mafia kidnapping. Second half of the plot with him helping Atsushi conceal his tiger ability was an excuse for them to hold hands every full moon. I thought it would be a shortcut to my beloved 'one bed' trope. And then it didn't shortcut shit because I slow burned the hell out of it

'Great - now he was alive and uncomfortably wet.'

"I… I- I can't believe I'm going to get fired because of a guy who wanted to drown himself over paperwork." - Sweet sweet irony 😌 You want Dazai to live, Atsushi? Get to paperwork then

I never described Atsushi's waiter uniform but this is kind of how I imagined it looking. No I don't have explanations. Literally just 'the vision.'

I guess I never described Atsushi's secretary clothes, tho it's been referenced that he has a jacket. Its also drawn on the cover lol

'He briefly contemplated drowning himself, but he didn't want his last day to be so full of Chuuya, so he decided on another kind of drink tonight.'

Dazai mercelessly shooting the guy in the bar who saw Atsushi transform was one of the things that were supposed to back up that 'Dark Dazai' tag. And then I kinda forgot to make him do more evil things later on lol He kills more people but more off screen and I kinda fumbled that tag ngl

COOL FANART COOL FANART LOOK AT THE COOL FANART something made me hate that scene but then zinder came in and made me love it 😭💖💖💖

'"Ah, you're awake." A vaguely familiar voice called from the doorway.' They caught Atsushi trying to cross the boarder-

The section where Dazai explains Atsushi about how he's the tiger and offers the deal is the only section where one POV breaks and you can see the other, but I decided to keep it. It was written this way because I didn't plan on keeping their POVs very separate, but then they never broke again lol

"Close your mouth, Atsushi, I already saw plenty of your fangs today."

Atsushi never, for even one second, regretting helping Dazai and saying so to him every time 😭🙏

I love writing canon moments altered by whatever the premise of the fic is - in this case, PM Dazai and Atsushi. Canon parallels - Dazai blackmailing Atsushi into the job.

Never really described but Dazai's office is on the first floor in part of it where not a lot of people pass by. All executives have more proper offices but Dazai really just took a room he didn't need a lot of time to get to. That makes Atsushi's work a bit annoying because most mafia clerks work on other floors together and he alone gotta run back and forth

It probably shows but I know nothing of the ways of office paperworks

"Eh, you're doing fiiine." His employer waved from the couch. "You're doing a way better job than I ever did, Atsushi." "How?.." "You're looking at the papers." Dazai smirked. "That's more than I usually do."

Initially one big point of conflict was supposed to be that Dazai holds a very high position in the mafia, so the papers he handles is full of very valuable information. And the fact that he let Atsushi into all of that information gives Atsushi some degree of power in the mafia, but also makes him a target for others... and then this never really came up lol

I don't think this was ever outright stated but Dazai's apartment is on a very high floor - not last one, but still high up. Like, twenty or something. The whole building inhabited by mafia workers, but he's really the only big fish in it

"I can't just make something up! Besides, from the amount of complaining notes-" Atsushi pointed at the hefty pile of papers Dazai was sitting right next to. "People do read your reports." "Oh, you actually read these?" Dazai picked up a few papers from that stack. "I usually just throw them away." "It's not even all of them?!" "Oh, it's probably just from the last three days."

Dazai saying 'Chuuya probably wrote half of the complaints and that's why I am not reading them' is just an excuse. He's just too lazy to read them

Something about Chuuya being described as 'The hat man' is sending me

[Dazai and Chuuya] '"When was the last time I made a wrong decision, hm?" "I don't know, yesterday? In the morning? Five minutes ago?"'

'"Atsushi, you should visit more places." Dazai shook his head. "Do you even go anywhere on your days off?" "I don't have days off." Atsushi blinked at him. Dazai blinked back. "Really?" "You never told me I have any."' - Atsushi never even asking if he has off days for like two weeks 😭 He'd work without them too, that poor man. Dazai gave him Thursday off because that was the only day Dazai himself actually occupied his office before he hired Atsushi. Dazai was fine without an office (he'd find a place to laze around), but people were complaining that he's hard to find when someone wanted to talk to him, and so he told everyone he can be found on Thursdays. After he hired Atsushi he started spending like 50% more of his time in the office because when he wanted to laze around he was like 'might as well do it in the office, I can occupy the couch, I am not alone and people will shout at me less and even praise me for being at work)

'Atsushi shook his head again. He needed to distract himself. "So… that was Akutagawa, huh?" That was probably the worst topic he could've picked for a distraction, but anxiety hasn't let him think of any other at the moment.'

Never elaborated on but in this story other executives have a lot of people that are under their command specifically. Dazai still orders people around and gives them work and stuff, but the only person he hired himself before Atsushi was Akutagawa. So that's why Atsushi is kind of treated like a big deal by other mafia members. Also half the reason why Akutagawa was angry at his existence

Dazai telling Atsushi 'I think you and Akutagawa would work great together' was a nod to New Double Black. He was still envisioning it in his mind even though Atsushi was working as his secretary and didn't use his ability at all, but later on when he started caring for Atsushi he kind of waved that idea off because he didn't want Atsushi using his ability at all

'"Atsushi, I didn't give you a day off today so you could spend it calling me at eight in the morning."'

If you're wandering why I always juggle how I call Dazai (the brunet/the mafioso/the bandaged man) and others is because in school during language lessons one lesson that stuck to me was that you can't use the same word in two sentences in a row, or it'll sound bad. So half my writing comes from me trying to juggle the same words back and forth. h e l p

Never described but I like to imagine that Dazai got panorama windows in his living room. I never stated this because I don't think he would - something like that would up the chances of his enemies finding where he lives and Dazai wouldn't bother risking that. But... that's what my cinematic imagination wants

'"If you planned on holding hands all night, I regret to inform you that I have no habits of flirting with men."' - canon parallel + THAT WAS THE PREMISE OF THE FIC AND I BARELY DID IT 😭😭😭

'"Or you wanted to watch me sleep the whole night? I didn't think you were such a pervert, Atsushi."' - a set up for a joke in chapter 6. Yes. I thought of that stupid joke this far back.

'And, he supposed, watching Atsushi struggle with the paperwork made it a teensy bit more enjoyable to do. By which he meant it was still a nightmare and he'd rather throw himself off this very building than work on it, but still. A little bit more enjoyable.'

I got SO many comments on SO many chapters about 'when Atsushi will tell Dazai about his tragic past'. Either they missed the 'Probably had to do with that orphanage he talked about earlier, but Dazai didn't care for sob stories about the past.' line, or wanted something more- Dazai KNEW, he connected the dots, he just didn't care back then

Dazai was supposed not to care for Atsushi in these earlier stages but I kind of fumbled it and made him too caring a bit too quickly but. Whatever can you do.

[melodygatesauthor]

Sick of people asking me "when", and I'm gonna talk about it...

If you aren't in the headspace for a post more on the "negative" side then don't read this, but I need to say something about this before I lose my fucking MIND.

The entitlement coming from some of my readers has GOT to fucking stop, and I'm so goddamn serious right now. You have me at my fucking limit on what's supposed to be a fun hobby. So here's what's happening, and I'm not going to be nice about it because I'm so fed up I want to cry:

Over the last few days, I've woken up to messages in my inbox that are all being demanding, entitled, and downright fucking RUDE. Some of you saying you're "disappointed" that I haven't updated certain stories or just saying "where is the next update for x story". Fuck the FUCK off okay? (This is in NO WAY directed at the majority of my readers. The majority of you, fortunately, are very kind and leave me such nice comments and I love you *forehead kiss*)

---

First of all, don't you think that if I had the update ready I would post it?

I don't get paid for this (a point that I will be touching on more later, don't you worry.) so my "payment" is the gratification I get from reblogs and comments. If I don't post, I don't get "paid." So just know that I want to post my stories as much as you want to read them. I think I speak for most writers when I say that. I'm not a fucking dragon hording my fucking stories and chapters in google docs and laughing while you all suffer. I have the stories in my head and I'm crying while I suffer because I don't have enough time to get them all out onto paper before you all start turning into nasty little gremlins over them.

Secondly, you demanding asking for more is not encouraging, nor is it motivational.

Again, I think I'm speaking for most writers with this. When you demand or ask for more, THE ONLY THING *taps megaphone* THE ONLY THING you're doing is reminding the writer that they haven't updated and it gives us a little pit in our tummies at our "failures". (a little note to my fellow writers reading this, you're not a failure, but I know it can feel like that when people come into your inbox like this, despite it not being true). "HoW dO i MoTiVaTe A wRiTeR tO uPdAtE mY fAvOrItE sToRy ThEn?" Well you entitled asshole, I'm SO FUCKING GLAD YOU ASKED. (Because that brings me to my next point).

Third, I'd be willing to put the $200 in my savings account and the change at the bottom of my purse on the fact that YOU HAVEN'T EVEN REBLOGGED MY STORIES.

Sorry, feeling called out? Fucking GOOD. I hope your pillows are warm and moist af on both sides when you're trying to sleep because literally if you're coming into my inbox, acting like THIS and then you have the AUDACITY to not even reblog my work? You're one of the worst kinds of people and I wish you nothing but the worst. It's the ONLY thing I ask for in response to my hard work and I'm sure you can't even manage that. You should be embarrassed.

Fourth, let's talk about how much money I make doing this shall we?

$0...I make ZERO DOLLARS and you are talking to me with more of an attitude and entitlement than a Karen in a fucking grocery store during Covid. Get a grip bro. Wanna start paying my bills so I can write fanfiction full time? DO IT, and THEN we can chat about WHEN something isn't getting updated or WHY it didn't get updated. Until then, shut your fucking mouth and enjoy what I put out, or get off my page. I don't care anymore, I'm so done being nice about this.

Fifth, I LITERALLY UPDATE YOU ALL WEEKLY TO LET YOU KNOW WHEN THE FUCK I'LL BE UPDATING WHAT THE HELL!!!!

With the exception of this past week because I've been so goddamn busy, I post a WEEKLY update letting my readers know when I'll be updating something. I have a busy work schedule, and it's summer, so there are lots of things going on in my life right now. I try to help mitigate the questions you have about "when" and "why" by doing this. What makes me annoyed is that you all seem to be on my page, noticing that I'm not updating and getting upset about that, but you don't take the time to look at the fucking information I put out in your face to avoid having to answer the same questions ten fucking times. Omg and for the love of god FOLLOW @melodygatesupdates FOLLOW THAT BLOG RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME. If I have ONE MORE person ask me about my tag list after reading a fic that says "I don't have a taglist anymore so follow @melodygatesupdates" I'm going to lose it.

So here's a blanket statement as to "why" I haven't posted whatever chapter or story you've been waiting for. Pick one of the options below because either one or more are accurate.

I'm working too many hours to have time for updating regularly so am only working on fics that are currently inspiring to me.

Another Adderall shortage so I'm having a hard time focusing.

I don't feel like it today, and despite what you may think, that's a perfectly valid reason not to write something.

I'm working on something else.

Something bad happened in my personal life.

My personal life got busy.

Going forward, for my own sanity, I'm no longer entertaining questions about "why" I haven't updated or "when" I plan to update something. 9 times out of 10 I'll let you know if something is going to be delayed or if it's not in my current scope of interest, but otherwise, just don't ask.

If you're nice when you ask, I'll probably just ignore you and delete your inbox ask. I feel bad doing that to those of you who are kind when you ask, but I just can't take it anymore, especially when I'm telling you right now that you don't need to ask me.

For those who come in hot like "why haven't you..." or "When are you going to..." I'm blocking you. Consider this a warning. Even if you come in on anon, you can still be blocked and I won't fucking hesitate. Learn some manners and then come talk to me, but until then I'm not going to entertain this behavior any longer.

I'm a grown woman in her thirties just trying to pass the time with something I enjoy, and waking up to this every morning over the last few days while working 60+ hours a week fucking sucks. So for my own mental health, I have to start putting my foot down. You're ruining my online experience and making this less fun for me.

Thanks for reading, I love those of you who read this whole thing and who AREN'T the people this post is meant for. You're the real MVPs.

[phxntomhives]

Welcome to my sideblog

That has most likely become my main one. But idk how to change main and second one. So yeah. So if you see @phxntomhives-98 it's still me. I just don't know why sometimes I can't switch accounts and sometimes I can.

I will try to keep this blog mostly related to Kuroshitsuji and twst but who knows what I will like next. From memes (mostly repost because I am not that funny) to theories you can find anything here.

I am not spoiler free BUT I try my best to protect the new fans and hide things under the cut. Unfortunately, I am human, so you may run into spoilers, I am truly sorry.

I am 25, she/her pronouns, INTP. I would love to get to know more people in the fandoms I am in, but eeeh my social skills are lacking. So feel free to hit my dms, I don't bite I promise. I am trying to make more moots/mutuals pls

Here most thing you can find me posting about/comments etc (under the cut because it became long ops)

Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

Sebaciel shippers do not interact. I will just block and move on. If you see me liking one post tagged like that it's because I am stupid and I don't always read the tags, pls let me know and I will fix the problem.

Now that the important part is over: I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEW SEASON AAH. The Weston College arc is my favourite so I am very happy and it feels so nice to see my children here :3

I am up to date with the manga as well, so if you need to cry with someone, I am here. Sobbing.

My fave is Ciel, and Lizzie slander shall not be tolerated (half joking, you are free to dislike her but I am ready to fight at any time to defend her).

A couple of things you may want to check? If you are bored???

New manga chapter comments under: #Phxntomhives Kuro manga yapping

Analysis/theories

"The Parade of Battlers" song analysis

Finny grew up (chapter 211 spoilers)

Short analysis of the GFantasy May cover

The unlucky fate of the P4

Silly theory of the cricket's ending dance

Edgar sure is very much unlucky when it comes to life decision...

About Lizzie's anger (reblog theory)

Chapter 209 crack theory (to welcome denial)

Short analysis of Bluewer talking to Ciel during the Midnight party (from a reblog)

Short analysis of Undertaker's GFantasy cover

Headcanons

P4 headcanons

My kuro AU, kuro AU pt 2

Gregory scream headcanons (kind of angst)

Pandora Hearts

Very new to the fandom and I understood like half of it. Anyway it's beautiful and you all should read it! Come cry with me!

Here some fresh thoughts after I read the last chapter

Headcanon to hurt my soul

Vanitas no carte/The case study of Vanitas

Up to date with both anime and manga! And not so patiently waiting for each update. I miss them, I hope for a new chapter soon.

Twisted Wonderland (JP SERVER)

Up to date with main story and eons behind with the events ops. No I do not know japanese, tho I am trying to learn, but I started the game when that was the only version avaiable and I will not start again on eng server sorry. (Technically I have started but I had no more space on my phone and one had to go)

If you are curious about what I think about the story check #phxntomhives twst yapping (because I plan to type a lot and refuse to keep updating this list it's supposed to be pretty after all)

Theories

Events are canon. Part 2: wish upon a star.

Silver gets a title copium.

Tokyo Aliens

READ IT LEGALLY. FOR FREE. HERE I TELL YOU HOW.

WHY IS THERE NO FANDOM IT'S SUCH A NICE STORY. PLEASE GIVE IT A CHANCE.

I AM LIVING OF HALF A POST AND FANMADE TRANSLATION. HELP.

Parallels between Tokyo Aliens and Negai no Astro

Spoiler/Analysis from scans: chapter 41, chapter 42, chapter 43, chapter 44, chapter 45, chapter 46, chapter 47, chapter 48, chapter 49, chapter 50 (After I added these I basically took over the tags plsssss)

Dr stone

It's appearing more on my feed so I had the feeling I had to add this lol. I love it dearly, I finished the manga and I need to catch up with the anime. I am extremely worried about the rumored (?) new volume that is coming ngl

Negai no Astro

Damn, I am hooked.

