#winged cloud op

[morgenlich]

fascinating to see both the far right and the far left blame jews/israel for hurricanes but for different reasons. it's like convergent evolution of antisemitism

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 300

Danny squirms and hisses, trying to dig his claws into dark scales as the clouds whistle by. “Wait- Ancients dammit- STOP!” he shrieked, cursing how tiny his own ghost form was compared to his other not-quite-future-self. Wings that could easily dwarf the entire Ops center beat through the air, fast enough to cause his eyes to sting. 

“Dan- bring me back- stop-” he wailed, despite the grip on his scruff not even loosening. Yet the larger dragon didn’t so much as twitch back towards Amity, the city disappearing into the distance like a speck. “We have to go back-” 

The GIW were- were- They had to go back! The portal was gone (exploded, broken and all of Fentonworks a smoldering mess, oh Ancients he’s gonna be sick-), no one could return to the Realms, they were all sitting ducks- 

“Jordan please-” he begged, even though he already knew that between the city, between every other ghost and them, Dan would always choose to keep them safe. But Jazz was hurt, she wasn’t waking up from where she lay limply cradled in Dan’s claws. 

There was so much blood, and he only knew she was still alive from the weak fluttering of her core, growing stronger as her heartbeat faded. She needed help, she needed doctors- he doesn’t know if she would be able to come back, not with how they were leaving the ecto-rich city behind and he didn’t want to lose her- Dan’s blank panic was swamping his own, drowning both of them in the emotion as the dragon tore through the sky. Some part of him knew they couldn’t stay in Amity anymore, but- But Jazz needed help- Danny couldn’t help the tears that dripped from his yes, pretending it was merely the clouds as they flew to places unknown to him.

If you are interested in their designs, here is a link: HERE

Heey mutual @radiance1 Dragon buddy o' mine & @hdgnj u might enjoy

[raayllum]

Timeline season things thanks to the new pictures

So we know early on in the season, presumably, Ezran and Corvus arrive in Katolis and have reunited with Callum (who has likely flown from the Moon Nexus to Katolis to check on his home/brother) and are riding Aegis and Embertail, Janai and Amaya's hotcat mounts. They will likely also reunite with Soren and Opeli here.

We also know at one point that Ez, Rayla, Runaan, Aanya, and presumably most everyone else ends up at the Banther Lodge thanks to these images.

We also know that Rayla (and Runaan) are going to go to the Silvergrove, where Rayla meets with some kind of Keeper for some kind of Moonshadow trial. I'd place this around 7x03 or 7x04 latest.

With the latest image in mind, we can construct some other details.

I thought at first glance that this picture was depicting the journey to back Katolis, given that Ezran and Aanya are there on said hotcats and Corvus is there. However, Soren is also there (riding with Corvus) which means that it can't be on the way from Lux Aurea to Katolis (at least not the premiere trip), so it must come after.

Whatever they're flying to is either something they're worried about, or something that looks worrisome from the sky. Callum is also not in shot, but he could just be flying with his wings > needing a mount. An alternative is that he went with Rayla and Runaan to the Silvergrove, and perhaps Ezran and co. are travelling there to reunite with them, or even checking up on Zubeia.

Things that could worry them from the Sky:

Visibly destroyed or corrupted places, such as the Moon Nexus, Silvergrove (broken barrier?), or even the Midnight Desert (though I don't think there'd be that many clouds if that was the case). This could even be the place with mushrooms where Zubeia is resting, since Soren and Corvus know the way + Aaravos could have incentive to interrupt her healing, but Zym isn't in shot with them either, so... maybe? I think the Silvergrove could make a lot of sense and be time effective, so we'll just have to see.

[kinley-cafe]

Kinley Café Current Menu

The menu may change based on the season or special holiday. Text version with full menu and item descriptions can be found below the cut

ORDER NOW

CONTACT DISPATCH

Drinks

🔥 "You Still Owe Me that Beer" Float  A deliciously tart and creamy root beer float made with quality craft beer and decadent French vanilla ice cream. This delightful treat comes with one turnout straw and one flight suit straw. 🔥 Fake Mouth Static Sparkling Tea  Extra fizzy kshhh butterfly tea ksshhh with honey, berries ksshhh and a helicopter ice cube 🔥 Cat 5 hurricane Cappuccino A rich and creamy cappuccino in a (possibly stolen) LAFD Helicopter themed mug.  🔥 “I took a guess” Mystery Coffee  Not like that. It’s definitely not what you want, but Buck tried his best and that’s all that matters. It's a random coffee with undisclosed, completely random ingredients, served in a green to-go coffee cup wrapped in a cardboard coffee cup sleeve, decorated all over with brown hearts and flames. 🔥“That Fire Was A Beast” thirst quencher  Hydrating strawberry dragon fruit, topped with whipped cream and soot colored chocolate drizzle. Served in a fire hydrant cup.

🔥 “You’re a vision” Birthday Cake Hot Chocolate A flirty and festive Belgian hot chocolate served in a red and blue cup, topped with a cloud of confetti whipped cream.

🔥 Buck’s Cozy Cup of Tea A nice, hot cup of black tea with lemon and honey. Each cup is wrapped securely with an (un)official LAFD crocheted cozy.

🔥 Harbor Station Pumpkin Spice Latte A mix of delicious traditional fall spices, topped with whipped cream and cinnamon. It’s served in a special Air Ops Winged Cup with a golden pumpkin stirrer.

🔥 Saturday Sparkling Cider A warm malted cider, with all the Saturday Night craft flavor, and none of the alcohol. Served at room temperature so it’s not too hot, and not too cold. It’s just what you’re ready for.

Desserts

🔥 118 Cream Donut Bavarian Cream Donuts with fire engine red strawberry frosting and ember sprinkles.

🔥 Flying Lessons Fudge Bon Bons Delicious fudge-filled bon bons molded with a headset and wrapped in a pilot jumpsuit colored wrapper.

🔥 Are We Still Talking About Cake? Layered Vanilla cake with Strawberries, buttercream icing and a candy LAFD logo. Go ahead and take it to your table. So you can eat it.

🔥 Open Channel Chocolate Muffin Chocolate muffins topped with cream cheese frosting and chocie talkies (chocolate walkie talkie shaped chips) 🔥“I’m An Ally” Cookie Bar Delicious copycat Italian cookie bars with bisexual flag layers. Made for any ally, or…more than an ally.

🔥 Date Night Cookie Pizza A delicious skillet cookie pizza topped with ice cream strawberries and. A perfect treat for your (hopefully) uninterrupted first date.

🔥 “Be With Your Man” Brown Sugar Mug Cake This warm and delicious brown sugar mug cake captures the ambiance of Buck and Tommy’s cozy dinner at home. The patterns on the cup are inspired by items from Buck’s dinner table.

🔥 Adorable Apple Pie Super sweet mini apple pies baked by Tommy as an ode to Buck and just how adorable he is. Each one is baked in a turnout tin and brushed with strawberry jam to resemble Buck’s birthmark.

🔥 Firefighter’s Flaming Candy Apple A sweet, sugar candy coated California grown Gala apple, decorated with a blazing flame.

Buck’s Happy Hour

🔥“I am free” This eye opener cocktail is a refreshing and invigorating beverage that features rich coffee with deep, malty notes of stout that lingers in your mouth, much like the sweet taste of a first kiss. It combines vodka, cold-brew coffee, coffee liqueur, stout beer, and a sweet brown-sugar syrup. Garnished with heart shaped mint.

🔥The 24 Hour Shift A highly caffeinated, creamy cocktail with sweet and smooth flavors, made to keep you going for hours. This cocktail is blended with nitro brew, bourbon, brown sugar, and half and half, topped with whipped cream and a cinnamon stick. 🔥Intermittent Showers This cocktail is excitement in a glass. A rush of sweet, smooth and fizz, made with cold-brew coffee, club soda, berry infused rum, simple syrup, topped with silver storm cloud whipped topping and a mini chocolate helicopter.