Parallels between Tokyo Aliens and Negai no Astro

Aaand honestly many more, feel free to ask! If it helps, here is my not updated because it takes forever MyAnimeList! But I probably missed many of them so really, just come and ask.

I may drop some suggestions to read too sometimes, here they are

Suggestions for you <3

Why you should read Merry Marbling

If you like Negai no Astro or Tokyo Aliens PLEASE CHECK THE OTHER SERIE MENTIONED.

[oldfashionedmorphine]

Heeeeeeeey! Here from the reblog about fic thingie! Moot, tell me about your fics, wips or finished. Anything you wished you added in? News about alcoholic Mike perhaps? I'm ready for it all! 😄🤭😃🥰😘😆😁

i love how i reblog these things then take days to reply—sorry friend!!

so um, as you know this has been a horrible writing year for me and i’m still trying to get through my writing slump (june-august was probably the best it’s been for me since january) but anyway—

i wrote about 15k words last month (which is about my typical average for a month of writing when i’m not in a slump) for that big bang story that i ultimately had to shelf (i told you about it, so you know the story i’m referring to, but i’m gonna keep it confidential on main cause i’m hoping to try using that story again next year….we shall see how that goes, haha) and now i’m back to writing for iawwyh (and let me say, it’s been two years since i started writing this story, so i’m determined to finish it before picking another wip back up!! 😬) but it’s not been smooth sailing since i started working on this story again…..i think i’m just having a hard time with finishing it up and being all worried the ending will not be good—people have said so many wonderful things about this story and i’m like….gosh, i hope i don’t let people down, you know? 😔

i’m currently working on getting mike through the hospital and then his subsequent recovery—so far it’s looking like i predicted in my outline and will be only another 3-5 chapters and then the epilogue. oh and i’m not posting any more chapters until the story is done…i can’t stand the idea of getting stuck in another writer’s block and leaving people hanging for months (it’s been 9 months since i last updated—yikes!) i’d rather have people wait longer for chapter 23 than do that again…..oh and i keep getting distracted with editing old chapters 😭😭😭 and so far i don’t think there’s anything i wish i added? or at least nothing i regret not keeping that didn’t make it into the story (at least i don’t think)

but honestly i can’t believe it’s almost over even though i feel like i should’ve been done writing this thing a year ago 😭

[procrastinatinglumi]

I posted 106 times in 2022

That's 106 more posts than 2021!

38 posts created (36%)

68 posts reblogged (64%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lumi-procrastinate

@anovainspace

@procrastinatinglumi

@spiritmdraws

@earthtonova

I tagged 80 of my posts in 2022

Only 25% of my posts had no tags

#memory!sans - 35 posts

#memorytale - 22 posts

#undertale alternate universe - 21 posts

#alternate universe - 17 posts

#sans au - 17 posts

#sans oc - 16 posts

#undertale au - 14 posts

#utmv - 6 posts

#rebloop - 6 posts

#ask response - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 84 characters

#my parents legit laughed at me when i proposed the idea of me being an artist/writer

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

WOOOO I'VE DONE SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE FOR THE DAY!

I love how his costume turned out, he makes one cute birb

Da reference:

See the full post

15 notes - Posted October 31, 2022

#4

Just remembered that I asked @anovainspace the height for XXX!Sans and XXX!Frisk and why I asked that in the first place. I was finally inspired enough to doodle my scrunklie alongside them.

See the full post

16 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

#3

Memorytale-Chapter 0: Script Sickness

Will be (hopefully not so) slowly updating this. I sorta got caught up with high school but this comic shall be ongoing. Sorry about that and hope you'll enjoy¡

See the full post

19 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

#2

Urmm a little warning to those who comes to my blog, I'm currently developing memorytale and quite obsessed with it tbh. But I may post other things (maybe).

Introducing memory!Sans. A childlike being who can't meet the height requirements to be called an "adult" (p.s.: he's 11 inches shorter than classic). More about his personality and AU on the next post.

His AU is called memorytale (which probably has already been taken, feel free to contact me if you want to discuss it) and here I am being ever so creative to call him memory.

He himself doesn't acknowledge other universes which leads him to not even care about his own name, he usually just let the stranger decide a name for him.

21 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I got bored as well; so have my baby!

Memory: :> hoi!!

Dusk 410 and a challenge by @sereandtheskelefamily

21 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 154

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

I was able to get the Master Post cleaned up this morning.  I know there is a reblog going around with some of the links missing... I put that one up originally as a place holder so I could update my page links in chapters 101 through this one.   I did NOT anticipate it would get immediately reblogged, which made me squeak in pleasant surprise.  I’ll reblog the full post so everyone has the right one.

Also, thanks to @baelpenrose, @the-raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog for keeping me going and all your help beta-reading and checking my links.  You three are the real heroes here!

“The quiet rooms are done,” Hannah yawned the next morning. “It’s a good thing we decided to make them available immediately, because the first one had people scheduling time before we finished the second one.”

“How many did we end up with?” I asked, pushing down my own urge to yawn. I had always prided myself on being able to resist the urge to yawn when others did, and I wasn’t letting that stop now.

The model of the Ark came up on the table emitter, and Hannah zoomed in on the highlighted areas. “Right now, we have twelve, just like you set up for the second Food Festival. But I’ll be honest, they rooms are already booked for the foreseeable future, and I don’t think that’s tenable.”

“Agreed. I’ll talk to the rest of the Council, but at this point, we need to see about setting all available spaces for quiet rooms.” I nodded and added that note to my agenda. “Moving on, food vendors being allowed in BioLab2. Any updates?”

Parvati flicked the data to everyone. “Grey isn’t thrilled with the possibility that the food will contaminate the aquatics, but is willing to allow vendors in ‘The Fairy Circle’?” She gave me a questioning look. “They said you would know what that meant.”

I just smiled and shook my head. “It’s where I go camping. Conor managed to pull off a prank that fooled even Charly and made a Faerie circle.  It’s a good choice, though: ten, eleven feet across, accessible, and far enough from the water that there wouldn’t be any risk.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Credit to Conor on that one. But, Grey was very enthusiastic about the idea of setting up some picnic tables throughout the woods and letting people bring picnics.”

“I already have some vendors on board, there,” I breathed in relief. “Especially the ones who specialize in the type of foods that lend themselves well to being portable.”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Do we get to taste test some of these? I’m really getting some bento box and pasty vibes from what you just said, and I’m not sure which I’m more excited about.”

“I think I can get that to happen,” I laughed. “I wouldn’t mind trying some of the options myself, but I can at least already confirm that all bases are covered for dietary requirements. Next up, where are we on the holiday date?”

“Still working with the other departments to finalize a date where all projects can be completed, paused, or at least at a point where they don’t require direct observation. Everyone is on board, though.”

“That’s the biggest hurdle,” I confirmed. “Means we can proceed with at least putting the rest of the events together in preparation for the final date. I trust you two in handling the party aspect of it, and Charly is already working Bash on another Kink Night event at the Undine - minimal planning needed there. So, let’s figure out who is coordinating the paint-tag fight, and we can loop back to the plans for the party.”

“While I am entirely sure Charly can handle planning for both the paint tag and the other - seeing as both were her ideas - it doesn’t feel fair to leave them both entirely on her shoulders,” Hannah agreed. “It says here that you already had Conor confirm we missed Holi?

“By about six months,” I confessed. “So we’re pretty much both too late and too early.”

“I do believe the arrows would be frowned upon, in any event,” Parvati joked. “I still have her paint formulas - flavors are not listed, but there is a distinct lack of both black and yellow.”

“Those were… scotch bonnet for the black, I know that one. I think the yellow was gochujang, which would still hurt if you got it in your eyes,” I recalled.

She flicked her hands, bracelets chiming. “I will ask for a new formula for yellow, but I think we can live without black paint. The yellow was lovely, though.”

“Ask nicely, and she’ll probably give you the glitter formula colors, which I think are different flavors from the regular palette,” I suggested. “And the glitter is ultra-violet reactive, so that’ll be fun.”

Emphatic stabbing at her datapad ensued - impressive, because it wasn’t even physically there, just emitted from the band on her wrist. “Once I have those, I believe Hannah and I can coordinate that along with the party.  There is no food component, it is only for one day, so the scope is far smaller than the Festival was.”

“And besides,” Hannah added with a shrug, “whip up some paints and some spongy balls to soak it up, set boundaries, invite anyone who wants to attend. Planning done.” She dusted her hands off for emphasis, but she had a point.

“I’ve got the care packages well underway, so we’re solid there. The party. What’s the plan there?”

Parvati dismissed the schematic from the table emitter and sent a different image to it. This one was practically the opposite of what I had expected: where I had anticipated Food Festival 2: Pyrotechnic Boogaloo, I was instead looking at a park that I was reasonably certain only existed in dreams.

Soft green grass that my toes wiggled to touch spanned a rolling, looping thoroughfare. Trees arched overhead like an arbor, and were either woven with lights are absolutely covered in fireflies.  Between breaks in the canopy, a night sky filled with more stars than I had seen in my living memory.  Here and there small braziers burned brightly with fire, resting on sturdy rugs and dotted around with cushions.

“Vati,” I whispered hoarsely. “We can’t use BioLab2 for this, can we? Will Grey allow it?”

“We can, and they are.” Her smile was the feral one that usually preceded a coup de grace of event planning. “This, however, is not BioLab2.  This is the corridors of levels twelve through fourteen, leading into the lab.”

My first urge was to guess what she was planning, but my mind came up blank. I circled around my desk to stand closer to the table. “Okay, talk to me. Make it make sense.”

She nodded. “The grass is real, laid down like sod. The terraforming teams have agreed to let us use it, provided we allow them to collect data on how it holds up to so much foot traffic and include a post-event question regarding the tactile feel on bare feet.  So, bare feet they shall have.” She winked when I realized she and Hannah were going to make it part of the theme. “The trees are an illusion, simple light emitters against the corridor walls, combined with the existing texture of the surface.”

When she moved the image to mimic walking further down the path, Hannah picked up. “The larger spaces are actually where the corridors are longer between quiet rooms. Rather than trying to pull off the tree illusion, we’re going to create a  night sky with shooting stars, comets, the works.  Like a dream.”

“I like it. It’s not what I was expecting, but I’m even more impressed for that.”

“We couldn’t compete with Charly,” Parvati confessed. “She is already going to have our base desires covered.  Anything we tried to do would look like a pale imitation. So, we went the other direction: What else do we do to feel alive?”

“We dream,” I laughed. “It’s all a fairy tale dream, isn’t it?”

“That’s the goal,” Hannah confirmed. “A beautiful dream. One day and one night where you can live out your humanity however you want, without having to compromise.  If someone wants to throw paint with childish abandon, then stroll and dance through a dream, and finish the night at the Undine trying something they never dared to do before, they can do that.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds decadent.”

“I was going for hedonistic, over all, but you’re on the right track,” Parvati laughed. “Hannah and I agreed that everyone on the Ark needed one perfect day.  And since perfect is different for everyone…” She shrugged. “We just decided to give them all the options.  The quiet rooms will be open if their perfect includes a botanical garden, or a cloud… the mess halls will be open if it means a feast, or even just decadent hors d'oeuvres they could never make an excuse to try. It’s literally all on the table.”

“Consider it signed off on.” I still couldn’t take my eyes off that grass, toes wiggling happily. “Just let me know the date when we have one, I need a pedicure to enjoy this completely.”

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[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 11

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

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

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

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

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

All the best!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goblinese??”

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

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

“Can I learn goblinese?” She asked eagerly.

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

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

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

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

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

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

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

“Princess.” He greeted her cheerily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

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

….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“... Grier…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Niko?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chickadee, you shouldn’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Niiikoo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“... I haven’t been here very long.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

“It’s not quite-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I miss you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

....

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

“Niko! NikoNikoNikoNikoNIKO!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chickad-” I tried to start again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A-aah… B-but Morgana-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m getting Hibik.”

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

I didn’t linger a moment longer, spinning and practically running to the hall. The door wasn’t even fully open before I was shouting for the older goblin…

...

UPDATE: Part Twelve HERE

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Sinners in a Pod (Chapter 1)

Updates for this will start posting after Witcher of the Night is finished. So, chapter 1 for this will only be posted right now and shall continue its updates soon. Currently, this is on hiatus. But, please do tell me what you think if you manage to read this! Thank you! 💞

PROLOGUE (Summary)

Characters:  Mob/Professor!Henry Cavill x small!stalker!reader (AU)

Warnings: 18+ Blood. Death. Psychopathic issues. The Mafia. Suggestive content and thinking. Stalker and manipulative reader. The word ‘Daddy’ used in different ways? (I don’t even know why this is a warning?) Y/L/N means Your Last Name. 

Words: 6.3k

A/N: Il babbo means Father and il compagno means comrade. Tell me if I’m wrong, I’m using google translate on this one. Sorry, if I’m making this on a hiatus. I wanna see how this will click for anyone. Also, the Geralt fic comes first because I wanna finish it. Hehehehe.

TAGLIST WILL BE OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! (I hope you would, bb!) IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

9:35 AM.

Mr. Cavill has been well-known in just his first day of becoming the substitute for your previous professor who has died due to an infectious disease that still had no cure. He has been the main topic of every person in the campus. Your professor in History was a complete hot-shot. An additional fact about him being attractive was his unconventional pedagogic style that can get students listening to every word that leaves his mouth, leaving you all wanting to hear more than just his educational discussions.

His presence definitely aroused each and every women's curiosity in your campus; hearing gossips about how they were willing to be the teacher's pet to have a piece of what your professor could offer like he was being treated as a play thing or some sort of food that they wanted to have a taste despite of how indecent it sounded. The hungry felines were willing and taking their chances, seeming to want and do it to also save their grades from their previous quizzes and special tests that they have taken from the deceased professor.

Until, You started to realized that you were even included in one of those students who was thoroughly affected by his presence; lately comprehending that he was being the main image of your filthy fantasies every night.

Especially whenever you notice how he tries to keep eye contact with you whenever he discusses. Your best friend can see how he kept on taking secretive glimpses without anyone noticing. Nonetheless, one person did and he was unlucky to have been caught by your best friend who promised to never lie and keep secrets when it involves you.

Though, there are certain situations that should be kept from her. Specifically the part about what happens every night with the idea of your professor fucking you like he'd never want you to walk for seven days straight.

That kind of fucking where you both can be considered as animals in a rut.

It took one look from your best friend to know that he was staring again. You could imagine his piercing ocean blue eyes that had a speck of brown drowning with it; observing every breath and move you make under those black spectacles of his. Curly hair gelled back looking professional but so tempting to be yanked hard.

You suddenly shook your head at the thought, blinking hard while you tried to keep focus on your paper.

Your best friend was done with her pre-test, but you weren't. She kept on silently but repeatedly snapping her fingers under her desk, giving you a signal that he was doing it again. You tried hard ignoring your best friend who was just clearly beside you; bringing you into a much more dangerous scenario by having your test incomplete or rather receiving a failing grade that would make you repeat this subject again.

Then, you'd remember the professor who could get you writhing under his gaze. He was also one of your fantasies---the one and only who could get you off every night---though, leaving you insatiable and craving for more.

Immodest thinking, but it was worth it every time you came.

"Daddy's lookin' again, hunny! Oh, teach me your ways, please! I would so let him fuck my ass raw, I tell you," She whisper-yelled knowingly. Only silence can be heard from around the four corners of the room, constant pages being flipped one by one, triggering you into panicking more than you should because you were still stuck on page one. You eyed the multiple choice that was written. 'Is it A? B? Or C?'