🔥The “Tommy, Actually” Made with craft beer and espresso to combine strong, bold coffee with the rich flavors of beer, featuring the unexpected sweetness of the heavy cream, coffee liqueur, and whipped topping. Topped with whipped cream and Edible gold Air Ops Pilot Wings.

Anytime Menu

🔥 The Q Word Have you been jinxed? Order one of these special to-go combos to help you get through the chaos ahead.

🔥 “Badass Coffee Mug” Ready to go up? Order this combo whenever you’re in the mood  for a Harbor Station tour from a hot pilot to put a smile on your face.

🔥 “I Need Mo Joe” Looking for a little comfort? Maybe a certain adorable  firefighter can whip up a firehouse family combo for you

Call Dispatch (send an ask) anytime you’re looking for a little pick-me-up and put in an order for one of these combos. 

[frampersaand]

i was so mesmerized by the colours of this little critter i had to drop what i was doing and try to throw some scries together :D

apologies for any errors in colour matching, i did this on my phone which is on nightlight mode :)

top left: boa / trail / points

top right: chrysocolla / freckle / contour

bottom left: chrysocolla / freckle / flecks

bottom right: chrysocolla / saturn / contour

Just hatched the craziest hatch, if anyone has scry suggestions I’d love to see them! :D

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 4 - Left Hand Woman

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Read on AO3

Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Gryphon time, A spot of magic, No one knows how to communicate, I've given up on any semblance of reader neutrality, sorry, Sweetpea is her own woman and you are just along for the ride, Farah is here now! We love Farah

~7.2k words - MDNI

Someone sends a young woman from the staff to help you dress the next morning. She’s shy and mousy-haired, and you have to ask her what her name is twice before she haltingly tells you that it’s Tiphanie. She goes entirely pink when you tell her that you think it’s a very pretty name, and that you hope you’re not pulling her away from anything more important.

“I’ve been tidyin’ your room, highness,” she says turning even pinker. “Or, um, tryin’ to. You leave things so neat there’s been nothin’ for me to be doin’.”

“I’m used to living on my own,” you explain. “I’ve been in charge of keeping my own space tidy for years now.”

“On your own?” Tiphanie asks, aghast. “But your wicked father sold you away to the giants in the mountains so they’d help him in the war, and they kept you in a cage and made you sing to them like a songbird, until Sir Ghost came flyin’ in on his gryphon and rescued you.”

Is that how they’ve explained your absence? You unwrap your hair, laughing. “Oh goodness, no. I was living in a town not all that far from here. Out in the country. Not sold off or captured by anyone.”

“Well, then what was sir Ghost gone so long for, if he wasn’t travellin’ through the wastes and fightin’ monsters lookin’ for you?” she asks, blinking at the cloud of tightly curled hair you’ve let down, like she’s not entirely sure if she should be doing something about it. “He’s been gone three years, and then he came back with you— If you’re tryin’ to put on a brave face about it, I understand, highness, but what you’re sayin’ don’t make any sense. You wouldn’t’ve stayed away so long if you was just a few towns away.”

It’s a bit funny that she’s so insistent that it makes more sense that you’d been held captive in the distant mountains than simply living your life peacefully close by, but you have to admit, it’s certainly the more compelling story. “Well, the giants made me keep my own room tidy,” you say, splitting your hair into three segments so you can braid it down your back in one thick plait. “I only had to sit in the birdcage when they were entertaining guests.”

“I knew—” she cuts herself off with a little yelp, catching sight of movement at the window.

You glance over, and it’s just Nox, landed on the balcony, shaking her wings out. “Thank you for your help, Tiphanie,” you say, smiling at her reassuringly. “I should say hello to Nox.”

She nods, wide-eyed, and gives you a wobbly curtsy as you step out to the balcony.

“Hello, my darling,” you croon to Nox, holding your arms out. She presses herself against your chest, making a strange, warbling purr as you scratch behind her tufted ears. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you yesterday, pretty girl.”

If she's offended by your negligence, she doesn’t hold a grudge. She hops backward and gently tugs at one of the loose curls around your face, cawing happily at the way it bounces back into shape when she lets go, wiggling her wings a little playfully.

“Sweetpea, we’re down ‘ere, whenever you’re ready,” Ghost calls up from the courtyard. When you look over the edge, you can see that all four of them are down there, sitting around a table you hadn’t noticed before. “Nox’ll ‘op down with you.”

“One second,” you tell Nox, giving her one last scratch under the chin before you dash back inside for the book Kyle lent you. When you return to the balcony, she kneels down enough that you can climb onto her back carefully, and straightens up once you’re settled in place. Inky black wings spread out on either side of you, and she jumps into the air, headed upwards rather than down like you expected, her strong legs landing lightly and launching off the low roof on the other side of the courtyard, wings catching the wind. Your stomach plummets on her first leap, and you grip the saddle tightly, terror closing your throat tightly against the scream that builds up inside your chest.

Wind rushes in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat the next loudest thing. You take a steadying breath and open your eyes to a picture of the castle, and the city beyond, laid out below you, towers as small as a child’s toy blocks, the river coiled around the eastern bank of the city, glittering like a serpent in the morning light. Nox’s wings are huge fully spread out, and when you twist in the saddle, you see that her back legs are stretched out behind, her big paws tilting one way or the other, adjusting her flight the way a true raven’s tail feathers would. She tips her whole body slightly to the side, starting a slow, circling descent, calling out joyfully, her rough croaks echoing eerily back to you, the sound bouncing off of the stone below. For a moment, it sounds like there’s a whole flock of gryphons, rather than just Nox.

You wonder if she’s lonely, being the only one here.

Nox settles back in the courtyard and sticks her beak in the fountain while you try to dismount. Your legs don’t fully cooperate, and you slide sideways out of the saddle, the returned grasp of gravity unkind and unrelenting. Solid arms catch you before you hit the ground, scooping you out of the air with one arm behind your back and the other under your knees.

“There you are,” John says soothingly. “You want some tea, love?”

You nod, still too frozen to insist on him putting you down. You’re not certain your legs will hold you.

“Nox, you naughty girl, you were just supposed to ‘op down! What if you’d dropped ‘er, eh? You’d be feelin’ pretty sorry about it now, wouldn’t you?” Ghost scolds the gryphon, standing next to her at the fountain, his hands on his hips. She just uses her beak to splash water at him in response, which earns her a pointed finger. “Oi! Don’t you sass me, you daft bird, she wun’t even buckled in.”

Nox deftly snatches the glove off of his hand and launches herself up to the roof, where she settles in on the tiles and pretends to gnaw on the leather, her cat’s eyes wide as saucers, tail twitching back and forth.

Kyle offers you a cup of tea and a smile that's on the shy side. You thank him, realizing a little too late that John has taken his seat with you still in his lap, his arms looped around you securely. “John,” you say sternly, twisting to look at him. “Did we not talk about this?”

“I don’t believe this was on your list of complaints, actually.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whiskers twitching as he smiles. "Besides, you're trembling. I know I behaved terribly yesterday, but all I want is to take care of you. Are you so afraid that you'll like it?"

"That's not what I'm afraid of. I think people are getting the wrong idea about what my presence here means, and cozying up to you will not help matters." You hold the cup and saucer a little bit apart, so that the rattle of dishes doesn't draw attention to the fact that you really are shaking, and would have spilled all over yourself if the cup was filled all the way up. Not that there would be any disguising the fact from John, the way he wraps around you. "You know that this will only complicate things."

“Did someone say something to you?” John asks.

You take a sip of tea, eyes tracking Ghost as he took the last seat at the table. Typical of them to invite you to a table with only four chairs. “Tiphanie, the girl that was sent to help me this morning? She didn’t say anything outright, but it certainly sounded like she expects that I’ll be staying. And something about me being held captive by giants. And that Ghost was gone for three years? What on earth were you doing all that time?”