Your eyes narrowed on your test paper, struggling to think of an answer for the last question of the first page. The pen in your hand stopped on letter B, and in one quick motion. You encircled the whole letter before turning to the next page in a jiffy, never thinking whether your answer was right or wrong.

A small creak from your best friend's chair caught your attention, half on the test and half on your noisy best friend; seeming to be the person who was asking you answers when you haven't even finished the damned test yet.

"Psst! Bitch!"

You've sighed an exasperated one from being constantly distracted by everyone and especially from the penetrating gaze you could feel whenever Mr. Cavill tries to check on how everyone was doing from his desk.

"Ms. Rodriguez, I would rather like it if you try and keep your hands on your desk when you're done with the test,"

All together, the whole class turned their heads towards your best friend who had a panicking, shocked look written on her face. Her eyes seeming to tell she was guilty of trying to distract you while you answer the paper at hand. She evidently gulped, nodding silently and tentatively slipping her palms across her desk like a child getting a scolding. Embarrassment filling her body, the paper beneath her hands appearing to be more interesting rather than the gossip she ought to tell.

Mr. Cavill looked to be insouciant from her tricks, His eyes completely blank, cochineal lips forming a thin line from what he had in mind, "You all have thirty minutes left," the suave and sophisticated twang of his accent got you shifting in your seat. His baritone timbre that kept you up every night; never failing to give your core a throb whenever you get to listen to it personally rather than imagining it had you fidgeting with the sharp ends of your test paper.

He leaned back in his seat, the obvious bulk in his arms protruding once it was crossed. Your professor had always wore that extra tight, white dress shirt despite how it was popping out due to his sinewy biceps. The thatch of his chest hair slipping above the second to the last button of his clothing. You knew he was jacked in the flesh, the filament of his muscles straining out of his clothing which gives you images of what he could be like when he was stark-naked.

You had a bad habit of daydreaming in the wrong time.

Those Lapis Lazuli were brilliant under the morning sunlight that was escaping through the windows. Those eyes that you've been able to memorize landed on you, a sudden jolt in your insides made you feel warm and tingly.

"Please, do finish the test before the time is up, Students."

You were the first to break his gaze, the papers were an important matter and you didn't want to fail. Reason to that is because you didn't want to disappoint him by giving him a result that could make him think that you were never actually have been listening to his lessons and have just been daydreaming about his pretty little mouth on yours every day.

It was illicit of you to even think about having his mouth on yours or all over your body, exploring you till his curiosity would be answered and the same goes to yours. The devil was probably grinning in hell because of how risquè your thoughts have been.

Your soul was probably going to burn in hell.

Yet, on second thought; all seemed to be worth it.

Especially when you've been trying to stalk him for about two weeks already.

You haven't been caught yet; but, the idea of being collared seem to be a prize when you were a sinner.

10:05 AM.

"Time's up, everyone." Mr. Cavill's smooth, reverberant voice made you jump in your seat. You were only on the third page of your test and there were three pages left. The sheer frustration went to your head, emitting a vocal groan and a hard bite on your dried up lips. Every loud beat of your heart made your hand tremble in panic. Your eyes skimmed through every question, randomly circling any letter as long as you get to finish the damn test and not be left alone. Despite how anxious it made you feel, deep inside; you knew you were anticipating such a moment.

"Its time to pass your papers. Get your bags and you can go, I'll be seeing you guys tomorrow," He spoke in a monotone manner, his chair creaking once he stood up tall and lusty, grabbing onto the pile of papers, neatly stocking every test one by one with those hefty, streaking fingers of his as each student passed by in front of him. Some women slyly sparing him a glance, trying to check him out and that outstanding derriere of his as they smirked and quietly giggled on their way out.

Your tall, lanky but quite fit block mate stood along the threshold. His bright hazel eyes, tanned skin and dark red lips drawn with a grin as he held onto nothing but his pen; known to be a nerd but also a philanderer who had innocuous looks that appeared to be like he spends his time nose diving in games and books, "Have a great day, Mr. Cavill!"

"You too, Brent."

You could feel your breath shortening, grappling to answer your test urgently. Your breath hitched when somebody tapped your shoulder, you turned to look at the person you were expecting, but was left disappointed when you saw your best friend eyeing your papers; scrutinizing everything inside her head.

"Oh, you're doomed, Y/N." She inspected your answers and observed how her brows raise in an uncanny way, obtrusively telling that your answers were beyond incorrect. There were still students inside the room, slowly taking their time to leave before undergoing another set of lessons to be learned soon from their other professors.

"---I'll get going now, see you later, Chiquitita!"

She didn't even gave you a chance to ask some answers to your tests. What are friends even for?

Once the door was shut by her and others who left one by one, it was like every blood in your veins stopped cycling. No noise could be heard. You could feel an intense pair of ocean blue eyes began shooting you holes through your body that gave you the shivers.

Now, it was just you, him and nobody else.

You mentally gave yourself a slap for not reviewing for his test. It was quite embarrassing for him to see how you were struggling for a test that was undoubtedly easy for everyone.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Your professor started completely unfazed by your endeavor to get the test done in a minute. You breathed out a breath in utter frustration, closing your eyes and capping your pen closed. The time was up.

A large, warm hand gently clasped your shoulder, and you were sure you felt the imaginary sparks from it that also held a flush of shivers, creating a reaction that made your whole body go rigid.

"---Don't rush, you have all the time." Mr. Cavill surprisingly spoke in his calm, low voice. Warm, comforting heat gathered in a close proximity and before you could even realize what was happening; he was already hovering from behind, checking your answers for you.

His breathtaking face were inches away from you, his perfect side profile seen from your peripheral vision and his spectacles slightly falling on his tall, pointy nose. The dimple on his nose winsome for your taste and for every thirsty felines as well. Eyelashes long that can be considered as pretty, an exact length to beautify his eyes a lot more than it would. There was something mysterious about what lies beneath his bright azure eyes. Something dark was laying deep inside of it but it was a locked up window that nobody could ever get to see and understand.

Something about him was making you more intrigued for what his lifestyle is and the more curious you are, the more you were getting yourself at risk. Deeper. Intrusive. You were going to risk it all.

The deep scar on the top of his right eye brow distracted you from thinking anymore else. It looked like a battle scar that he once got from a fight, and it was quite interesting to see such a perfect face that held a flaw; telling you he was actually human after all and not a prince in your dreams.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I suppose you never listen to any of my lessons, am I correct?"

Oh, the way he says your last name always made you sin. Heat traveled towards your face, and some even had the audacity to travel down south. It was wrong.

You had to stop.

"I-I..I do, Sir." You struggled to keep your mind straight. Your eyes stared straight at the whiteboard in front of you, never giving him a glance.

Those heavy gaze of his fell on you; piercing and utterly inquisitive; giving your heart a chance to leave the curiosity before he would want to pry a lot about you that you couldn't imagine him to know, you could feel the disappointment within his eyes that crushed your hopes in making him proud.

"All of your answers are incorrect. It seemed like you've been guessing your answers the whole time,"

Shame and guilt was all you felt at that exact moment. The ends of Mr. Cavill's lips formed a tight thin line before languidly curving into a small, sinister smile that he never gave to any of his students. Yet, you were an exception.

"Must I say, do I sound uninteresting for you?"

An excruciating ring of your school bell rang loudly enough for you to jerk on your seat. You couldn't deny the intense attraction you were feeling towards your professor. The windows weren't locked anymore, and you knew for a fact that you've seen the treacherous glint in his eyes; giving you the key for you to decide if you wanted to enter. Deep down something diabolical lived inside and it left you curious enough to dig down whatever hidden darkness it could be.

"I..I.." You anxiously trailed off and stared into his eyes, feeling yourself get enticed by the gorgeous hues around his dark pupils. He was bold enough to stare back, his face too close for your liking.

"You think I don't notice it at all, do you? you're interested---curious even and that curiosity of yours will risk you a lot, sweetheart."

The words that came out of his mouth were utmost accurate, you felt your throat become dry from getting caught red-handed and from how he could read you with his eyes. Your professor was totally unbelievable and you didn't know whether or not he was just too conceited enough to say it straight to your face like it wasn't wrong nor indecent.

"I think...y-you got everything wrong, sir." you quickly scrambled out of your seat, books falling from your hands and you crouched down to get it, yet your professor was faster than you. He gathered those fallen books and stood undeniably tall, placing them on your opened palms. His eyes absolutely unreadable. You couldn't see what his emotions are at the moment, and it was terrifying to see that he looked like a sociopath for one second before playfulness have been replaced within his eyes.

He looked down at you, a small smile on show, "You think? No, Darling,---" Mr. Cavill momentarily paused with a smirk that got you swallowing the uncomfortable, heated feeling down your throat.

"---I know what's running inside those pretty head of yours and I assure you, it can be shameless and utterly unchaste as it can get,"

Without any second thought, you had everything around your arms; running out of the room. Never looking back at your professor who lowly chuckled to himself, seeing how he connected the dots with the right pattern. He knew you would end up walking with the same path as him, together and as one because of how you were hunting him down behind his back.

You were only acting. He could feel it.

Your unfinished paper was left on your desk, the ends of your test so wrinkly from the hard tugs while you tried remembering the right answers to those questions on his test. He remembered your face, he remembers every move you make all day and Henry knew you've been his shadow for the last two weeks like a canine he didn't remember that he has adopted.

Mr. Cavill had your papers at hand. He smiled to himself and with no doubt, he ticked every question correct despite of your wrong answers.

You passed his test and darkness was bound to happen soon.

10:20 PM.

The strange encounter you had with your professor didn't stop your undying attraction towards him, to be honest. It lured you into knowing more about him; becoming selfish to the point of being invasive, secretly following him around to find details about him and his life. All you knew was his name and that he was your History teacher.

William Cavill. That was his name. Other than that, there was nothing you ever did know except for where he lived. In a basic, plain rental apartments where everyone had one gate to begin with. You've noted that in your hidden diary made just for men who'd reach the point of being stalked by yourself. The kind of level where you plan on breaking inside his house to find more information because your lack of knowledge about him was frustrating you from the start.

You would try breaking into his apartment soon enough.

His place wasn't extravagant like how you imagined him to be, owning no car as he walks home and sometimes take public vehicles to arrive in your university like a normal human.

He wasn't rich. Though, his features could mistake him as a prince. Deserving more than to live in a ramshackle apartment.

You've lost track of Mr. Cavill and his whereabouts. One minute you were just following him in discreet, and now he was nowhere to be seen after turning at a sketchy street that made your feet stop from following him.

'Am I turning into a nutjob? No. I'm doing this to know him better, know what he likes or dislikes, knowing more about him that a typical woman would do. This is for the better and he probably will like it if he knew, I need to jot down things that will make him like me,'  You thought to yourself, your feet trembling with every step you took; the brisk, cold wind making it difficult for you to keep steady as you walked through the dark, strange street that your professor just walked in minutes ago.

There was finally light after walking through a dark path; feeling like it could've been a new beginning for your life if you were being metaphoric. You've seen a streetlamp beside a locked up door and a dumpster. It was the only light you could see. From your perspective, the end of the street was a dead end.

You were about to turn around, thinking that this might be a trap for being caught because your professor was no where to be seen. Up until, you've squinted your eyes at two men talking farther away from the lamp, hiding amongst the silhouette of the night sky. One voice quite foreign and the other recognizable by your ears.

The pitter-patters of your feet were stealthy, strolling closer and closer towards danger zone.

"Did the Rossi's hired you?" there was a hint of Italian from the stranger's voice, you managed to move and hide beside the huge dumpster, and it was the right hiding place because you could see and hear everything.

Everything including Mr. Cavill's features. Howbeit, without the black spectacles.

Why was he here and why is he interrogating a man? a man that also seemed familiar to you?

"You just don't know when to shut up, will you?" He curtly spat, the usual calmness whenever he talks in front of his students was now gone and replaced with a very ill-mannered tone. A tone you didn't expect to come out from him because he was pretty much a reserved and refined man.

"I am living a good life by being a professor in St. Hallmark Institute. But, you've come to try and ruin everything,"

"I've never ruined anything in the first place. It was you who made your own destiny. You've told secrets to other people that was meant to be buried deep in the ground, Henry. Finally, I found you---we were all looking for you,"

Henry? who was Henry? All you knew was that his name was 'William Cavill' and not the Henry that he was talking about.

Your hands began trembling with your back against the dumpster, eyes popping out of its eye sockets from all the scenarios happening.

The more you wait, the clamorous and intense their voices have become, "You're a Cavill, yes? I've known that unimpeachable but minatory gaze in your eyes. A family where everyone kills for a living, one of his son's best known hit man in Jersey; definitely the best out of the rest and people have been striving to find you---wanting to experience services that would definitely be worth the shot because you've struggled to learn everything---trained to become unstoppable. Although, there is one mistake that runs in the family,---" pause, "Your daddy never misses, yes?" The man dragged on and on, he was walking on a path of burning coal and fire. Hence, you were sure he was soon going to get a beating out of what gossips he was saying.

You closed your eyes, breathing quieter than normal; scared to get caught listening to their conversation. You heard a thud on the wall beside you, and it was because your professor boldly strangled the man around his neck, choking him to the point of taking his life out of it. His rage seen from how the veins on his temples were protruding and aching to burst from his anger.

Your fingers trembled from the sudden violence. Downright feeling frightened for what was going to happen with the pestilent man who wanted to get onto his wick, provoking to turn him into a savage animal who wouldn't deliberate for the kill. This man was bringing back memories that Henry wanted to avoid and forget after months of thriving.

But, it never happens because he was born to assassinate and the memories and guilt continued to haunt him forever.

"U-Until, he missed the part that your mother wasn't the target, but your weak, senile, clumsy il babbo aimed the sniper at her head," The man was trudging with fire, a fire that wouldn't be easy to kill.

You heard a cock of somebody's gun, and a deep hitch of breath from the stranger. He violently thrashed against his hold as he could see the gun tucked between the side of his pants. The barrel of the gun shiny beneath the moon light. The Italian clawed on Henry's large hand that was wrapped around his neck with a vice grip. Your professor didn't felt any remorse, nor guilt. Only amusement after trying to spur him on.

"It's quite a shame that you think of me that way," he smiled, a pure wicked beam that you haven't seen since then, cocking his head to the side as he gave him a frightening glare and a simple raise of his eyebrow, "---I'm definitely not like my father because when I hold a gun?" Mr. Cavill seethed through clenched teeth and a tight jaw, "---missing a target would be one of my greatest mistakes and I haven't had any blunders since then,"

"---I never risk to make any mistakes, Leo. I'm far different from my father. When I annihilate a target, I don't think twice and I know you've heard the gossips,"

Leonardo Bianchi desperately tried to fight off the hand that was slowly killing him. After a few more attempts, he have seen that there was no escape and that he'd click the switch inside Henry's head to become the lethal weapon that he was born to be.

The family has given him the go signal. Leonardo has only been a pawn for the family's success into whatever decision they had for the only Cavill that was left alive. But, he had hunt him down; catching the beast as to where it lived; hunting down its location. But, tonight will be the night he reaches his demise, and the man definitely knows it when he'd been given the order to stay close and find what they needed.

Leonardo was just merely their cat's paw.

He loudly laughed manically, breathing labored as the latter heaved to live for his family that was held hostage by the organization that he was in. If he wasn't alive before they get to track him down then his very own family---the real ones---will lose a father and a person who protects them from treacherous doings that he had been involved.