Ghost shrugged. “Told you already. Was keepin’ an eye on you.”

“For three years?”

“Started off just droppin’ by, but figured it’d be better to stick around. Was.” He sits back in his chair and folds his hands together. “Din’t ‘ave nothin’ better to be doin’.”

“You did, actually,” John says tiredly. “You were supposed to be the commander of my knights. Had to train Keller up for it instead.”

“An’ ‘e’s a sight better at the job than I’d’ve been,” Ghost replies. “Did you a favour, din’t I?”

“Wouldn’t’ve found Sweetpea without him either,” Kyle points out. “And Alex is much better with people than Ghost has ever been. It probably was for the best.”

You glance at Johnny, uncharacteristically quiet across the the table. He meets your eyes only for a moment, and then looks down at his hands, frowning. You're not sure if this is because of yesterday, or if something else is bothering him. He sneaks another look up, and drops his eyes again immediately when he finds you still watching him.

If it is about yesterday, you're glad that at least one of them has the decency to be ashamed of themselves. Price isn't acting the least bit concerned. His fingers are dug into the top of your thigh firmly, and his thumb keeps tapping a rhythmless pattern against your hip, distracting and wholly inappropriate. Kyle won't quite meet your eyes, but he seems hopeful that you'll let it slide and forgive him if he’s careful to make no further waves.

You'll forgive all three of them from a distance once you go home. You want your life back. You’ll do a better job of seizing that freedom this time— you think you might finally work up the nerve to talk to the blacksmith's tall apprentice, with those coal dark eyes that always soften when he looks at you. You’ve thought him handsome for a long while, despite, or perhaps because of, the scars that ripple over his skin, and now that you know that he hasn't spoken to you because of Ghost's interference, you feel hopeful that he might— Oh. Of course.

It's choking, how tight a leash these men have put on you.

“Was there something that you all needed from me?” you ask stiffly. “Or can I go?”

“You need to eat something, first off,” John says, squeezing your hip lightly. “Then down to the city to have that dress fitted, and to meet with Farah.”

“When I requested a woman to accompany me, I was anticipating a longer stay,” you point out. “I’m sure I’ll be fine without a chaperone for the rest of the day, don’t you?”

“I’d allow that, if you’ll stick close to me.” John’s voice is practically a purr, his lips too close to your ear.

You imagine tossing your cooling tea into his face, which is almost as satisfying as actually doing it would be, and freer from consequence. “I will not.”

He laughs. “Then Farah it is. You’re angry with three of us, and I don’t trust Ghost alone with you.”

“What did I do?” Ghost asked, clearly offended by the notion.

You sigh, and resign yourself to being watched. Even if this Farah person answers to John, you’ll be glad for a few moments away from these unbearably pushy men.

“We can move our little lesson to this afternoon,” Kyle offers, brown eyes hopeful. “And I’d like to join you this morning too. It’s been a while since I popped down to visit Rosie.”

“Why not head there now?” John asks. “Get a visit in, make sure things are in order, and Ghost can bring Sweetpea on Nox in a bit, if she’s up for a proper flight.”

Kyle gets up without objection. “Yes sir. I’ll see you there, Sweetpea.” His eyes linger on yours for a long moment before he turns to go.

You lean forward to set your tea on the table, and push John’s arms away roughly, taking Kyle’s abandoned seat rather than remain in John’s lap for another moment. He smiles serenely when you glare at him from your new perch, as unaffected by your ire as a mountain would be by a single drop of rain.

You regret kissing him. You hate that he’s handsome and smug and insufferable. It frustrates you to end that there’s so much of you that wants to melt under his touch, that there’s a glacial, undeniable give to your resolve. Warmth spreads through you every time he puts his hands on you, every time he gives you that cheeky grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

He gives you one of those smiles as he picks up your abandoned tea cup and sips from it, his mouth where yours had been, watching you so that you know it’s no accident. Yet more heat curls in your belly, like the press of his lips against the rim of the cup can still reach you.

Hateful man.

You feel a little better once you’re sitting in Nox’s saddle again, pretending not to notice the way both Johns stare when you shift your dress out of the way and buckle your legs into the waiting straps. And when you wrap yourself extra securely around Ghost, pressing your whole body against his back, it’s certainly not because you want either of them to feel any kind of jealousy.

This time you’re better prepared for the leap skyward, and your stomach doesn’t remain somewhere on the ground below. With Ghost to cling to, you feel safer looking down, even if it does still send a jolt through you.

The world spreads out below, distant and beautiful, like a painting with minute brushstrokes. You can even see a glimpse of green fields beyond the spread of forest, a near glimpse of home. It seems so close from here, but still far out of reach. Nox begins her descent only a moment later, and the glimpse of the far countryside dips out of view again. She didn’t have to climb so high, but you appreciate that she did, that the gryphon is so keen to show you the world from her perspective.

Simon touches the back of your hands, where they’re clasped tight around his middle, thumb running across your knuckles. Your heart aches curiously. You want to pull his mask off and see if you’re right, if he really has been living in your town as Simon the blacksmith’s quiet apprentice, if he’s the owner of the brown eyes that sparked warmth in your belly whenever he looked at you.

Maybe, if he is (and you’re nearly certain of it), he’ll come with you, when you leave once more. You’re afraid to ask such a thing, to test the weight of his oath to protect you against his loyalty to John. And John… Well, that was never going to go anywhere, no matter how much his kiss shook you to the core. There’s no sense mourning a choice you never had. He would find a queen elsewhere, and you would all be happier for it.

Just one more day. You’ll be glad to leave this behind, won’t you? It’s not as though it feels like any kind of homecoming, to return to this cursed place.

There are a few shrieks from the street below as Nox swoops down and lands on the cobblestone, onlookers ducking behind carts and into alleyways, although all of the terrified faces relax somewhat when they recognize you and Ghost, and then fear is replaced with wide-eyed excitement, whispered conversations springing up around you as you lean down to unbuckle your straps. Ghost is faster with his, and hops down to help you with the straps on your other leg while you’re still working on the first.

He lifts you clear of Nox’s saddle, and the closest shop door opens. “Princess!” Kyle’s sister, Rosie, rushes out of the shop and embraces you. She’s as pretty as Kyle is handsome, with a beaming smile that creases her face in just the same way. “Goodness, it’s been years. How have you been?”

“Well,” you say. “Life outside the city has been good to me.”

“I see that. I was so glad to see that you’d gained weight, when Kate sent your measurements. We always worried about you when you were younger. No appetite.” She pulls back and cups your face fondly. “You really are a sight for sore eyes, my lady. It will be good for the people to see you again, to know that you’re well.”

Her enthusiasm surprises you. You had always rather liked Rosie, when she worked at the castle, but you hadn’t expected a greeting like this, after so long. “I hadn’t realized— I mean, my father—”

Rosie laughs, the movement of her head making the pile of coily curls on top of her head bounce slightly. “Did you think we counted you party to your father’s crimes? No, princess. You’ve always been loved. There isn’t a soul in this city, perhaps not even in the whole of the country, who isn’t glad to know you’re safe and hale.”

Your heart twists. You had expected indifference, that no one would care one way or the other if you were here or gone. You hadn’t even considered that the people would be disappointed that you aren’t planning to stay. It’s one thing, to say you wish to leave to Price, but another to say so to Rosie, and a heavy thought indeed, knowing you’ll make a speech over it tomorrow.

“Come on, in we go,” Ghost says firmly, motioning for you and Rosie to get inside. “Keep a look out, hey Nox?” The Gryphon makes a low, gurgling sound in response and sits on her haunches beside the door.