"I won't be the only one rotting in hell, Henry---" he deadpanned, "---you are too because revenge can be bittersweet and you're living for it,"

Mr. Cavill's smile turned upside down into a phlegmatic grimace, sliding the pistol out of his black trench coat that was tucked in between his pants before closely aiming the gun right in the middle of Leonardo's forehead, sweat began to roll down Leonardo's temples from the fear of being dead in the middle of a dead end street. Henry's eyes held no sympathy and just undying wrath for how his past was haunting him down no matter what he does. No matter what he does, they always crawl back like they have been hiding under his bed since then.

Leonardo Bianchi shut his eyes before death could even take him. He knew then and there he was going to die because whenever one does get to find the hit man that every familia wanted to get a hold to, they die in that exact day; complicating their trackers and showing them the wrong location until Henry decides to leave whatever life he created in his current one.

Though, he doubt that he'll be leaving this place for good today. Maybe, fate was about to take its turn and play the wild card.

"Let's share hell together then, il compagno."

It didn't take two seconds before you've heard the blaring sound of a gun going off; never thinking twice about pulling the trigger. He was dead, just like that; leaving his family in the past of his sins.

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

Everything was gory. The bullet punctured the wall where Leonardo's head was roughly pushed with his dreams and faith that has been crushed in just a single bullet and because of one malefactor that you didn't expect to see.

Mr. Cavill killed a man with his gun and he wasn't just any man; the Italian man was his co-worker, a fellow professor too who went with the name 'Aaron Anderson' who also hid his Italian accent with a rough southern intonation of his tongue.

He was your new Physical Education professor last week ago and now Mr. Anderson was laying on the cold, hard ground on a dead end street.

Henry slipped the gun in his trench coat for safety; audibly sighing for a sight that he never knew would happen again. However, they took three months before he was found again rather than those weeks that they've taken for him to be hunted down. He didn't need another re-location of his life in another country or place; the latter was pleased to be a professor in your university, living in a secluded and a slightly run down rental apartment which was needed for his bolthole; so he would hardly be found.

Crimson blood pooled along the ground, he crouched before Leonardo; his eyes wide opened to tell that he was fighting to live with a gun on his head. Yet, Henry apathetically stared at his pale, bloody face, showing no ounce of pity for the whole situation. He took his white handkerchief tucked in his coat pockets, expunging the blood that coated on his thick fingers before bluntly throwing it on Leonardo's face. Once his rue was clean and forgotten, he firmly stood on his feet like this has been a daily occurrence for years end.

Curiosity killed the cat and care was too obsessed over the Cheshire cat. Now, she was left to deteriorate for letting her other professor be killed by his own co-worker.

Your hands began trembling and your breath was getting the best of you. Hence, it added more panic when the rough, relaxed sounds of footfall started to echo closer and closer before it ceased before the dumps that was behind you.

A faint click of a button has been heard before hearing his low, satiny timbre of his voice nearby; feeling as if eyes were boring into your head while you have been rooted, crouching beside the dumps.

"Blind alley. East side. You know where I am because I know you track me down, Huntsman. Go check your fucking tracker---yeah, yeah. Another bullshit of a carcass. Shot in the head, mate. Got blood on my hands again---it was the first time for the last three months though,"

He sounded like he was just talking dinner with the caller on his phone. Too stolid for what he has done after the shooting. Thus, you've heard soft tapping of his foot on the ground, nearer than it ever has been.

"---I want the whole fucking alley pasteurized in less than ten minutes, got it?" he brusquely ordered around, giving a moment for the caller to finish whatever he or she was saying before you've heard Henry scoff from above your head; making you audibly hitch your breath, "---Don't act like you aren't following me around and that you live nearby,"

You were caught. The cat was captured from her sheer curiosity. Cats have seven lives based on the sayings. Nevertheless, you only had one left for tonight.

It felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown on your head. The eerie, tranquil silence for waiting whatever it is that his friend wanted to say was killing you alive. You began to breathe fast, hyperventilating in your space as your nails scratched the clothing of your knees, panic was rising through and becoming uncontrollable.

Sure, you were a stalker. But, did you deserve to die in the same place where your P.E professor has been killed? will you accept the fact that you'll be perished by the man who was worth the obsession before you knew he was a convict?

If so, then why was your core still throbbing to be caught like it was giving you thrill and excitement to be lured in?

"---Might have caught a witness this time," Henry bluntly confessed, his tone quite exuberant from the expected emotion you imagined him to be in; sounding like he caught the biggest fish in the sea as he went on to talk.

"---Don't worry. This one's mine. I'll do all the interrogating tonight,"

Then, you've heard the shuffling of his clothes, thinking that he'd tuck his phone inside his pockets before you've felt him crouch beside you; slowly and painstakingly.

Warm set of thick fingers clasped onto your fretful ones, his touch sending sparks and probably knives from how tender yet threatening it felt; like his softness had a trade of contract with the Grim Reaper because he didn't seem to be like a person whose heart was delicate, virtuous and guileless like how you've imagined him to be.

His face can trick you into imagining him to be the opposite of what he actually was. An unfortunate disguise that he had which infatuated you to the core. Literally.

He pried those hands away from fidgeting over your knee, his eyes burning you alive as it felt so heavy on the side of your face.

"You shouldn't have followed me, sweetheart."

His presence was near. Too near for you to handle the bad omen lingering around. Your heart stopped beating from the moment those thick, rough, calloused fingers reach out to lightly clasp around the width of your soft, silky neck. The loose grip more frightening than to receive a rougher one because it was giving you mixed signals that you've hit a nerve and your death was just being postponed for minutes.

You've unconsciously swallowed, "You've seen the murder. I know you were a smart one no matter how you were always misbehaving---but, this time; you behaved like the good girl that your parents have always believed in," Henry whispered in your ear; his fiery, hot breath fanning the side of your face in ways that got your heart pounding in such crazy exhilaration. Shivers began to shake your spine, leaving you scared and thrilled for your life.

His thumb grazed along the edge of your jaw, your primal focus on his hand ghosting over your neck like he was planning to choke you alive. Henry could have it, he could do just that with how you've easily submitted to the murderer of your night.

Those cobalt eyes were cryptic. An enigma that kept you insane and wanting for more because of how secretive he was that got you following him around. But, you obviously couldn't deny the tremor of being caught by the man himself.

Your professor forcefully turned your head to look straight into his face. Thus, there you notice splotches of blood has painted his face; such perfect canvas that has been ruined by the blood of the person's life that he has taken. Henry was almost perfect, too perfect that it leaves you thoroughly intrigued for what flaw he had because you knew, deep down; there was something more.

His nose nuzzled upon yours, the dimples of his nose slightly grazing as he lowly seethed with spite and utter sophistication, "If you were any normal person, you should have left me alone since the last two weeks,"

He knew.

Mr. Cavill knows he was being followed by you and nothing was more frightening than a smirking devil who hid behind a picturesque face that would make you kneel before him like his Acolyte. Though, you were just thinking about it that you haven't even realized you were already glorifying him before you even know it.

His breath met your mouth. Your veins were flowing faster than it ever does before, much more than your orgasms could ever take. You lightly scoffed, sounding a little more shakier than how you imagined it to be, worried about everything you've done for the last two weeks. Your actions thoroughly inconspicuous.

The stalker title taken seriously like you have done it for a long time.

"But, I'm far from sane, Sir."

You knew you were. Saying it out loud was so bold in your part. But, if you were being honest it felt like this whole shaken girl that he was seeing has just been all an act that you wanted to manipulate.

Manipulation was just the icing on the cake because you could do more than that for the man you love. The facade that everyone sees was just merely a veil that came with your fancy dress, drinking wine as you let all the plans go through your head that was written inside your secret diary that was buried under the Sycamore tree that your mother loves to disregard because of how high maintenance it was, close to reaching its death as you noticed the leaves falling every day like bad-omen was coming. Hence, she didn't like how ghastly it appeared to be like; making it a better spot for your secrets to be kept under the pile of shattered dreams and bones.

If your mother wouldn't love the horrible ones, then you were willing to appreciate its natural beauty despite of how hideous it was for everyone.

Once you love someone or something, you never let it go that easily; reaching to the level that you would do everything in your will power to get and have what you want.

Henry's grip tightened in a way that got you grinning like a Cheshire cat, he was playing a game where he was trying to let you run for the hills. Mr. Cavill was mindlessly telling you that your life wasn't useful nor significant to him; though, you knew he didn't have it in him to place the gun on your temples because if he did then you should've been dead right now.

Deep within the waves of his ocean, you've seen something valuable that can be useful for you. Your lips curled wider as you've read his eyes that secretly tells you that he was more than interested for the poker game because of the cards he set beneath his palms; confidently assured that he would win.

He had a three of a kind.

But, you hold out a straight flush.

"---I doubt you're sane for stalking me around like it is a normal thing for a student like you,"

You quietly giggled beneath being dominated within his reach. Your tongue slipped out of your mouth, the wet muscle sticking out to lick the cupid's bow of his lips which made your crime-filled professor growl from the sudden action. He harshly huffed out of his mouth, giving you a menacing flicker of his Cobalt eyes which made you laugh out louder as the pungent, metallic scent of blood wafted through both of your noses.

Tag, he was it.

Now, you had more reasons to pry into his life more than how you were invited. Howbeit, Invitations weren't needed because your strong determination was enough to trespass into his dangerous world.

FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED, BB! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag the user. Please do check your settings, dollies!) PLEASE DO REBLOG! 🥰

Taglist for Sinners in a Pod: @amirahiddleston​, @iloveyouyen​, @godohammers​, @uncoolcloudyhead​, @marvelousell​, @boundtomyfate​, @evansislife​, @rahdaleigh​, @justine-en​, @agniavateira​, @maan24​, @fangirl-inthe-us​, @mary-ann84​ @snatchedbylele​

[hvitserkmarcosource]

The Arrangement

Chapter Six: Little Bird

Warnings: None (Warnings will be updated with each chapter, so make sure you read them!)

Chapter Six Summary: Hvitserk is well enough to leave the Healer. Ivar wakes you from a peaceful dream.

Word Count: 2,306

A much lighter chapter! Contains Hvitserk fluff 😍 the best kind of fluff! Thank you all for your comments, likes, and reblogs 🥰 I hope you enjoy Chapter six!

Chapte Five

Chapter Seven - Coming Soon

................................................

He holds you, like the two of you are the last people on this earth. Like he needs you to breathe. And you let him, because right now you feel the same way. He keeps talking, mumbling words into your hair as he holds you. And if he’d let you, you would pull away to hear him properly, but he doesn’t. He just keeps mumbling and rocking you back and forth.

The two of you stay like that for a while, until you both have calmed down and the world slows. You pull away from him then and smile. “Are you okay?”

He nods “What did you do? How did you get Ivar to release me?”

You shake your head, still not wanting to tell him. “It was nothing, everything will be okay now.”

Hvitserk gives you a look then, a look that says ‘this isn’t over’ until that time comes you will ignore it. Not wanting anything to spoil this moment. “When can you leave?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

An elderly woman enters the room and answers the question for you. “The Prince can leave when he wishes, I can do no more for him. His body has to heal on its own now.” She must be the Healer.

Before she leaves you stop her “Can I speak to you for a second, please?” You turn to Hvitserk and whisper “I will be back, shortly.”

The Healer brings you into an empty room and smiles at you, it’s a sad smile, like she can feel what happened to you. Her fragile hands grip your shoulders and she looks at your head “That’s a bad wound Princess, let me clean you up.”

She sits you down next to a barrel of fresh water and soaks a cloth into it. Gently she rubs at your forehead “Is it not just a bruise?” You ask

“It will be, but right now there is a cut and you are bleeding… May I ask how you hurt yourself?”

“No, you may not.” You were harsh but you have to protect yourself, you have to protect Hvitserk. He can’t take anymore beatings. “I am sorry. It has been a long couple of days. I did not mean to be so abrasive.”

She hums in response and continues to clean and bandage your wound. “And what about the bruising on your neck Princess? Shall I not ask about those too?”

You furrow your brows and say “M-my neck?”

“Aye, you look like you’ve been mauled by a bear.”

A laugh escapes you. You are not sure why, none of this is funny, it was just too real not to laugh. “In a way I was” you say “Is there any way to help the bruises go away?”

Just as she’s about to speak you hear Hvitserk calling for you. “Prince Hvitserk is very fond of you.” The Healer states “He kept saying your name when they brought him in. He was asking for you all night, wanting to make sure that you were okay.” She lets out a puff of air that you take for a laugh, and continues “He kept jumping out of bed, trying to make his way to the castle. Prince Ubbe had to restrain him until he calmed down and realized he would see you today.”

“Prince Ubbe? There is another son of Ragnar here?” She nods her head towards Hvitserk’s room and says “He’s the one who escorted you here, dear.”

Good to know that not all of the Lothbrok sons are as evil and malicious as Ivar. Perhaps Ubbe can be another kind person you can talk to. “Hvitserk did not have time to introduce me to all of his brothers.” You explain “I-Is King Ivar umm how should I put this-“

“Cruel and mad. Yes Princess he is always those things. But he is a God so we tolerate it. The people either worship him, fear him, or hate him.”

A whimper leaves your lips as you stand to leave. The pain in between your legs still tormenting you. “Thank you for being honest with me. I will not speak of what you have just said. And thank you for taking care of Hvitserk… I know I’ve just arrived but I feel connected to him, you must think I’m silly,”

A quick smirk graces her wrinkly face and she whispers “I believe the Gods sent you to him, he needs someone to love, always has. And after that poor girl was burned for treason,” she sighs “The Prince’s heart was broken. I have faith that you will mend it.”

Another shout of your name echoes in the next room and you jump when the man from before opens the door “He’s asking for you” the man- Ubbe says. “Please come in here before I kill him.”

You giggle at the empty threat and walk into the room, turning to the healer before Ubbe shuts the door “Thank you, for everything.”

“You are welcome Princess.”

The next hour is spent with you desperately trying to avoid Hvitserk’s questions and Ubbe failing miserably to not look frustrated with the both of you. You just can’t tell him yet, you can’t tell him how you betrayed your home and sold out your own father. You can’t tell him that his brother is planning a war as you speak. You can’t tell him how pathetic you’ve been. You can’t.

“Everything I love has always had a tendency to be taken away from me.” Hvitserk says, looking into your eyes so intently you think he can see into your soul “Before we wed, you will tell me what happened.”

Closing your eyes you bow your head “I will tell you, I never planned to keep this from you forever” you say softly “I only wanted to spend time with you before I make you hate me.”

He groans and shuffles in his bed “Why would I hate you?”

You sniffle back a sob and shake your head. Still not wanting to tell him. “Because no Princess should do what I have just done.”

Someone in the room clears their throat, making you jump, and move off of Hvitserk to see who it was. To your worst fear it is Ivar, smiling once again as he stares at you. You’re beginning to hate seeing him smile. He walks over to the two of you and puts a hand on your shoulder, to which you shake it off and move as far away from him as you can without actually leaving.

The King turns his attention to his brother and sits on his bed “You look well brother” he says

Hvitserk snarls “No thank to you Ivar”

He laughs “That is all in the past! I love you, you know I do. I only did what I did to make an example for the people of Kattegat. They need to know what will happen to them if they ever treat me as you did.”

“You were going to kill me to keep your people in line!?” He yells

“I would never kill you dear brother” Ivar says and looks at you once more. “I was only waiting for this one to give me the information I needed.”

Your heart does a flip inside of your chest. Ivar was playing you this entire time. He was never going to let Hvitserk die. He knew you would eventually betray your family. “You- yo-u bastar-“

Ivar stands and pushes you into a corner “Careful Princess, be very careful how you speak to me.” He backs away from you and takes his place back on Hvitserk’s bed “She is a feisty one brother, she made demands, screamed at me, argued even… Once you are healed be sure to remind her of her place, hmm? She is not Queen and she is barely a Princess.”

Ivar then points at you and says “You are lucky you are not my wife, very lucky.”

................................................

You are in a field of wildflowers, the stems bend lazily in the wind and you marvel at all of the vibrant colors. Each one is distinct and though different from the others, still perfect. You run your hand along the petals and look up to feel the warm light of the mid summer day. A sense of calm consumes you as you take a deep breath, the air smelling crisp and refreshing. Birds take flight in an almost cloudless sky. You start walking, trying to follow. The field seems to go on forever, leading you down a stone covered path and after a while of walking you see a white bird sitting on a fence post.

The closer you get you see that the white bird is a raven. And she’s beautiful. You feel drawn to her, like a force unbeknownst to you is pulling you towards the rare creature. When you reach her you hold out your hand, for some reason the raven isn’t afraid, and she nuzzles your palm. “Hello” you say quietly. She coos almost like a child.

And then you hear a noise that startles you… a cry. It doesn’t sound distraught, it sounds innocent and pure. Like it doesn’t belong in this cruel world. A strong feeling washes over you, a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. Love. You look down at the raven but instead catch a glimpse of your swollen belly.

This is the most joyful you’ve felt in years. And it only intensifies when a strong pair of hands wrap around you and rub your belly gently. “How are you feeling today my love?” It is Hvitserk’s voice

“I am well, we are well”

You feel him kiss the back of your head and then he shakes you “Wake up Princess… Wake up!”

Gasping and clutching the blanket to your chest, you wake up startled, and confused. The room is dark but you can see Hvitserk and he doesn’t look happy. “Wake up there is someone coming” he whispers. It has been a week since Hvitserk has left the Healer and all has been quiet in Kattegat. Ivar has left you alone and Hvitserk has been spending a lot of time teaching you about their Gods.

He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs a dagger, a bright red jewel shines on the hilt. “This was supposed to be a gift,” He says handing the dagger to you “I know how much you love your red cloak so I had them add a ruby to the hilt to match.” You smile

“It is beautiful, thank you Hvitserk.” He leans in and places a kiss on your forehead

“You do know how to use it, right?”

You nod “Yes, pointy end stabs.”

He laughs at your small attempt at a joke. “Very good Princess”

The door to your chambers open with a clash, and you hold your dagger tighter. In the dark you can’t see anyone but you can hear them. Crawling?

“Ivar, what do you want?” Hvitserk groans and takes the dagger from you. “Couldn’t it wait until morning?”

Ivar gets up onto Hvitserk’s side of the bed and says “No, this could not wait. I had a vision”

Hvitserk looks at you out of the corner of his eye, like he is worried “A vision? Like father used to have?”

“Exactly, Odin has told me that you need to go to England. I want you to leave at first light, and while you are there you will meet her father and gain his trust-“

You sit up, ready to protest but Hvitserk’s arm reaches across your body and holds you down. “What if I don’t want to go, Ivar? I have a wedding soon and have certain duties here that have to be attended to. Have Ubbe go.”

”Let me worry about Kattegat dear brother, I will handle everything here. I am it’s King, am I not?”

Hvitserk nods but still doesn’t give up “Yes of course, however I don’t want to leave her alone.” You rest your hand on his arm that is caging you in and smile at him. He is starting to care for you more and more.

“The Princess will be fine, if you go” Ivar says, a hint of threat lacing his voice

Hvitserk grabs the dagger again and holds it up to Ivars throat digging it into his flesh enough to bleed. “Is that a threat Ivar?”

The king chuckles, amused by this entire situation. “Either you go, or I might just be occupied when a group of my men find her in the meadow alone… and so beautiful.” Hvitserk let’s Ivar push the blade away from his throat and Ivar says “Besides, this is the wish of Odin. You can not say no to Him Hvitserk.”

With a thud, Ivar gets back onto the floor and crawls out of the room. Leaving the two of you alone. Hvitserk’s arm lets you go and you immediately sit up “Isn’t there another way? Do you have to leave… and so soon?”

He takes your fidgeting hand in his and laces your fingers together “How fast can you get a letter to your father?”

You can see ideas sparking in his mind “If I write it now, probably a little after morning. Why?”

Hvitserk gets out of bed and hands you a piece of parchment and an ink quill. “Tell your father of my plans to visit. Tell him how you miss him and would request that he demands you come along.”

A rush of excitement soars through you as you write the letter. Your perfect handwriting suffers for it. “I'm going back to England” you say happily.

Hvitserk takes the note from your hands and places it in his coat pocket “Yes you are.”

Tag List: @alexhogh7137 @ivarthebloodyking @sfyri @curlyhairedhoseok @mavalenovaninagavi @lol-haha-joke @joebob15274 @itsharleyalb @mrsworldwide15

[scapegrace74-blog]

Saorsa, Chapter 19

A/N  Here is the next installment of Saorsa.  In which Jamie is introduced to the auto.mo.bile.   This might be one of my favourite scenes in the entire first arc.

Rather than link to all previously posted chapters, I’ll just direct those of you wanting to catch up on your Saorsa-reading to my AO3 page, where the fic is posted in its entirety.

Thank you to each of you liking and reblogging!  It does my little fanfic writer’s heart good.

Released from the prison of his secret, Jamie flourished over the weeks leading up to the festive season.  With the wounds on his back and shoulder finally healed, he helped Murtagh in the stables and about the estate each day, slowly regaining his strength.  In the evenings, he sat with Claire in the great room, helping with the ledgers, conversing quietly, or listening to the frequent BBC Radio updates from the front.

Now that she understood the source of Jamie’s strange ambivalence regarding the war, she tried to provide him with as much context as possible.  It helped that he was a worldly, educated man for his time, but the advances in technology were such that he spent many nights in quiet, stunned silence as she described aerial bombing raids, the convoluted alliances between countries that spread the globe and chemical warfare.

“But why, Sassenach?  What cause unites Germany, the Turks and Japan, and pits them against Britain, France and Russia?  Millions have died, ye say, but for what end?”

She knew what her answer was supposed to be: the fight against global hegemony, restoring the balance of power, ensuring that democracy prevailed over tyranny.  But she couldn’t say those things to Jamie, because she knew he would see them for what they were: academic constructs that meant nothing to the common man whose blood was being shed.  

Instead, she distracted him with stories about her own travels, following her Uncle Lambert around the globe from one archaeological dig to the next.  An orphan and obligatory nomad himself, he listened to her story of rootlessness with sympathy but no pity.  She found herself sharing memories she’d thought were boxed away for good, little glimpses of a life she’d been forced to leave behind upon her uncle’s death.  They hurt as they rose to the surface, like debriding a wound, but if her eyes watered in the firelit room, Jamie did not comment.  Perhaps he attributed it to the peat smoke.

“And when yer uncle passed, ye marrit Frank?” he asked one such night, after they’d each drunk a few glasses of sherry.

He seldom mentioned Frank, and usually only obliquely.

“No.  I settled in London, shared a flat with some other single girls, and enrolled in nurse’s college.  Uncle Lamb left me enough money to pay my board, tuition and such.  And when the war broke out, the army were very eager to recruit nurses for their field hospitals.  I met Frank at a mixer; a social event organized for British soldiers.   He was still in officer’s training.  I was scheduled to deploy to the continent once my schooling was finished.  Before I knew it, we were married.”

“Ye did no’ go tae war, then?”  She wondered what Jamie made of all of this.  She was no historian, but she imagined the idea of paying a woman to serve on the battlefront, even if she was not actually fighting, must be foreign to his eighteenth-century view of the world.   Come to think of it, Frank hadn’t been very fond of the idea either.

“No.  Once we were married, Frank arranged for me to come to Lallybroch, to mind the estate.  One of the perks of being an enlisted officer, I imagine.”

Some of her disenchantment must have crept into her voice, because Jamie’s next words were, “Many’s the way a lady can serve her country, Claire.  My da would say…” he trailed off, looking bashful.

“Say what?” she prodded.

“That a strong woman was worth three men, fer she could tend a hearth, grow a new life, and defend her kin more fiercely than any hired soldier.  He’d say it of ye, Sassenach.”

She blushed at the unexpected praise, lowering her eyes to the empty sherry glass twisting between her fingers.

“Sometimes I wonder…” she began, but then stopped herself, not wishing to slander the dead.  She could feel Jamie’s articulate eyes watching her.  “Well, never mind.  Would you care for more sherry?”

What she couldn’t say was that she wondered whether her late husband had ever truly known her at all.

**

Yuletide was a somber affair.   News of Frank’s death had by now reached the tenants, adding a pall to what was already a holiday of austerity.   Claire worked many late nights with Mrs. Fitz and Cook by her side.  On the day before Christmas she delivered two wooden crates to Murtagh.

“There’s a pair of woolen socks and a clementine for each child on the estate and in the village.  Can you please see that they are given out today?”, she requested.  “And once that’s done, please tell the labourers that they are free to go home.  I don’t want to see them back before Hogmanay.   Jamie and I can tend the livestock for a few days.”

Murtagh opened his mouth, but Claire raised her hand, forestalling any complaint.

“I don’t want to hear it, Mr. Fitzgibbons.  And make certain each man takes a cloutie dumpling home with him.  They’re underneath the clementines.”

**

“I’ll jus’ ride tae the village on Donas, and meet ye there,” Jamie evaded, looking unusually nervous but dapper in navy trousers, a clean shirt and borrowed tweed jerkin.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jamie.  It’s freezing out tonight, and you’ll be late for midnight mass besides.”

Her Scot made an indeterminate noise in his throat, neither acquiescing nor contesting her point.

“It’s just a short drive.   That old Vauxhall Cadet can barely break twenty miles an hour, and I’m a very good driver.”  She neglected to mention the slight handicap of not being able to use the vehicle’s headlights, on account of the blackout.   Fortunately, she had the route to the village memorized by now and the moon was waxing full.

“I dinna doubt it, Sassenach.  I just… twenty miles an ‘our?  Did ye say yer automobile can travel o’er twenty miles an ‘our?”

He pronounced it as three separate words, each carrying the possibility of detonating in his mouth: auto, mo, bile.

Claire grabbed her warmest coat and scarf, then pulled Jamie, still balking, towards the courtyard where the car sat idling.  Five minutes later, navigating the moonlit road into the village, he could be heard muttering in Gaelic from the passenger’s seat, getting a headstart on his Yuletide prayers.

**

The tiny stone church was lit only by tapers, so it wasn’t until she filed back to the Lallybroch pew after receiving communion that she noticed Murtagh sitting alone in a dim corner near the door.  She had to dodge a few well-wishers at the end of mass in order to accost him before he could sneak away.

“Murtagh, what are you doing here?  I told you and the other men to go home to your families over the holidays.”

Jamie joined her, nerves considerably calmed by the familiar church rituals.  Murtagh gave him a beseeching look.

“What?” she asked, looking between their faces and annoyed at their apparent complicity.

“Sassenach, Murtagh comes from the Isle of Lewis.  Even if he’d hied away t’day, he canna make it there an’ back in no’ but a week.”

Claire bit her lip, chagrinned that it never occurred to her to wonder if her labourers could take advantage a holiday, or if she’d merely complicated their lives with what she believed was benevolence.  It was one of those moments when she was certain she would never adequately fill the role of Lady of Lallybroch.

“It’s nae yer fault, Claire,” Jamie assured her quietly, obviously reading her dismay on her face.  “I ken the other lads were fit tae burst when they heard the news an’ saw their cloutie dumpling.”

She squared her shoulders and raised her chin, wrestling her confidence back into place.

“Well, there’s nothing for it, then.  Murtagh, I insist you join Jamie and I in the main house for Christmas dinner tomorrow.  And when the holidays are over, and the time is convenient for you, you shall take two weeks to visit your family.  It must be an age since you last saw them.”

“Mistress, I canna…” Murtagh began, but his mistress was already on the move.

“I don’t want to hear of it.  Now please join us in the auto.mo.bile.  I may need you to administer smelling salts to our fearless Highland warrior on the road home.”

[goodomensblog]

Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

In celebration of recently hitting the 10,000 followers mark (which is honestly wild) I wanted to do something fun to celebrate. SOOO it’s a choose your own adventure fic! KIND OF

Here’s how it will work:

I’ll write a chapter.

At the end of each chapter, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.

Comment to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes within the first 24 hours after each update is posted.

I’m not sure how long the whole fic will be, and I’m not really entirely positive that this is even going to logistically work, but we’re gonna give it a shot! 

Afterward

Part 1

- - - - - - - -

Aziraphale is hunched, examining thin, age-stained pages of a first edition copy of The Waves, when the bookshop door opens with a whine. Aziraphale did in fact, recently oil its hinges, but in spite of his efforts, the door seems determined to put up a vocal protest every now and again, as if it’s learned it’s owner’s distaste of disturbances. 

Aziraphale recognizes the swift, loping footsteps, however; and the shop’s newest entrant is a disturbance the angel is more than willing to forgive. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot about lunch.”

“Of course I haven’t,” Aziraphale answers, looking up from the book.

Crowley stands inside the open doorway. 

Warm, late morning sunlight encircles his angular figure in a halo of rust-red. Golden eyes peer over the tops of sunglasses, which have slipped halfway down his nose. In the year since the Apoca-Wasn’t, Crowley has let his hair grow out, and as he tilts his head back, pushing the glasses up with a deliberately casual flick of his hand, the bottom ends of auburn waves brush his shoulders.

Aziraphale loses his grip on the page. Forgotten, it slides between his fingers.

Looking at Crowley, all angles and back-lit by sun, Aziraphale decides it’s a striking scene - and were Aziraphale an artist, he should very much like to immortalize this moment with paint and canvas so he might have it to keep and admire later.

“-you alright? ....angel?”

The seconds stretch, and Aziraphale realizes with an embarrassed flush that Crowley is speaking to him. Has been, in fact, for the last thirty-odd seconds.

The demon’s forehead is creased, and his brows are pressing together. Crowley’s weight is shifted forward, ready to move, but as Aziraphale rushes to stand, Crowley turns an aborted step into a forcefully nonchalant lean against the nearest bookshelf.

“Sorry dear. My mind’s still wrapped up in this first edition Woolf, I suppose. A gorgeous text,” Aziraphale says, glancing at Crowley’s slouching silhouette as he shelves The Waves without so much as a look at the book or bookshelf. “Are we late?”

“Course not. Figured you might be nose deep in a book. Came a few minutes early to remind you...and give you a chance to finish up.”

Aziraphale hums, smiling as he pulls on his coat. “Very thoughtful of you, Crowley.”

Slouching more determinedly against the bookshelf, Crowley shoves his hands into his ridiculously shallow pockets and shrugs. “Practical.”

“The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive” Aziraphale says, turning a fond look in Crowley’s direction as he adjusts his coat with a tug.

With a quiet noise of embarrassment, Crowley shoves off the bookshelf and turns on his heel. Hands still tucked in his pockets, he nods toward the door. 

“Shall we?”

“Oh yes, please,” Aziraphale says, and as he follows after Crowley, he can’t entirely ignore the urge to slide his fingers down the demon’s arm and coax his hand from his pocket. 

He doesn’t act on it, of course.

After the business with the foiled apocalypse and fooling Heaven and Hell, Crowley has been, well - relaxed, Aziraphale supposes. Why, just the other day he convinced Aziraphale to join him at a spa, and the two of them spent the better part of the afternoon poolside, basking, without any vigilant circling on Crowley’s part or so much as a single paranoid look over his shoulder.

It was nice.

And Aziraphale isn’t about to do anything which might risk disrupting Crowley’s newfound peace and throwing the perfectly contented demon off balance.

Heaven - er - Someplace knows, Crowley deserves all the peace and normalcy he can get. 