There's a prickle of magic in the air, but perhaps it's just Kyle, the energy that crackles around him wherever he goes. He stands next to a dress form with a beautiful dark green gown hanging off of it. It's off the shoulder, with pearly beads and clusters of embroidered leaves and flowers in a pale cream colour all around the neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves, giving way to beautiful lace. You think that maybe the colour difference is too stark— You would have chosen a more subtle accent— but you politely say nothing of it. Perhaps this is what's fashionable these days. You certainly won't ask Rosie to make a serious alteration like that with less than a day of lead time. You only have to wear the dress for a few hours anyway.

Rosie and one of her assistants shoo Kyle away, and start taking the dress off the form. Ghost joins Kyle on a bench on the other side of the room, his bulky frame taking up most of the available space. Another assistant ushers you into another room and begins helping you take off your dress and settle a few extra layers of petticoats over the ones you're already wearing.

The shop bell rings, and you hear Nox make a churring sound. "Hello," a woman says, her pretty, accented voice carrying through the space without growing too loud, like she naturally knows how to command attention. "Sir Garrick, Sir Ghost. Good to see you."

"Always good to see you, Farah," Kyle says pleasantly. “It’s been too long.”

“Hardly. We never see each other when times are good, Garrick.”

“Times are good now,” Kyle replies.

“Hm.”

You twist to look behind you, thinking about going back into the other room to introduce yourself, and Rosie accidentally stabs you with a pin. “Hold still, my lady,” she chides. “We’ll just be another moment.”

Farah pushes past the curtain and stalks into the room. She’s small, even shorter than you are, but she has a hunter’s lean to her stride, and a sword strapped to her back. She’s dressed practically, leather pauldron on her left arm pieced together with her bracer with a jack chain, nearly balanced on the other arm, but without the heavier pauldron, to keep her sword arm freer. Her leather breastplate is scarred from battle, but well-maintained, and a small hand-crossbow that glitters with magic hangs from her thick belt, along with a knife and a quiver of bolts. Her hair is braided back from her strong-boned face, and although her expression is serious, thick brows drawn into straight, unimpressed lines, her dark eyes have a curious glint in them. “Princess,” she says as you turn, earning yourself another pin-prick. “I am Farah Karim. I’ve been told you have need of me.”

“John insists that I’m not safe without a sword-wielding escort,” you say wryly. “I disagree, but his knights will hardly let me out of their sight as it is.”

“Could be assassins lurking about, my lady,” Rosie says, warm brown eyes wide and worried. “We would hate to lose you so quickly, after just getting you back.”

You glance at Farah, and spot the slightest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You see what I’m dealing with?” you ask. “Everyone thinks I’m in terrible danger.”

“The danger likely comes tonight. With their envoy.”

You tip your head to the side. “No love for our neighbours, Commander?”

Farah huffs, crossing her arms and widening her stance reflexively. “No. My father’s lands are close to the border. I’ve seen the worst of them. While you were locked away in the palace, I saw villages burned, people slaughtered, foul magics leeching life from the very soil. You would be wise to be wary.”

“I suppose it’s naivete to think the peace can last.”

“No. It is hopeful. But you must project strength, or they will see that hope as weakness. Your cousin has given them leverage to oust John. So it falls to you to correct the course. We cannot fight another war amongst ourselves, or the wolves will be at our throats.” The challenge in her eyes is immistakable. Her perspective is valuable, and she offers it without pretense, as both warning an a test. Are you willing to listen? Or are you like so many others of your station, in your country and without, that only hear what they wish to hear?

“You don’t see minding me as beneath you?” you ask. “You lead a company of soldiers.”

Her lips curl into a smile. “My fighters are in good hands. Besides, I’m curious about you, princess. We might have been friends, had our paths not diverged. Perhaps we still can be.”

“I’d like that,” you admit.

Farah walks back out to speak with Ghost and Kyle while Rosie finishes marking adjustments. When you’re finally freed from the dress and get dressed again, Kyle and Ghost are both gone, and Farah is inspecting some spools of ribbon idly.

"I sent them home," she explains. "I suspect Ghost will be nearby and watching, but Gaz has gone back to his tower. He says he will be there all afternoon if you still wish to learn magic tricks from him." She wiggles her fingers vaguely, eyes creased with a smile.

"I think I should. It can't hurt to try."

"No. And it will give me a chance to go over castle wards and security."

Nodding, you bid farewell to Rosie and her assistants, and step out onto the street with Farah by your side. Nox is still waiting outside, basking in a block of sunshine. She stirs, getting up and stretching like a house cat, her feather-tufted tail lashing lazily behind her. You smile when Nox settles into her stride behind you and Farah, sticking her beak over your shoulder. You hook your fingers over the smooth black beak. “Just us girls, hey Nox?” you croon.

She churrs in response.

“The beast likes you,” Farah says approvingly. “Gryphons tend to be disagreeable, unless they’re hand-reared. Nox has famously bitten more than a few fingers.”

“Yours too?” you ask.

Farah laughs, shaking her head. “I know how to keep my hands to myself.”

“At least someone around here does,” you grouse.

“Price?” she asks, raising her thick brows. “Do you want me to speak with him?”

“I don’t think there’s much point. This will all be over soon enough.”

Farah frowns at that, her dark eyes studying you sidelong. “It doesn’t give him the right, no matter who he is to you. If he cannot behave, I will gladly remove a finger or two to remind him.”

“Really? I thought you were one of John’s people.”

“He may be the king, but I am not one of his sworn knights, nor am I a member of the army. He cannot command me, he can only ask if he wants something done,” Farah says, and there’s something in her tone that tells you that she’s had to remind John of this fact more than once. “If I am to be loyal to anyone in court, it will be you, and you alone.”

“Just like that?”

“I have a good feeling about you, princess. I think your people need you, and you will need allies of your own.”

Your stomach twists again. You’re beginning to doubt your resolution to leave. Maybe you really are needed here. Maybe you bring something vital that’s been missing for too long. Maybe things aren’t going as well as you had thought— You have to admit, your perspective is still limited, for all that you were living among ordinary citizens all this time. Your town is a prosperous one, along a good trade route, too far from any borders to face any significant dangers. There has been little strife, no awful storms, no disasters. This can’t be the case for the whole kingdom.

Maybe you should stay a few extra days, and go through the accounts and reports from the last few years, at least. If there’s something that’s been missed, you might have better eyes to find it. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, to stay on just a few days more. Especially once you’d made your speech and no one was labouring under the idea that you’d be staying forever. It would be easier to speak to people if you really were no longer a princess.

On to better things, as John had said.

Maybe there’s a place here for you. Not as a queen, but an advisor. Something to speak to John about later, perhaps. You’re sure he’d be happy for an excuse to keep you close.

But then again, maybe not. It’s a bitter thought, but his interest in you is very likely just based in your lineage, your claim to the throne. He has no need to keep you close once you’ve pledged your support to him. Better to send you away, lest you rescind that support when you have a large enough disagreement.

John is nothing if not pragmatic. You’ll be no use to him by the end of the day tomorrow.

And that’s good. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To go home, to be left alone, to take upon yourself a destiny of your own, that has nothing to do with where you’re from, and everything to do with where you’re going next?

“How did you become a mercenary?” you ask. Better to think about something other than yourself before you drive yourself mad with what-ifs and maybes.

“My father arranged a marriage for me, and I wanted to be a knight, like my brother Hadir was in training to be. It was an argument. In the end, I saw only two paths. I could do what was expected, but I knew even as a girl that would not be tolerable. I was too proud of my skills, eager to fight and defend people that needed me. So I took the second path, and left my home. I started off as a sell-sword, mostly caravan work until Hadir left his knight-master to come work with me, and the two of us started making a name.” She gives you a wry smile. “My parents were none too pleased with Hadir either. But they still speak to him.”

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

“Once in a while they send me a letter to remind me that the man who wished to marry me still hasn’t found another. That he’s still open to the match.” She rolls her eyes. “I think if he hasn’t been able to find a wife in all this time, there’s a reason for it.”

You laugh lightly. She has a good point.

By the time the two of you meander back to the palace, you do feel like you’re fast friends. Farah has a way of opening up without having to say much at all, her dark, pretty eyes sincere. Maybe it's something shared between you, not words exchanged, but who you both expected to become, how you both were raised to be something you wanted no part of. Farah is bolder than you, decisive and candle-quick, and you are a slow trickle of water, always taking the path of least resistance, but somehow you were both born of the same stuff. You understand each other.

Nox flies off when you reach the castle gates, and Farah and you split at the foot of Gaz's tower, her off to meet with the knight commander, and you to see if there's anything that you can learn. The book that Gaz had lent to you had been easy reading, especially with the annotations in his neat, scratchy writing, and the first two chapters had been more reminder of what you already knew. The third was about disrupting and dispelling magic, which seemed like it would be a useful place to start your lessons. Even if you expect that greater magics will be beyond your grasp, you can protect yourself by disrupting spells used against you.

By the time you reach the workshop door, you’re a bit warm and out of breath, the countless spiraling steps more effort than you’d like to admit, especially after a walk through the city. Why Kyle liked it was apparent just from looking at him, but you have a softer physique, and you’ve become quite unused to stairs over the years away from the castle. There are very few buildings taller than two stories back in town. You halt outside the door to catch your breath, glancing out the narrow window, through the slight warping of uneven glass panes.

“Isna right, Gaz, and even ye know it!” Soap’s heated voice seeps through the door. Kyle’s response is too low to make out, but Soap’s next words are clear. “She deserves better! Been nothin’ but kind to us.”

“She’ll get over it, Soap. You know it’s for the best.”

“The best for himself, sure, but I dinnae ken if it’s best for her.”

You sigh, torn between the impulse to eavesdrop and knowing that it’s wrong to do so. It’s not difficult to surmise that they’re talking about you. It would explain the look on Johnny’s face this morning and the feeling that things are not quite right that has been worrying at you all day. Perhaps John does intend to make you stay on in some capacity, to prop up his rule, which would be contrary to everything you’ve said you want. It wouldn’t be all that difficult to get the truth of the matter out of Soap later however— He seems uncomfortable with any level of duplicity.

The knock on the door silences the low, indecipherable sound of Kyle’s response. You rub your knuckles idly as the door opens, the tingle of magic clinging to your skin like cobwebs.

“Hello, Sweetpea.” Kyle greets you with a big smile. “I’m glad you decided to come up. Did you get through the reading I gave you?” He throws a look over his shoulder at Soap that cleary says go away.

“I did. I read through the first three chapters— I was wondering if we could focus on dispelling magic? I’m familiar enough with the bare basics, and if I’m only going to have time for one lesson, this seems like a good place to focus.” You reach out to brush Soap’s shoulder as he moves past you. “Can we talk later?”

“Of course, bonnie,” Soap says. “I’m always at yer service.”

“If you go find Farah, she might appreciate any insights you have on castle security. I think she went to speak with the knight commander.”

“Aye, could be helpful there. Go’ a nose for these things.” He taps his nose, his grin tinged with relief that you don’t seem angry with him for yesterday. “We’ll talk later, then.”

You step into the workshop and he steps out, and Kyle closes the door between you. “Dispelling magic could be a good place to start… How are you at sensing magic? If you have a natural affinity for it we can breeze past the first half of the lesson.” He takes your hand and gently pulls you over to the circle of iridescent stone.

“I think I might— I get this prickle when there’s magic around. I can’t say I always notice it, but I haven’t always thought to pay attention.” You sit on the ground inside the circle, noticing the way the buzz of the workshop fades away once you’re fully inside it. “I’ve been paying more attention here. More magic to notice, I suppose.”

“And a new environment.” Kyle says. “It’s easy to get used to the ambient magic in familiar spaces. You’ll get more attuned to the castle the longer you stay.”

“I hope so. I get all tingly whenever we’re in a room together,” you say, laughing lightly.

He settles down across from you, close enough that his knees nearly touch yours. “You sure that’s just the magic?” he asks, flashing his pretty smile at you. “It could be something else.”

“Could it?” You give him a smile in return, but yours is sharp around the edges, reminding him to mind himself. You’ve gotten a little weary of the flirting— It’s more John’s fault than it is his, admittedly, but you’re just tired of all the attention. You don’t want to flirt, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and even if you really do like him plenty. You just want to learn a bit of magic, and it would be nice if he could focus. “Or do you think that maybe being handsome has skewed your perspective to think that every young man and woman you meet is attracted to you?”

“Could be that,” he agrees, unperturbed. “But no matter. Lets get to work.”

He runs through some breathing exercises, half-familiar ones that you remember the old wizard making you do for hours on end. Luckily Gaz seems satisfied with your control, and moves on quickly.

He asks you to keep your eyes closed while he sketches runes in the air, asking you to identify them. “It will help you sense when someone is sending a spell your way, or using magic in your vicinity,” he explains. “Knowing what’s going on is the first step to knowing how to dispel it.”

The first rune feels warm, and tastes oddly of smoke. “Fire,” you say easily. Kyle hums with approval, and sketches a new one. It’s cool, and drips down your spine. “Water?”

“Good. This one should be a bit trickier.”

It’s not. You’re familiar with light spells, you come across them more often than almost anything else. “Light.”

He runs through a few more. Earth, ice, moon, sun, shadow, music, metal, lock, key. All components of spells, and not spells on their own, each one leaving impressions on your skin, tastes on your tongue. Kyle seems more and more impressed as he works through his list, and you’re both laughing before long, enjoying a lesson that feels more like a game. “You have a knack for this. Figures the old wizard couldn’t see your talent— I had to fight him to get him to take me seriously too.” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Let’s see… We can try an actual spell now. You can open your eyes, if you like.”

You open your eyes to look at him, pleased that he thinks you’re doing well. He smiles so prettily at you that at first you don’t notice the way magic curls around you, sliding up your neck like warm hands. You’re too distracted by the way Kyle smells, cedar and spice and ink and paper, the little scar just below his cheekbone, his wide hazel eyes fringed by thick lashes, the soft curve of his lips… You’ve always thought him handsome of course, you have eyes after all, but you’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

It’s a charm spell. Something harmless for you to practice shredding apart. It makes sense for him to throw something innocuous at you, but he’s misjudged how much you already like him, and the charm is throwing you well past friendly suggestibility to wanting so badly that your hands tremble.

Knowing what it is, it’s easy to see how to unravel it, but you don’t really care to. It gives you an excuse to do something you want to do anyway. You pitch onto your knees and lean forward, bracing your hands on his thighs. His sweet, forest brown eyes widen with surprise, and he catches your face between his pretty, long-fingered hands, holding you back before you can kiss him.

“Wait,” he says quickly, his voice a quiet, anxious rasp. “It’s a charm spell, Sweetpea, I didn’t mean— You don’t really want to kiss me.” His fingers curl around your neck, like he’s fighting every instinct in him to hold you away and not draw you closer.

“Yes I do,” you say. “I just want to blame it on the spell.”

“Prove it,” he says.

It’s as simple as pulling a loose thread from knitting, unraveling magic that tastes sweet as fine white sugar on your tongue. Your cheeks burn, embarrassment settling in your stomach heavily. You should probably still be angry with him, you shouldn’t be thinking about how plush his mouth looks, or about how his pretty eyes fix on yours intently, the fire that he hides so neatly behind his quick-wit and natural charm rising to the surface. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“We probably shouldn’t,” you say softly.

“Probably not,” he agrees.

And still, neither one of you tries to move away. He wets his lips, his gaze settling on your mouth. You swallow nervously. “Kyle—”

“Hells,” he says, angling his head slightly and closing the distance, slow enough that you could pull away, but quickly enough that he won’t lose his nerve halfway. His mouth is as soft as you anticipated, lips sliding over yours slow and sweet.