And if that requires Aziraphale denying himself the unfortunately persistent impulse to hold Crowley’s hand - well. There are much worse fates. 

He and Crowley are alive. And together. 

Those two facts are enough. More than enough. Everything, anything beyond those essentials is a luxury - a gift.

Bumping Crowley’s elbow, Aziraphale smiles. “I’m eager to try this new restaurant you’ve discovered.”

Crowley’s lips quirk in an answering half-grin. Shoving through the squeaky door, he steps outside, turning to hold it open for Aziraphale.

“Oh you’ll love it, angel. The things they do with oysters, its -”

A crack rends the quiet morning.

Behind Crowley’s heel, fissures tear through the pavement. 

Dark mist billows from the crevices, and before Crowley can so much as turn, a mist shrouded figure rises. Acrid smoke hisses between Lord Beelzebub’s sharp, white teeth, and their red eyes narrow at the sight of Crowley’s exposed back.

- - - - - 

Upon seeing Beelzebub, Aziraphale:

Pushes between Crowley and the Lord of Hell, bodily shielding Crowley from a perceived attack.

Grabs Crowley’s arm, attempting to pull him back into the safety of the shop.

Strikes out at Beelzebub, intending to stun them before they can harm Crowley.

Comment or reblog to vote! :)

Read Part 2 Here

[rosecorcoranwrites]

September Reading Roundup

It's time for this month's reading roundup, but first, a little announcement that no one but me will care about: I'm staying off the internet until the election. Well, mostly. I'll still post to Tumblr, Twitter, and Instagram when the mood strikes me or when I have a writing update. I'll still post Rant Rave Reviews on here and Youtube (the theme this month is spooky stories, of course). But I won't be interacting much (ie, I won't be spending hours reading through Twitter and Tumblr and watching random Youtube videos I've already seen). If you @ me or retweet or reblog a post, I'll probably respond in a day or two, but other than that, I'm becoming a recluse.

The reason for this is twofold. First, I'm offering it up. For those of you who aren't Catholic, "offering it up" is sort of like giving up something for Lent. You discipline yourself by enduring some deprivation (either natural, like pain, or of your own choosing, like not watching hours of Youtube). At the same time, you offer up your (albeit, in this case, slight) suffering as a sacrifice for some good. I'm offering it up for America. Not the election, America. Because, not to get political or anything, but no matter who wins the garbage fire that is the 2020 election, America is doomed unless our culture changes. As I said to a friend recently, if this was the 90s, we could weather whatever storm Trump or Biden brings, but people hate each other so much right now that our country is pretty much over. Unless...

I don't know what I'm praying for, but I'm praying, praying that come what may, God in his Providence will drag something good out of all of it, kicking and screaming if need be. I will also be doing a rosary novena with my diocese October 14th through October 22, and then another one with the USCCB October 26th to November 3rd. Join me if you would like.

On a lighter note, I'm a volunteer writer-in-residence again at my hometown library, so I'm obligated to focus on writing this month, and need write, research, and workshop without distraction. I have two Forensics and Fiction books all tabbed and ready to read, plus a book about army nurses in the Vietnam War. The plot of book one in the alternate-history/fantasy/mystery trilogy is fast congealing, and I want to strike while the iron is hot. I need to focus! My ultimate goal is to be ready to write a little each day in November, returning to my heretical NaNoWriMo ways.

I'll let you know how it all turns out in my first Novemebr post, which will be a reading roundup of October. Until then, let's take a look at what I read this month:

Two Six Shooters Beat Four Aces: Stories of a Young Arizona by Barbara Marriott Ph.D

Genre: History - Anecdotes

Why I read it: Arizona book club pic

What I thought of it: While it's clear that Marriott is an excellent researcher, she is either a bad writer or in serious need of an editor. Individual paragraphs proved internally repetitive, and the overall structure of each chapter was slapdash. It needed smoother transitions from anecdote to anecdote or more section breaks and section headers.

Would I recommend it: No, everyone in my book club, including myself, hated it.

7 1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle by Stuart Turton

Genre: Supernatural Mystery

Why I read it: I'd been wanting to for a while; the premise caught my eye

What I thought of it: The body-hopping time-loop stuff was brilliant, the characters likable, and the story delightfully twisty. The last twist and conclusion were unsatisfying, though.

Would I recommend it: Yes!! Despite it's flaws, it was an exciting, fun, and original book. I will definitely be reading Turton's next book (which involves a closed circle of suspects and, possibly, demons!?).

The Exorcist by William Blatty

Genre: Horror

Why I read it: I'd been meaning to for a while, and writing research gave me an excuse to do so

What I thought of it: I like that it doesn't pull it's punches; I'm kind of shocked that it's only been censored a couple times, actually. It presents demons as they are: hateful, grotesque jerks who get off on picking on humans. I also liked that there was a murder mystery subplot. I'm not sure I approve 100% of the ending, theologically speaking, but that's a pretty minor quibble.

Would I recommend it: Yes, but it is not for the feint of heart. Trigger warnings for child sexual abuse, adult sexual abuse, language, violence, the works.

How to Destroy America in Three Easy Steps by Ben Shapiro

Genre: Nonfiction - politics

Why I read it: It's a long story that I shall tell about in my memoir of library life, but not here. Also the cover is 10/10

What I thought of it: It was ok. I already knew most of what he said. I disagreed with some of it, like seeing the constant moving of people from town to town in 1950s as a positive thing; in actuality, "company men" in the 50s were moved around so they wouldn't have community ties but instead ties to the company, which is anti-human to the extreme. I did think it was interesting that he combatted the idea of America's greatness being built off the backs of slaves by pointing out that slavery was actually terrible for the south, as reliance on slavery retarded their economic system well after the Civil War.

Would I recommend it: If you're into political books, sure.

American Sherlock: Murder, Forensics, and the Birth of American CSI by Kate Winkler Dawson

Genre: True Crime - forensic history

Why I read it: I love historical true crime

What I thought of it: It was ok, but kind of didn't make the case for him being "The American Sherlock Holmes" (even though people really did call him that back in the day), in that a lot of his conclusions ended up being a little dubious. Still, from a research perspective, it did establish when various forensic practices started being used in the USA.

Would I recommend it: Maybe? I personally liked Father of Forensics more. I'd say this book is, like, 3/5 stars, just because it could have been tightened up a bit.

Coraline by Neil Gaiman

Genre: Horror

Why I read it: It's spooky season!

What I thought of it: Having already seen the movie, I knew pretty much what was going to happen, but I love Gaiman's turn of phrase.

Would I recommend it: Yes, especially for children who are too young for scarier fair but still want a creepy story.

The Horror at Red Hook by H.P. Lovecraft

Genre: Horror

Why I read it: It's still spooky season!

What I thought of it: I honestly liked this a lot more than the Cthulhu mythos stuff. Rather than vague demoniac blasphemies or black cyclopean gulfs, there's a real tangible cult that sacrifices (reanimated?) corpses to a pale, dancing, snickering Thing on a golden pedestal. I dig it.

Would I recommend it: Yes. Just... ignore the racism. That goes for all of Lovecraft's stuff, by the by.

Herbert West: Reanimator by H.P. Lovecraft

Genre: Horror

Why I read it: Turns out I like HP Lovecraft. Who knew?

What I thought of it: You gotta love mad scientists who try to reanimate the dead, right? I think this one would make an excellent mini-series.

Would I recommend it: Yes.

Solutions and Other Problems by Allie Brosh

Genre: Essay - illustration/comics

Why I read it: I loved Hyperbole and a Half, and was excited when I saw Brosh was coming out with another book.

What I thought of it: It was okay. Not as good as her first book, but for an understandable reason: medical complications and her sister's suicide (that's not a spoiler, as the book is dedicated to her sister). Thus, the book had a heaviness to it that the first one didn't. Still there were some parts that made me laugh so hard I cried.

Would I recommend it: Maybe? I'd say borrow it from the library, but don't buy it, unless you are also suffering a loss. It might be really relatable and cathartic in that case.

The Rats in the Walls by H.P. Lovecraft

Genre: Horror

Why I read it: I like HP Lovecraft

What I thought of it: Not as scary as I had been led to believe by my brother, but still a good story. I plan on reading Lovecraft Country at some point, which supposedly flips Lovecraft's racism on it's head, and so help me, if it doesn't make reference to this story and chattel slavery, I'll throw a fit.

Would I recommend it: Yes. I like that the cat didn't die. :)

The Shadow Over Innsmouth by H.P. Lovecraft

Genre: Horror

Why I read it: I just... I just really like Lovecraft, okay?

What I thought of it: I find the sea inherently creepy, so when you have a decrepit backwater filled with a fishy stench and secrets, it's gotta be good.

Would I recommend it: Yes, especially if you liked the Fishing Hamlet part of the Bloodborne DLC (which I could not help but think of the whole time reading this novella).

The Thing on the Doorstep by H.P. Lovecraft

Genre: Horror

Why I read it: You know why.

What I thought of it: So if you've read enough Lovecraft, especially Dunwich Horror and Shadow Over Innsmouth, you already know what's coming... or do you? Right away, HP establishes that there is a special knock the guy uses with his friend, so I assumed the twist end would involve the Thing appearing in the guy's body but not using the knock, thus revealing itself to be (redacted for slight spoilers). I was wrong. That's not how it played out, and the way it played out was so much creepier!!!

Would I recommend it: Yeah! I really liked this one!

Haunter of the Dark by H.P. Lovecraft

Genre: Horror

Why I read it: Yup

What I thought of it: Same ol', same ol, but what I thought was cool in this one was that the supposedly superstitious Italian Catholic immigrants totally know what's up and spend their stormy nights keeping the Haunter at bay with nothing but candles and flashlights. What a neat detail!

Would I recommend it: Yup. :)

[all1e23]

Swallow [Pt. 7]

Chapter: Convictions and Lies

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Summary: It’s becoming increasingly clear that Bucky will have to choose between his brothers and his girl. Y/n learns a secret. 

Warnings:  Adulty themes. Yes, I’m a grown-up, and I said adulty themes. Heavy Angst (I know. What else is new with series, right?) Sweet Bucky because I still standby that as a warning. 

A/N:   I’m sorry it’s been so long between updates, but tbh this fic takes a lot out of me when I write it – it’s emotionally exhausting to write. Send me love because I’m needy.  No beta Read at your own risk. ;-)

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam though! Thanks!*

You’ve been falling; falling fast and hard, tumbling down into the dark -- the same darkened, treacherous place your head told your heart you would never visit again.

At least that’s what you have been telling yourself the last few years-- an attempt to soothe the ache of losing the other half of your heart. It turned out the dark wasn’t so scary and hidden within the shadows was the promise of something brighter. If you could give enough of your heart and place your trust in the one person, who knew where the light is hidden.

The only source of light your soul has ever needed never failed to be found within James Barnes's heart. No matter the fearsome winds and dark clouds that roll in threatening to steal his warmth, the darkness never comes, and this time would be no different.

Seven days you’ve spent, and the clouds that lingered nearby have yet to change directions even with the powerful winds approaching.

A week of sweet kisses, soft whispers, and delicate touches pointed you towards those dark hidden shadows -- sunlight pierced holes through those dark clouds that loomed just off the coast, and you’ve never felt more at home. As you lay in Bucky’s bed, watching him sleep, your heart was right there to remind you of the promises you made to yourself and how you’ve broken every one from the moment you came home. There wasn’t a part of you that could be moved to care, heart included. The only place you have ever felt at peace was when you were by Bucky’s side. He was the only home your wandering soul knew, and no one could change that.

And while nothing, absolutely nothing, sounded better than spending the day sheltered in Bucky’s arms and basking in the glow radiating from his heart and yours, you needed coffee.

Your bright morning would quickly take a wrong turn onto a dimly lit backroad if you did not find some type of caffeine and fast. Begrudgingly, you tore yourself from his side and grabbed some of the clothes you had stashed around Bucky's room. The real trick was going to be making it downstairs without anyone seeing. Not that you were in any way ashamed or embarrassed by where you spent the last several nights -- scared was a more accurate assessment of your feelings.

Scared to let go and fearful of what would come when you do. Adding people's opinions to that fear would only create a fire you were not prepared to handle.

For now, this was only you and him.

You quietly slipped down the stairs to avoid attention, but the amount of noise you made wouldn’t have made a difference. All eyes were on you the moment you landed at the bottom step. You groaned internally but managed to keep your face blank as you crossed the room towards the only friendly face in the room.

You sat down on the table next to Peggy and asked with a smile, “No one noticed me, right?”

Peggy smirked and handed you what you assumed was her cup of coffee. “Of course not.” She assured you. “No one noticed that you came down at seven-thirty in the morning and had a pair of lace panties stuck to your jeans.”

She winked and pulled the blush-colored lace from your thigh. “Shall I wash it for you?”

You snatched it from her hand and shoved it into your pocket. “Let’s never speak of this again, and thank you for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome,” Peggy added as she stood intent on grabbing herself another cup from the kitchen.

“It looks good on you, darling,” Peggy mentioned, turning back to find your head tilted to the side and confusion written all over your face. You didn’t have anything special on, just jeans and an old Guns N’ Roses t-shirt Bucky had bought you years ago. She playfully rolled her eyes nodding to towards the bird on your wrist -- the one now bared for all to see.

“Settling back into your life. Being home.” She clarified. 

The sound of footsteps making their way downstairs had her grinning, and she promptly made her way to the kitchen. No need to add another pair of eyes to this already delicate situation.

The room full of nosy boys were enough.

Bucky descended the stairs a moment later, only adding to the awkward tension in the air. His was hair tousled from sleep still, his leather unzipped and open to show off the thin white v-neck he was wearing under it. In the middle of his chest sat a small ring hanging from a silver chain. You would know that ring against a thousand others. You doubted anyone would recognize the chain let alone the ring, maybe Steve.

You didn’t know what Steve was paying attention to back then or now, for that matter. By the look of things, no one was the same person they were five years ago -- Bucky more so than the rest.

The leather he was sporting wasn’t new, but the smile on his face certainly was.

Since the night you snuck in, tensions within the clubhouse have shifted, and the focus was no longer on who was breaking whose heart. It made the days a little sweeter and the nights a little longer, not just for the two of you. Bucky’s been smiling on the regular, talking openly and even laughed when Peter made a joke. Sam had been there to ease the kid into a chair when he went pale and queasy.

Naturally, they all wanted to ask what had their vice president so cheery, but no one dared to tease him. There was never a discussion between you, but it had seemed you both agreed not to talk about what was happening. Though you were sure everyone knew you were the reason, it was hard to miss the sun shining through to break up a rain cloud.

Still, avoiding the topic was probably for the best. Clint hadn’t been to the clubhouse since his chat with Steve and hadn’t spoken to you in three days, six hours and twenty-six minutes (Not that you were counting or anything). He couldn't -- wouldn’t accept your decision, and you didn’t know how to repair the rift it caused between you. The last words he uttered to you was a promise that has been replaying in your head ever since. He swore to you that taking Bucky back was a mistake, and if you went down this path, he didn’t know if he would be able to fix things this time. 

You had to trust that in time, Clint would understand. He’s never been able to stay mad at you for long.

Bucky continued by every member that sat, scattered throughout the clubhouse missing countless opportunities to sit near someone else. He could have found a place near Peter or Tony and avoided the one thing the club considered to be a chink in Bucky’s armor -- his defect.

As weak as you made him, you have never been his weakness regardless of what anyone else thinks.

He swung his leg over the chair in front of you, his eyes glued to yours as he lowered himself onto the harsh wooden seat.  He smirked and tilted his head to the side, watching as your eyes frantically searched to see who around you were paying attention.

Everyone was watching with interest. Typical.