You move closer, and Kyle shifts his legs to either side of your knees to give you enough room, hands sliding down to your waist. You hum against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his solid shoulders. He kisses you for a long while before his tongue slips between your lips. He licks into your mouth, moaning, and the sound is just as pretty as he is, sending honey-sweet arousal through your veins to pool deep in your belly.

It would be easy to kiss Kyle forever— He makes no demands, keeps his hands on your waist or curled around your back, toying with, but making no attempt to undo, the buttons that march up your spine. He feels safe, and you know that he won’t push you for more, the way John would. Kyle keeps himself in check, holds himself back. It makes you all the more ready to melt for him.

It’s several long moments before he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes hot and hazy like a summer afternoon. “Princess,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “I need to tell you something.”

There’s a soft chime from his desk, and John’s voice speaks into the workroom, as clear as if he were right there with you both. Kyle freezes, a hound caught with his nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been, hands tightening on your hips.

“Gaz? Is Sweetpea still with you?”

Kyle clears his throat. He looks at you so guiltily, you almost feel like you’re the one that’s done something wrong. “Um. Yes sir.”

“Good. The Lyudireki ambassador is here, and Kate too, if you’d like to speak with her before you join us, Sweetpea. I believe she’s gone to your room to wait for you.”John’s voice sounds amused. It makes Kyle nervous, if his grip is anything to go by. “Gaz, I’d like you to find Soap, and bring him to the green parlour. He can be a wolf, if he likes. It’s up to him.”

“Yes sir. We’ll be down in a minute.” The chime sounds a second time, and Kyle relaxes slightly. “Old man has terrible timing. Come on, Sweetpea. We’d better get to it.”

He stands and pulls you up along with him. "You didn't do anything wrong," you remind him gently. "I kissed you."

"No, I kissed you, Sweetpea. And it's my fault you wanted to. You wouldn't have if I hadn't charmed you." He sighed. "Price is going to—"

"Kyle, I can kiss anyone I want," you say stiffly. You resent the implication that a Price owns you, that he has any say in who you kiss or what you do.

"Well. I suppose so," he says doubtfully. "But we should go. You'll want to speak with Kate, yeah?"

Your stomach churns slightly. Kate has been notably absent for all this time, conveniently unavailable to explain. She knew. She knew everything, and didn't give you so much as a heads up. "Yes. I have some questions I'd like answered."

"Don't be too hard on her," Kyle said. "John didn't give her a choice."

"Everyone always has choices, Kyle. She should have told me what was going on."

"Would you have done things differently if she had?"

"What could be done differently? I'm not the foolish little girl everyone seems to think I am. I understand my position in all this better than anyone."

Kyle seems to have to response to that. He’s quiet all the way down the stairs, lost in his thoughts. You let him stay there.

It would be nice if everyone wasn't too afraid of what John might do or say to be honest with you. Although you do know that loyalty like he demands from his men isn't born from fear alone, or your father would never have been deposed. There’s love there too, and real trust.

Kyle leaves you at your door with a lingering kiss. You try not to blame him for the way his eyes dart down the hall before he does so, even if it makes you want to shove him away. You offer him a small smile instead, and step into your room.

Thanks for your patience everyone! I know it took me a hot minute to get this chapter out, but we're back, baby! And we're kissing Kyle about it.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

[wardenparker]

The King's Queen - chapter 9

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Prince Javier of the Balearic Islands has always known that one day he would have to follow in his father's footsteps to be the caring and steadfast king that his people deserve. What he did not know is that he would be stepping into the next phase of his life alongside a woman he has never met before - and amidst a rocky sea of unusual circumstances of every kind.

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: arranged marriage, age gap, classicism, cursing, food and alcohol, mentions of American politics, deceased parents* Lots of mystery related content this chapter, so no warnings in order to guard against spoilers! Summary: As the weeks progress, the investigation into King Miguel's death is stalling out. Until an unexpected conversation renews your suspicions about a particular member of court. Notes: We're winding down toward the end of this story, folx and thank you all so, so much for reading! It will probably be one more chapter and an epilogue -- so for now have a gif of Lucas and Javi for ✨atmosphere✨

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

In the weeks following, the palace falls into a rhythm. The ongoing investigation is the dark cloud that covers the planning of the royal wedding and coronation, but life goes on. You've accompanied Javi on multiple public outings as Crowned Princess now and the press coverage does seem to be reasonably positive. Maisie and Gabriela have made a few gossip headlines along with you, including one tabloid photo of the three of you visiting a recently opened café owned by two young women in downtown Palma. The photo op had been chosen very strategically by your brother working together with the palace's security team, and you had insisted that the business they selected for the three of you to patronize needed to meet certain standards. The small shop had served you one of the most fantastic lunches you had ever had, and you were sure to tell the women so. The photo of you savoring your crema catalana had gone up on your official royal Instagram account that night.

You're settling in, is really what it comes down to, and at Javi's encouragement you've decided to clean up a room in the palace that hasn't been used much in the last few decades to turn into your receiving room. The Queen's office is one thing. That's a separate space in the working wing of the house, and your brother's office is adjacent to it. But a room for you to receive guests in or have meetings in...it's something that the palace hasn't needed since Javi's mother passed away.

“Your Highness, the furniture movers have arrived.” Despite having an abundance of nicknames for you growing up, and being your brother, Sebastian insisted on making sure that during working hours he addresses you by your title rather than any nickname. Wanting there to be no slip ups in protocol, or for visiting dignitaries to believe that they could also address the future Queen so informally.

“Thank you, Sebastian.” The room had been emptied of its former furniture set and divested of its previous rugs and trinkets. The fireplace had been scrubbed and all of that. Curtains taken away to be replaced with the set that you had chosen. Now the team from the palace steward’s office will be bringing in that expansive set of blue velvet upholstered walnut wood pieces, with their silver accents and silver-embroidered curtains to match. It will be your space and yours alone, just the way you like it. Even the paintings that are going up for decor were your choice, and the collection of Spanish impressionists that will hang on the walls is stunning.

"Of course." He smiles slightly and nods his head in deference to your position. "They have also located a rug for the space, I have told them to bring that first for your approval." The storage for the palace holds all of the furnishing through the years.

Just as he defers to your title during working hours, you’ve kept yourself to using his full name during those times as well, not wanting any rumours to build around why you hired your brother for this position — or even fuel the incredibly stupid theory that went around at first that he isn’t your brother at all. Some tabloid had printed that they thought he was your secret lover but thankfully that had gone nowhere with the people. You look far too much alike for anyone to not realize you’re related. “Do we know when Maisie and Gabriela are due back from their appointments?” Your ladies had gone into Palma for something that you hadn’t quite caught the explanation for but you’re hoping they will be back before dinner. The two women really have become you close friends in almost no time at all. And you’ve noticed a little bit of flustering on your brother’s part around Gabriela that is very sweet.

Sebastian looks down at the tablet in his hands and checks the calendar. Any appointments your ladies in waiting have are also kept by him so he can inform you. "They will be returning to the palace in thirty minutes."

“You are a font of useful information.” And you’re so incredibly glad that he’s here. Having someone nearby who just knows you as a person — what makes you tick and what makes you anxious — on staff is so helpful.

He smirks and holds up the tablet. "You just like me for my schedule." He teases playfully.

“Honestly?” You waggle your eyebrows at him, aware that until the movers from the steward’s office come into the room, the only people who will see or hear this interaction are the security officers watching the cameras that have been discreetly installed around the room. “I’m starting to see why so Dad was mad that I stole you away.”

"You understand and appreciate my work." Sebastian smirks, preening slightly. "Dad's new assistant isn't completely incompetent, but apparently he's not me and that infuriates the old man."