You looked back at Bucky to find him grinning, eyes shimmering in delight and you knew he did this on purpose. He was never one to shy away from touching you in public. You knew what it looked like from the outside -- a possessive claim, but the truth was the poor boy has never been able to keep his hands off you.  

He wanted this, and it was okay to admit you did too.   

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You beamed, and your eyes lit up. 

“Hey, Buck.”

“So,” Bucky whispered as his hands landed on the tops of your thighs and casually moved up and down the soft material of your jeans. Getting the hint, you set your coffee down and draped your arms over his shoulders. He stopped at the top of your thighs and gave a gentle squeeze as he spoke again softer this time but still confident. “I was thinkin’ you could bring some of your things over from Clint’s.”

“Buck.” You scold, gently and slightly amused. You should have expected it really. Bucky didn’t know what slow meant when it came to you.

“Remember we are taking things slow so we can figure out how to be with each other again and you are not going to punch someone for talking to me.” You reminded, and he grinned.

“Baby...” Bucky’s voice trailed off as his hands tightened on your thighs and he carefully pulled you off the table where you fell into his waiting lap. A soft squeak fell from your lips, and he quickly swallowed it with a chaste kiss.

It only lasted a second, but it had your head spinning.

“I’ve had you spread out in my bed the last six nights in a row,” He said, raspy and quiet, his lips so close they brushed against yours as he spoke, “You haven’t been home since and I know you got things stashed in around. What’s the difference if you have some clothes in my closet?"

Everything he was saying was right, and in some part of your brain, it made sense but, what happened when you let go? Your heart wasn't ready to find out.

“If you think I’m living in this filthy ass clubhouse you aren’t very smart.” You sassed, covering fear with a sassy quip worked for your brother it could work for you. Too bad the man you were trying fool knows every inch of your skin and every beat of your heart. Bucky could see right through you.

“Okay, let’s get a house,” Bucky conceded, pulling back just enough to clear the haze your lips filled his head with. “I can go anywhere as long as you’re there with me, baby doll. There isn’t much I need to get by. Just one important thing.”

You ignored the thudding that was sounded from your chest and wrapped your fingers around the chain slowly twirling the glimmering silver around your hand. You gave it a gentle tug until your noses were nearly bumping and inquired. “You take things that aren’t yours now? Should I add thief to your resume?”

“Outlaws don’t have resumes darlin’.” He grinned.

A large hand splayed on your lower back pushed you further into his lap, and bucky quickly cleared up why it’s still hanging from his neck. “The woman I love left it behind. I’ve just been keeping it safe until she’s ready to carry the weight of it again.”

Oh.

“What if she can’t carry the weight of it?” You whispered, tightening your hold on the chain to the point it was beginning to tear at your skin. “What if the club and everything this ring stands for can’t coexist?”

Bucky bumped his nose against yours, and his eyes flicked up from the chain between you to meet your eyes. He felt stupid for not seeing that coming, but the answer was so simple he thought you would have figured it out by now. Bucky’s had five years to live with the consequences of not choosing you, and it’s not a pain he’s willing to shoulder again.

“I can live without a lot of things, but you are not one of them,” Bucky said gently and with firm conviction. “I learned that the hard way and, I can promise you, it’s the only thing I know for certain. There is nothing that could keep me from choosing you, and if I have to, I’ll burn it all down for you.”

Burn it all down, for you.

Nearly six years it’s been, and those words were like a sweet prayer you never thought you would hear. You knew the look Bucky was wearing, the determination and sincerity in eyes gave life to his words in a way that left you aching to believe him.

Deep down, you both knew it wouldn’t be that easy though, regardless of who was burning, you both would get caught in the flames.

Steve cleared his throat, dousing the kindling between you in cold water, smothering your bright morning in a toxic cloud of smoke and ash. Just like always, the perfect reminder that the club would always be there to steal him with such ease, it left you feeling silly and naive for having ever having hope.

Bucky peered over your shoulder at Steve and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’ll be done in an hour. Hang around, please?” Your arms tightened around his waist, and he sighed. “We can go to lunch when I’m done and talk. I’m not going to hide anything from you, but I gotta go in there baby doll.”

Your arms slowly fell from his side, and you did your best to shimmy out of his lap without falling -- your trembling legs were no help. Bucky rose to his feet and zipped his leather concealing his heart and your ring, not that there was much of a difference between the two.  A light kiss was placed to your temple, and heavy boots echoed through the barroom ending with the rattling slam of the wooden doors that separated you.

--------

The dread that came with being behind these doors made Bucky sick. The heaviness of the gavel never left his hand even after he passed it on to Steve, and now that you were back in his arms, it only made him yearn to be free of it all. Every bullshit meeting, every idiotic rule, and every painful decision that pushed him further away from the man he wanted to be -- the man he was when he was with you.

The club would be alright without him when the time came, or it would come crashing down. Bucky wanted to care, but he didn’t. He only needed to get the club through this bullshit with Red Skulls, and he was gone, whether Steve let him go or not.

Several grumbled voices rang throughout the room as Steve’s gavel came down. Bucky was uneasy, and the meeting hadn’t begun, you didn’t want him sitting at the table, and he honestly didn’t want to be there. None of this shit has mattered for years, and it didn’t hold a candle next to you. He’d much rather be tangled up in you with his head buried between your thighs drawing out those sweet whimpers that drive him crazy than listening to their next mistake.

“Where is Barton, and how come his sister is walking around like she owns the damn place?” An annoyed voice griped from the back of the room, Bucky wasn’t sure who said it, but they were about to regret ever opening their damn mouth. He sat up, and Sam’s hand was on his chest shoving him back into his seat before anyone could take notice -- Steve noticed of course.

Punk never does miss anything.

“Clint is dealing with some family shit that isn’t anyone’s business and as for Y/n,” Steve glanced at Bucky, waiting for the okay before continuing. “She’s your VP’s old lady, so watch your damn mouth and show her the same respect you give Peggy.”

Everyone's head jerked over to Bucky who didn’t say a word, just gave a slight nod to the room and turned to face Steve. He wasn’t talking about you or whatever was happening between the two of you in this room. Ever again. His relationship was not club business any longer.

“Right,” Steve said, club president demeanor in place. “Now that all of that is out in the open, can we focus on club business? Red Skulls are dipping their hands into things I can’t let slide -- selling guns to kids and trading their girls for weapons and information on their enemies. Primarily us and our families. This has been a long time coming. They have threatened everyone sitting at this table, and it’s time we take them down before they hurt anyone else.”

“Agreed?” Steve looked around at a room of nodding heads -- everyone but Bucky. Didn’t matter anyway, when Steve called for a vote it was simple numbers, and Bucky was the odd man out.

“On to our bigger issue,” Bucky frowned and finally looked over at Steve.

Bigger issues? What the hell is more significant than taking down another club?

“We’ve got a rat within our ranks, or that's the way it looks at least."

--------

The girls were great, and you loved Peggy, truly did, but you couldn't sit idly by in the clubhouse while they voted on your life and Buckys. Yeah, you didn’t know what the vote was, but there was always a vote. It may not be directly tied to you, but every choice they made in that room affected every aspect of your lives.

Peggy was wrapped up talking to Pepper; you took your chance and snuck out the backdoor to get some air. You briefly thought about waiting on Bucky’s bike, so he knew where you were but decided against it. It would just make it easier for the girls to find you and, you needed a break. So, you snuck off to hide in your jeep.

Bucky would find you. He always finds you.

"Hey, pretty girl." 

That wasn’t Bucky. 

Your entire body stiffened at the sound of another man's voice saying those words to you. That was Bucky's and Bucky's alone. It felt dirty coming from someone else, and you really didn’t like the way Eddie Brock said it.

"Eddie. How are you?" You greeted and let him ramble on about while you subtly kept your eyes on the clubhouse. Eddie knew what he was doing. No one just showed up there without an invitation and certainly not someone who was kicked out by the club’s vice president.

"Y/n?" You blinked and refocused on Eddie.

"You okay?" He asked with such concern you almost believed he cared.

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry." You cleared your throat and gestured back to the clubhouse. "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend. You know the one. He broke your nose and kicked you out?”

Eddie placed his hand on Jeep, caging you between his arms, and you suppressed a shiver that was threatening to reveal your fear. You wouldn’t give him the pleasure. Eddie bent forward and whispered in your ear, "You shouldn't get involved with this club, Y/n. You don't know what they are capable of. Especially your boyfriend."

You huffed a humorless laugh and shook your head. He’s got a lot of nerve, you’d give him that. Here he was telling you what your Bucky was like? He couldn't imagine the things you knew, and he had no idea what your boyfriend was capable of, but he was about to find out precisely what your boyfriend was like.

Eddie was walking a trembling tightrope that was about to snap under him.

"I know exactly what he is and if I were you, I wouldn’t be here when those doors open, or Bucky will be the least of your problems.”

Try fifteen angry bikers. That was never a pleasant sight.

"Lemme take a guess why you're out here all alone, waiting for him to put you first? He had to rush off because Steve summoned him. Trouble with the club and left you here, alone, to handle business? You deserve better than this life.” Eddie slipped a small white card in your hand and stepped back from you.

"Do you really know him, Y/n? Think about it and give me a call when you’re ready to talk.”

You watched Eddie slink off fiddling with the piece of paper in your trembling hands waiting until he was out of sight to look at whatever he handed you. You unfolded the paper he gave you and tour stomach sank when you read it. Eddie Brock was a detective.

Eddie was never trying to patch in -- he had no interest in joining the club, his only interest was bringing it down, and from the looks of things, he was going to use you to do it.

Previous // Next 

[darkfairy-tales]

Inception - Chapter Five

Description: As an omega, Hongjoong was always treated wrongly in his pack. So when he is forced to be with an alpha who wasn't his mate he runs away. With little to no idea on where to go. With a small hope of finding his mate.

Character: ATEEZ, EXO, THEBOYZ, etc

Pairing: Ateez x Hongjoong, Hongjoong centric

Warning: Mentions of blood, violence, etc

"This can't be... I-I can't be.." Hongjoong chokes out. He suddenly felt like he couldn't breath. Seonghwa quickly walks over to hold the smaller male. "Shh it's okay. It's okay. Calm down." He says in a soft tone. "I can't be a hybrid. No.. Hakjoon. I thought he was... my dad. W-why would mom hide my real father from me?" Hongjoong sobs out. Others look at their small mate as he cried. All Seonghwa could do was hug the smaller male and comfort him through words. After Hongjoong had calmed down a bit Mingi took the smaller from Seonghwa holding him close. "Is there... is there anything more?" Hongjoong asked sniffing. "The next pages are empty. I don't think your mom wrote anything more." Yeosang says. The remaining pages were blank.

"Why wasn't my own father there for me? Why did mom lied to me? Why?" Hongjoong asks to no one in particular. "There are no answers. But we can track down the witch Choi Haeju. If she is even alive that is." Jongho says sighing. "How do we even track her? It's not like we used to know her or something." San says frustrated ruffling his hair. "..Baekhyun hyung! Maybe he can help us." Mingi suggest. Hongjoong looks at him questioningly. "You are right. Baekhyun hyung is half witch. So he might know Choi Haeju or know someone who in turn knows Choi Haeju. Also we need to know about vampire wolf hybrids. Baekhyun hyung's help is what we need." Seonghwa said. "I will call them." Wooyoung offers as he goes away to call Baekhyun.

EXO pack house members comes shortly after they were informed that Hongjoong and others needed their help. They all sat on the living room. Some on the couch. Others on the floor as Seonghwa explained to everyone what had happened and what they have found out. Baekhyun was shocked. "But luna.. we never knew luna even had another mate." Baekhyun says his eyes wide. "How could she let anyone know... You know how it was between vampire and werewolves at that time." Sehun mumbles. Baekhyun sighs. "Finding the said witch is easy. But I am more worried about Hongjoong." Baekhyun says looking at Hongjoong with a concerned look. "Why?" Seonghwa asked. "You know how powerful half vampire and half wolf can be from all the stories you guys might have heard. But as it says. Most of the child dies at young age. Their fragile body unable to handle the power coursing through them." Baekhyun says taking a breath in.

"But they are more dangerous. Not just because of the powers. But also because being a mate of a vampire and werewolf hybrid means you get more power too. What I am trying to say is. When you all complete the mating process you all will become stronger than you already are. It is a blessing but it is also a curse. Years ago when a vampire wolf hybrid is born and if they were able to live until the age where they mature then people would fight. To have them as their. So that they can get the power which comes with being a vampire wolf hybrid's mate." Baekhyun says leaving everyone stunned. "The last known vampire wolf hybrid who was able to live till the day of maturation was from 200 years ago. He died after his mate died." Chanyeol says frowning. "Do you think someone knows? That I am half vampire..." Hongjoong asked nervous. "I don't think so. I mean even you didn't knew about yourself." Jongin says. "Unless. Someone managed to find out your mother had two mates. One of their being a vampire. And that you were the vampire's son." Kyungsoo says.

"Should I tell you about your father? Lee Seokjoon?" Minseok asked Hongjoong hesitantly. "You know about him?" The younger asked. "I don't know much to be honest. I only know that he is still alive. Till now. And it raises the question on why he never tried to find you. We can only know more when we find Choi Haeju." Minseok says sadly. "Hyung do you really think I have a vampire blood in me? It's just... I just never had any signs of me being half vampire." Hongjoong says frowning trying to think of anything weird. "I think your parents kept your vampire side surpressed. In order to keep your identity hidden." Chen answers. Hongjoong nods in understanding. "So let's start some investigation shall we." Suho says trying to lighten up the mood a bit. "I will go outside and call all my witch friends one by one and ask them about Choi Haeju. Chanyeol. Sehun follow me. You two are going to help." Baekhyun says as he goes out with Sehun and Chanyeol following behind. "Come on up with me Hongjoong. Let's have some private time." Kyungsoo says smiling. Hongjoong nods standing up helping the heavily pregnant male upstairs to his room while other stayed behind.

"Hmm they prepared your room so well." Kyungsoo hums impressed as he looks around the room. Hongjoong smiles. "Yeah they made sure everything were to my liking." He says. "Come on sit down." Kyungsoo says as he sat down on the bed patting on the space beside him. Hongjoong obeys sitting down beside the older. "What do you think about the boys till now?" Kyungsoo asked referring to Seonghwa and the other six alphas. "They are really nice. I am glad that I have them as my mates. They are everything I could ask for." Hongjoong says with a blush. "That they are. They are going to start wanting to mate you anytime now. But don't mate with them all at once. Mating bite is too hard to handle. And you can't get seven mating bites all at once. It will be too much for your body and for your wolf. So go for one at a time." Kyungsoo advices. Hongjoong nods.

Kyungsoo breathes out as he rubs his baby bump. "I swear I am never going to let Jongin touch me after this." He grumbled when he felt the baby kick hard. Hongjoong laughs at that. "What is pregnancy like?" He asks curious. "Both heaven and hell. Knowing that you are carrying a child. A symbol of the love between you and your mate. The feeling is amazing. Knowing that the child is your and your mate's blood. When I look at myself in the mirror I feel proud of myself. I feel happy knowing that me and mate have went through lots of hardship and thatnwe finally having a family of our own. It's heaven. But then it's hell. The pain that comes with pregnancy. The exhaustion. The mood swings. Yet all of these are going to be worth it at the end. I am excited to welcome our baby into this world." Kyungsoo says with a smile.

Hongjoong looks at the older and he feels the need to have a baby of himself. "I wish to be mother too." He mumbles. "You will be a great one that I am sure." Kyungsoo says. "Can I touch?" Hongjoong asked referring to the baby bump. "Oh yes of course." Kyungsoo said nodding. Hongjoong brought his hands up placing it on the baby bump. His eyes widening when he felt the baby kick right against his hands. "Woah so active. What's the gender?" He asks in wonder. "It's a girl." Kyungsoo says smiling. "She is going to be everyone's sweetheart." Hongjoong chuckles. "And stuck with a overprotective father who will scare away her mate." Kyungsoo says both of then bursting out laughing at the thought.

Suddenly the door opens and Baekhyun comes running inside. "I have found! Choi Haeju." he said, a victorious smile on his face as he showed them the address where Haeju was staying. Hongjoong didn't knew how to react. He was happy that they found her but also nervous to find out whatever he was going to find out about his parents and himself. 'I am going to face whatever it is. I have my alphas with me.' He thought to himself. Feeling better knowing that he was not going to be alone. "Let's go now. I want to talk to her today. Now." Hongjoong says. He was going to find out what had happened to his parents no matter what.

[Inception Masterlist]

Hello guys! I am so sorry for posting so late! I got really busy with my classes. Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please don't forget to like and reblog this!

I will try to update again fast. But I am not too sure. My exam is coming up so I might have to update my story slowly. But stay tuned for the next chapter! Love you all. Buii~ 💜💜

[jadeile-writes]

Fanfic Progress Update 70

Greetings, my loyal followers~ It’s Saturday, so let’s do a progress update. Stay tuned to the end of this post for a spoiler-y glimpse into the next chapter of Adventure gone Mini AND the next Radiohusk drabble I’ll post sometime next week!

Current WIPs:

Adventure gone Mini

Fandom: Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild / The Minish Cap

Summary: Sidon is given his very own Sheikah Slate, the first replica Purah has managed to make, and sets out to travel with Link with the intention of registering warp points for convenient travel in the future. However, when a malfunction shrinks them down to the size of bugs, and they meet little people called the Minish, they have to change their plans from “fun adventuring” to “getting out of this mess”. Not that those two have to exclude one another. Link/Sidon.

Progress: Chapter 40 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 17th of June. Chapter 41 is 1/3rd written and the scheduled posting date is 15th of July.

I post a new chapter every three weeks on Wednesdays. These updates always include a sneak-peek for the next chapter, slowly getting longer over the three weeks waiting period.

—–

That month of the year

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Progress: I’m shelving this one indefinitely. It’s obviously not working out right now, so I’m better off writing something else and hopefully coming back to this at a later point in time.

—–

Experiment in Romance

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary (temporary): Husk’s afterlife takes an odd turn when a drunk Alastor knocks on his door and has no intention of going to his own room for the night. It only gets weirder from there, leaving Husk with a most unexpected arrangement with the Radio Demon. Either it’ll be the best decision in his afterlife, or he’s simply out to break his own damn heart dealing with the fickle asshole. Radiohusk.

Progress: Chapters 1 and 2 are done, though I will need to check them out to see if they’re still good to go, as it’s been a while. Chapter 3 has been started, but the same applies. I’m tentatively bringing this one up here now that I’m dropping That Month, but we shall see if this becomes the project I’ll work on next or not.

—–

Hah! Our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: This is not a stand-alone story! This is a oneshot/drabble collection in the universe of “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”. Read the main story before bothering with this one.

I decided to give my readers a chance to throw Radiohusk prompts at me, and had the Afterlife-verse as an option to set the stories in. Everyone liked that, so this fic is now a thing. Enjoy the extra mischief from these two dorks!

Progress: Chapter 20 is the current latest chapter and was posted on 26th of June. Chapter 21 hasn’t been started, but the scheduled posting date is 3rd of July. A sneak-peek will be posted on Thursday.

I have 16 prompts left.

This fic receives a new chapter every Friday.

—–

Secret drabbles and ficlets!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: I’ve occasionally written completely random drabbles and shared them with a bunch of friends without posting them on AO3 or here. I’d like to rectify that and start posting them here at random for everyone to read. I won’t be posting them on AO3 because I don’t want to, so keeping an eye on this blog is even more rewarding than before for a while.

Progress: I have one drabble at the moment and I shall post it next week. I also have a few nearly finished ones that I’ll probably get done sooner or later, but since I don’t know when that happens I shall remove this thing from the list next week, unless the drabbles get done in time for this to stay relevant.

Here’s a bonus secret: I have a couple of things I won’t be posting here, because I don’t want them reblogged around - one that is unfinished and not likely to be finished at all (and which I would post on AO3 if I did finish it) and one that is slightly risque (by my very very ace standards, lol). I’ll eventually post them on the Radiohusk Discord server, if you want to see them. Asking me via DM might also work.

—–

Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to someday:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

That month of the year (Hazbin Hotel)

—–

That’s it for the WIPs! Here are the promised sneak-peeks into Adventure gone Mini and the random Hazbin drabble (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Mini

"I give you my tentative blessing to explore the shrine when you return, mister hero", Festari of the Abbey said once the children had been extracted from Link’s person and sent away. Again. This time Link wasn't actually expecting them to be truly gone; he liked to believe he learned from his mistakes most of the time. "However, we will have to have a serious talk about your conduct and carried weaponry when that time comes. I will not allow the shrine to be destroyed because of an unneeded exploration by a hero who isn't doing this for a grander purpose than curiosity. Are those a acceptable terms for you?"

—–

Random drabble

"I told you to leave me the fuck alone if you're not going to buy something", Husk growled, and leaned backwards to avoid Angel Dust's grabby hands. "Oh come on! I'm not even reaching for your ass, I just want to touch your ears", Angel Dust said, and wiggled his perfectly plucked eyebrows. "I'll even let you touch this in return."

—–

That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

AO3    FFnet    Purple Crayon    Ko-fi     Radiohusk Discord

[ds-ts-smut-fics]

Sweet on You [Chapter One]

Summary: Moxiety sugar daddy/sugar baby au [Daddy Patton, baby Virgil, transboy Virgil, switch Virgil, dom Patton, fwb analogical, romantic moxiety, sympathetic Deceit, romantic loginceit], hurt/comfort

Trigger warnings: Nsfw, “female” body parts described on Virgil, everyone- including virgil -jokingly calls Virgil a slut, lmk if i missed anything

A/N: Writing this fic rp style with my dom, @mirror2thespirit. We’re posting twice a week, on Saturdays and Wednesdays. Reblog pls and let us know what you think!

The restaurant is very fancy, everything on the menu is extremely expensive, and Patton is eating there for free. In front of him, sits one of the handsomest men Patton has ever met… and yet... Patton is not having a good time. 

While stirring his food listlessly, he tries to smile and enjoy the story that the enthusiastic thespian before him is spinning, but he knows it’s likely falling flat. 

“-and I thought I was going to be kicked off the cast!” Roman cries, laughing. He very suddenly notices Patton’s expression, though, and frowns. “Hey, are you okay?” 

Jumping a little, Patton offers a soft and weak giggle, "I'm fine, daddy!"

“You know, Patton…” Roman smiles, reaching over and taking his hand. “I know it’s only our second date, but I’m thinking… Maybe we aren’t the best fit.” 

Giggling nervously even as he lightly flinches, Patton sips the wine before nodding a little, "O-Oh? I'm sorry…"

“Sweetheart, you’re perfect,” he insists, kissing his knuckles. “But you don’t seem very happy. And you know, I don’t think I’m quite fit to be a daddy. It was worth a shot, but I don’t think it’s for me.”

A genuine smile spreads across Patton's lips. "You are a bit more happy when you're getting pampered rather than being the gift giver, true." Roman sputters a little but acknowledges the truth with a blush. "Yeah… but there's nothing wrong with that! I’ll get the check,” he said, “and I can thank you for your time. I really enjoyed being with you! Maybe we can keep in touch?” 

Nodding happily, Patton grins, bouncing a little in his seat. "I'd like that! While we don't click as a couple, I think you're a lovely friend, Roman. Thank you!" 

“I wish us both luck in finding a daddy!” He said, a bit too loud. He blushed as some people looked at him strangely.

Paying the check, he leads them outside, giving Patton a soft kiss before writing out another check, this one for Patton. 

Blushing as he takes the check, Patton hugs him, "I know you'll find someone perfect for you... and I think maybe I'm not meant to be a baby, just like you aren't really a daddy."

Looking concerned, he frowns. “But how could you be a daddy without money?”

"I, I don't know… but I like to care and protect rather than be showered with things?" He shrugs. "I'll figure it out, I guess."

“Well…” He forced a smile. “I hope it works out!” He didn’t seem that hopeful. “Shall I call you a taxi?” 

Leaning up, he kisses Roman's cheek, "That would be lovely…. thank you, Ro!"

Roman smiled and called Patton a taxi, giving the driver the address of Patton’s college. 

“See you soon, hopefully!”

Waving, Patton slides into the car, "Hope so! Have a great show run, RoRo!" 

Kicking off his shoes in his dorm once he arrives, Patton rubs his face. Slumping at his desk, he opens the website, scrolling through the available entries, updating his own profile to switch from 'in a relationship' to 'looking' and 'baby' to 'daddy'. Adding a little paragraph about his situation, he hits 'submit' and pushes back from the desk a little. Here goes nothing, I guess?

***

Virgil got home late. 

Logan was waiting in his apartment, as he usually was. Virgil came over to the couch and flopped down with his face in Logan’s lap. 

Laughing, Logan pets his hair. "Long day, V?"

“Not the day,” he mumbled. “Just got back from another date. Another poor little broken gay kid from some people my parents know.”

Wincing a bit, Logan sighs. "You know… maybe we should try and find you someone from outside this little fishbowl your parents keep digging in? You're basically looking for a sugar daddy, just you've got plenty of sugar!" 

“Hear me out.” Virgil raised his head a little. “The sex is good. I love the sex, actually. But I’m just- I’m really sick of all these guys and their internalized homophobia for only one night. I want- I want a boyfriend, Lo. Only- Without the commitment.” 

Nodding, Logan pulls out his phone. "I get that, I do! See, these guys are basically auditioning for exactly what they're willing to do… One night and on up to permanent, sex or just gifts and affection, you can get exactly what you want if you just make an account, they'll court you!"

“For the love of God, Logan,” he groaned, “I’m not getting on your stupid sugar forum! My parents would kill me.” 

"What can it hurt? They'll never have to know, and if it doesn't work… just delete! One week, just try it, V?"

He hesitated, resting his head back in his friend’s lap. If his parents found out… It would be the end of him. But otherwise, Logan was right. He’s seen Logan’s profile- There was a place to write exactly what you were looking for in the relationship. This forum was where most people went for unusual arrangements. 

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

“Fine,” he sighs. “Help me set up a profile.” 

Grinning broadly, Logan hugs him close, "Of course!"

Virgil sat up, pulling his laptop off the coffee table. Taking it, he boots it up and finds the site, starting the process to sign up, "Okay… here we go! I'll type if you give me the data!"

“Well, you know all that.” Virgil gestured to the first section. 

Name: Virgil Hearst

Sex & gender: Afab, male (he/him) 

Age: 22 

"Well, do you want a screen name? Might get more or less interest if they don't know who they're chatting with?" Shrugging, he taps the other line. 

“Hm… You pick,” he said. 

Smirking, Logan giggles and taps the 'hide name/ set screen name,' typing 'Anxiety' as a screen name. "How's that?"

“God, that is funny.” He snorted. “Yeah, that’s good.”

Copying Virgil's little two finger salute, he smirks, "Yup! Next section... location and preferences!" 

Virgil wrote down his general location, and checked the box next to “baby.” He checked the box that said he was bisexual as well.

"Forgot one! Age range of people you want to be your daddy, or mommy, I guess! Oh, and how far of a range you're willing to go out to meet them… " 

“Not far,” he mumbled. He typed in 25 miles, and thought for a moment, before typing a 15 year gap at most. 

"Nice! Okay… no picture for obvious reasons. Pick an icon at least? And, time to write up a profile statement of course!" Logan claps a little, happy for his friend.

He took the laptop from him, fingers hovering over the keys. 

I’m looking for an abnormal arrangement, he wrote. 

While I want to be the baby in the relationship, I’m looking to offer the money. 

Virgil’s brain froze. He couldn’t think of how to continue, so he groaned, shoved the computer back at Logan, and said, “Your turn.”

Gently rolling his eyes, Logan types, 

I'm looking for an affectionate individual who wants to spend my money to pamper and treat me well. Regular sex is preferred, so long as there's other activities as well. I have an high libido, and am looking for someone who can keep up with it. 

“Just wait until I get on testosterone,” Virgil chuckled. 

Poking him in the side, Logan grins, "You'll be a fiend then! You're already a fucking slut!"

“God, I’ll be ravenous.” He looked at the profile nervously. “Is that all?” 

"Hmmm… Maybe… oh! Did you want to include any other kinks on there?" 

“You can just put that I’ll try anything,” he said. “Also, uh… Daddy kink, obviously, praise kink, uh… I don’t know, Lo, what other kinks do I have?” 

Laughing softly, he reads out loud as he types, "Kinky bastard who's willing to try anything once if you talk to me pretty enough.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that‘s accurate.” 

Smiling, Logan reads it over. "Looks good! Anything to change before we go live?"

Virgil almost told him to delete the whole thing. He wasn’t sure about this… “Let’s go.”

Squeezing Virgil's hand, he smiles, "You'll be fine… the right one is out there!" Pressing the 'save and post' button, he grins. 

“I get horny when I’m anxious,” Virgil grumbled, squirming. 

Logan rolls his eyes. “You get horny when you breathe. Want some help or a toy?"

“Yeah,” he said plainly. “If you’re up for it, fuck me.” 

Setting the laptop to the side, he kisses his friend on the mouth, pushing him down on the couch. "Gladly, V… but you're wearing too many clothes!"

Virgil grinned, biting Logan’s lip. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

He chuckles as he slides their clothes off, groping Virgil lightly. "Slut… should I get a condom for this? How needy are you?"

“Don’t bother,” he pants. “Want you in the back tonight.”

Grinning, he lets his fingers slide over Virgil's ass as he switches positions to pin him to the fabric of the couch, sliding a finger inside slowly. "Mmm~"

Virgil spread his legs, relaxing back against the couch and sighing. 

Slowly fucking him open on more fingers, he uses his thumb to rub at Virgil's clit. "So handsome… almost jealous of your daddy!"

Virgil whined, grinding against him. “Right,” he pants. “If I even get one.” 

"You will!" He sucks lightly on Virgil's neck, he slides a third finger inside with a low hum.

“Just fuck me,” he groaned, wrapping his legs around Logan’s waist. 

Pressing a little harder against Virgil's clit, he smirks, sliding the fingers out to press inside, thrusting slowly, "Always so needy~!"

“Ah, yes,” he whimpered, meeting his thrusts. “Harder, Lo!”

Spanking him, he grins and speeds up his thrusts. "Going to fuck you brainless, V~!"

He moaned. “Yes, yes…” 

Rubbing at Virgil's clit as he fucks him hard, he sucks a mark into the arched neck. Virgil let out a whimper as he came, his back arching. 

Moaning out, Logan gasps, cumming hard into Virgil. “Oh! Oh, fuuuck, V~!"

Virgil sunk back against the couch, sighing. He felt immediately better after coming- Lighter, and more relaxed. 

He held Logan close to him. “Thanks, Lo,” he whispered. 

Cuddling him, he grins, kissing Virgil's lips softly. "Anytime! Feel better?"

“Much better. You spending the night?” 

"I can, sure!" Going to pull out, he grin. "Besides, you might need more comfort!"

Virgil cracked his back and sat up, yawning. “Come on, you dork. Let’s go to bed.” 

He didn’t bother with his clothes, grabbing Logan’s hand and leading him up to the bedroom. 

And his phone, forgotten on the coffee table, buzzed with a new message from the sugar forum.