“C’est la vie, I guess. That’s why you should always appreciate the people who make your life easier.” As if on cue, a set of four workers from the steward’s office appear. They’re toting an enormous rug with them and look a little apprehensive.

“Y-Your highness?” The first man holding the rug bows his head. “This was – for your approval? If you do not approve, we will carry it back to the storage.”

“I’m sure you’ve made a wonderful choice.” And considering you know next to nothing about rugs, you’re willing to bet that they made a decision far more educated than yours would be. “Will you let it out, please? I’m very excited to see your choice.”

There’s a grateful smile on the third man and they begin to quickly unroll the rug. “It, uh, the blues and silvers in the rug could work with the furniture.” The first man explains.

"Then it will be perfect." You and Sebastian step back to give the men room, and soon enough the enormous Turkish carpet is rolled out to reveal its intricate patterns and subtle colors. It's exactly the right thing to bring warmth to a room that was once stark whites and ladylike pinks and pale greens, and you smile gratefully. Your color palette is slightly more robust than the last queen's, but there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, this piece will be what ties the room together. "Que maravillosa," you hum, seeing it all laid out. "Gentlemen, you have made the perfect selection. I could not have done better myself."

The pride that filters out from the men's faces would make Sebastian think that you had just knighted them. He hides a small smile and nods, stepping forward. "I think that it is safe to say that the Queen will keep the rug that you have chosen with her upmost gratitude." He tells him.

“We will return shortly with the first truck of furniture.” The seeming leader of the group tells you, bowing his head politely before he herds the others out to the hallway. They have two large, motorized hand trucks to bring down the king palace hallway and then they will arrange the pieces to their princess’ satisfaction.

"They chose well." Sebastain comments as he examines the plush rug. "Almost as if they were eager to please the crowned princess or something." He has felt the love the palace staff have started to extend to you, finding less pushback on his requests than he had once expected.

“I’m grateful it hasn’t been difficult,” you admit, smiling softly as your engagement ring winks in the late morning sun. “Javi is already having a hard enough time with the investigation still ongoing. I can’t imagine if he was fighting pushback in the press, too.”

"They still have found nothing substantial, and the King is growing impatient." He nods. glancing around to make sure no one else has come into the morning room.

“Remarkably, the investigation seems to conclude that it may have been accidental.” You keep your voice low as well. “But I still find that conclusion…unsettling.”

"As do I." Your brother hums, even if he agrees quietly.

The men from the steward’s office stay with you for the better part of an hour. It turns out that moving the furniture about takes seemingly no effort at all when it’s done by four men who could probably bench press you, and soon the seams of 1920s artisan-made study furniture is set precisely around the room in the perfect way to make it look nonchalant yet elegant. You didn’t even know furniture could look nonchalant, but now there is an art deco chaise lounge in your morning room ready to prove you wrong.

"Should I have tea and a light snack brough in?" Sebastain asks, knowing that you would want to settle into the room, get a feel for her. "I have some paperwork that needs attending, and you have nothing on your schedule until after lunch."

“Bring me everything you need me to sign,” you sigh dramatically in resignation but flash your brother a grin. “And if you could ask the kitchen for a tea tray, I would be eternally grateful.” In the last few weeks, the palace chef has gotten the contents of your personal tea tray down to a science, and you swore up and down to Javi that night that this is true luxury. Having your favourite snacks on hand at all times is what it’s all about.

"As you wish, your highness." Sebastian bows gracefully and sends you a small wink before sailing out of the room.

The room is better than you had envisioned it would be. The paintings are light and bright and bring a sense of invitation to the art deco furniture. It's a mix of styles so it doesn't feel too stuffy, making the room feel a little bit more personable. You sit down at the writing desk by the fireplace, admiring the elaborate carvings and the personalized touches. The men from the steward's office had also come in with a case of your personal stationary and a set of the pens that had been ordered with the emblem of the Crowned Princess of Mallorca on them. It had all been very overwhelming at first, but you're starting to settle in to it. One sheet of stationery and one of the pens find their way out of their cubbies in and into your hands, deciding that you'll write a note to be delivered to Javi as he goes about his work during the way. Your little notes make him smile, and if even a moment of smiling eases some of his burden, then they are well worth the few minutes they take to write.

He watches you from the shadow, frowning and furious. About to step out and speak when the silly little maid arrives with a tea cart. Making him curl his lip in disgust. You would have everyone believe you were an English queen with your teas and little treats.

You thank the girl and smile when she curtsies, knowing that being on your best manners with the palace staff is everything. The tea tray is laden with a mix of things and you sip your cup with a happy sigh. Until Sebastian comes back with your paperwork, it's just you and your tea and your love note to Javi.

"Well, aren't you just settling in nicely?" The voice comes from the far exit, carrying across the room. "Already changing things, causing disruptions."

If his voice causes a slight twitch in one eye, it isn't your fault. It's just that Lucas has been a needle in your side since the day you met him and there is nothing you can really do about it except be overly kind to the point of making him uncomfortable. "Lucas." You turn your head, setting down your teacup and folding your hands in your lap to offer him the most witheringly perfunctory smile you can manage. "Or shall I start to call you cousin? After all it won't be much longer before the wedding."

“Yes…the wedding.” He walks into the room as if he owns it, sniffing as he looks around the room. “Very…quaint.” He decides. “How fitting.”

"Is there some reason you have sought me out this morning?" He has a tendency to try to bait you into debates or arguments with polite insults, but you are in far too good of a mood today to be bent out of shape by petty words. "Can I offer you a cup of tea?"

“No.” He scoffs the word, almost close to a chuckle as he strolls around the room. Taking pains to touch different things, adjusting them to his own liking. “I have to admit that I’m surprised you are still here.” He glances up at you and then down the small Tiffany music box on a table. His finger running over the gilded lid. “Perhaps the prize is too large to let go?”

“Whatever gave you the impression that I might leave?” There hasn’t really been a serious moment since meeting Javi where you’ve considered it. Is the job difficult? Of course. But Javi makes every single second worth it. And you would never disappoint him by leaving — or so coarsely abandon the man you love.

“The king is dead.” He shrugs slightly. “Unless an arranged marriage is something you actually wished for.”

“King Miguel is dead; may he rest in peace. But King Javier is very much alive and well.” His refusal to accept that his cousin has ascended the throne is something of a curiosity to you. Like there is a full block in his mind that prevents him from accepting it. “And happily I will tell you, as well as anyone else who wishes to hear, how very much in love with my fiancé I truly am.”

“Come now.” He tuts and sends you a pitying look. “No one would be in love with Javier. Expect perhaps my wife.”

“I think it would be more difficult to find someone not at least a little in love with him.” A pinched, derisive smile makes you tilt your head. “The only exception seems to be you, cousin.”

“I have known Javier my entire life, believe me, there is nothing special about him.” Lucas sneers.

"I'm very sorry that you believe that," you reply placidly. Lucas truly has a talent for getting under your skin — and it's really all to do with his attitude toward Javi. He seems to think his cousin is the least remarkable man in the world, which is a thought process that you just can't wrap your head around. Javi's goodness is what will make him a kind and sympathetic leader. "Javi's ability to be kind in the face of an unkind world is one of the most special things I have ever witnessed in a human being. It seems to me that you might not know your cousin as well as you think after all. But that is merely an observation."

There’s a mean little grin on his face, making the classically handsome exterior appear almost rotten because of the evilness inside. “I think you might actually believe that load of horse shit.”

He truly seems to have come to see you just to be cruel today, which is rare, but it isn’t the first time. Lucas taunts and intimidates and spits venom as his surest means of communication. It is who he is. But he is also exceptionally talented at hiding his true nature, which leads to unfortunate circumstances like the group of loyal followers he still has here at the palace. Allowing yourself one more sip from your teacup, you set it down again and give him your patented Senator’s-Daughter placid smile. “Is there something that you needed, Lucas?”

“I was wondering if you had heard anything about the investigation?” He picks up a book that has been strategically placed and smirks as he opens it, glancing up and you and snapping it closed loudly.

"I am not at liberty to discuss the investigation," you remind him, interested in what he might have to say about it. Lucas has been relentlessly present during the investigation.

He rolls his eyes and snorts. “There’s no one here.” He huffs and lifts a brow. “I’ve heard your investigators have been probing, asking very pointed questions.”

“Well of course they are, a king has died.” You don’t say that he was killed, always very careful about your wording with Lucas — but something about his wording strikes you a moment later. ‘There’s no one here’ he says, blatantly encouraging you to speak liberally with him. As though you are entirely in private. Lucas…does not seem to know that your morning room has already been wired for security. “Of course…” you venture, keeping your breathing even and your voice steady so he doesn’t sense any change in your whatsoever even though your heart rate is now racing. “We will all be very glad when the matter is resolved. The country deserves to heal. To move forward.”

“It will, with a new king.” He is very certain of that and straightens slightly. “I understand the pressures of the throne might be too much for my cousin. He has always been a follower. Meek.”

Not so long ago, insulting the king so overtly would have been enough to have Lucas censured or even stripped of his title, but you bite your tongue on that point and simply tilt your head. "Do you really think so little of your own flesh and blood?"

“It is more that I know my own flesh and blood.” Lucas chuckles. “He is not the brightest Gutierrez, unable to figure out what is right under his nose.”

It's like Lucas wants to keep talking. Now that the topic has been breached and you are not shutting him down immediately as you usually do, he seems to be as unstoppable as the enormous boulder that chased Indiana Jones. "King Miguel believed in his son. He named Javi his heir and paved the way for him to take the throne. You think you know things about Javier that his own father did not?"

He smirks and shrugs slightly. “Miguel had to have faith in his son.”

"Had to?" That piques your interest, and you fold your hands in your lap even as you turn toward him a little more fully. There is a camera and microphone built into the clock above the mantel of the fireplace and you want to make sure this entire conversation is very firmly in the line of sight and sound. Though you doubt Lucas would ever overtly incriminate himself, he is being fairly damning if anyone ever called his loyalties into question. "King Miguel could easily have named another heir if he felt it was the best course of action."

“That would never have happened.” He hisses, face twisting into an angry scowl. His fist tightening in fury.

It might be the first time you've ever wanted to reel back from one of Lucas's outbursts, but you hold yourself steady in your chair and try not to make it obvious that you've just swallowed hard out of discomfort. "Never? Then King Miguel must have believed in Javi quite a lot."

“Not because he believed in him.” Lucas sneers. “But because the old bastard wouldn’t stand the shame, the humiliation of having such a weakling for a son.”

There will be time to take umbrage with Lucas's characterization of Javi later on. Right now, you have to stay laser focused on what is being spit out right in front of you. It is absolutely no secret between you and your fiancé that you both believe Lucas had something to do with King Miguel's death. But you still have no idea how to prove it. "And so...you believe that the late king would rather...gamble with the future of his country? Surely he would have wanted Javier to have help if he thought it was necessary."

“He had changed it.” Lucas growls, the fervor in his eyes nearly manic. “I saw. He had changed his directives – but the bastard guarding him refused to let me read it.” He curls his lip in disdain. “More of a lap dog than an assistant.”

"You think that Julius had something to do with the king's death?" That would be a grave accusation if it were true. Or, hell, it's a grave accusation anyway. Thankfully it will never be given any credence because of how hard Julius has worked for Javier.

Lucas barks out a rough laugh, throwing his head back. “You are made for my cousin!” He chortles. “Just as dim witted.”

You have no choice but to swallow the insult, finding your heart beat faster every second you are more and more hellbent on getting himself to cough up something that you can have to the investigators that will incriminate him. "It seems obvious that my mind does not work the same way yours does."

He chuckles, sending you a pitying look. “It’s a shame that you are so wrapped around my cousin’s thumb.” He tells you, “it would be fun to take another of his toys away from him. He’s already lost so much to me.”

"He already has the throne, Lucas." Not dignifying that idle threat with a response is causing you actual physical pain but sitting in your chair is currently taking enormous concentration. Anywhere else in the world and you would rather be wringing Lucas's slimy little neck. "Everything else is a trifle."

“Does he?” Lucas tilts his head and smiles. “Perhaps. Long live the king.” He intones sinisterly.

The irrevocable shiver that his tone sends down your spine is withering, and for a second you almost close your eyes against it but you are somehow convinced that taking your eyes off of him physically for even a second would be a terrible mistake. "He does," you state again, watching Lucas carefully. "And our child will have it after him. That is how the line of succession works. I know that you know this."

“Unless my dear cousin suffers the same fate as his father.” Lucas counters, waving his hand as if offering a solution. “Before you make that child.”

"How do you know we haven't already?" The surety in his voice is chilling, but you have to keep your own tone even.

“Because any child before your vows would be a bastard.” He hums. “Ineligible for the throne. Then the line of succession falls to…” he perks up and feigns excitement. “Well, me.”

"That is only true up to a point," you challenge, pressing the point if only gently. "Javi will not be dying of a heart attack anytime soon."

Lucas only stares at you, his dark eyes lifeless as he stands there quietly for nearly thirty seconds. “Of course not.” He says after that silence is up, his body relaxing and his face shifting into an innocent expression.

It might be the most unsettling and least reassuring ‘reassurance’ of all time, and the sinking feeling in your chest and stomach makes you feel positively sick. “In time,” you swallow bile as it rises in your throat. “You’ll see. Javi’s goodness is what will make him a great king.”

“Perhaps.” He shrugs as if the past few minutes of conversation hadn’t happened, and he shoots you a charming smile. Or it would have been if there wasn’t malice layered under it. “I will leave you to enjoy your new room then. Princess.”

“Good morning, your Grace.” You don’t stand, nod, or give him any other formal acknowledgement, but you definitely breathe easier when he turns and strides from the room. It’s like being in the same space as a cartoon villain, and you’ve found out that that is much more disturbing than you ever imagined.

“Your highness?” The maid who had been sent to check on your tea hurries into the room and her eyes are glancing around worriedly. She had seen the man most of the staff loved but she loathed walk out with a dark look on his face, one she is well acquainted with, and was concerned.

“Ah, Beatriz.” There is no choice but to shake off your unsettled nerves and pretend everything is fine, even though the sinking feeling in your stomach is sinking that much harder. “What can I do for you?”

“Are you—” she bites her tongue, knowing the question is inappropriate for the Princess. “I am checking to make sure you did not need anything, your highness.”

“I suspect that is not the only question you wish to ask me, Beatriz.” There are some members of the staff who have been more or less assigned to you, like your ladies’ maid and a few of the stewards or other staff, and you have generally been trying to get to know them and have them be comfortable with you within the bounds of what is considered proper. Probably being American fosters some of that in your mind all on its own, but you don’t like the idea of anyone being frightened to come near you in the palace.

“I— the count—” she starts before she stops again. “I saw the count hurry by me looking very unhappy.”

“I’m afraid the count is feeling a bit worse for wear today,” you lie, gracefully not indicating whether you mean he’s in a bad mood or that he’s actually ill. “I’m sure it will pass.”

“He- you are feeling well?” She asks, eyes searching you worriedly.

“I am perfectly fine.” The last thing you or Javi need is anyone on the palace staff spreading word that you might be ill, so you dispel the maid’s fear immediately. “And my tea is wonderful. Thank you for checking. If you would not mind waiting a moment, I am just finishing a note that I would like delivered to the king.”

“Of course, your highness.” She bows her head quickly. It was expected that you would never take her into your confidence, but it’s enough to find that you are…undisturbed. She breathes a quiet sigh of relief as she waits for you to finish writing your missive.

What was once a love note full of encouragement to your fiancé has quickly transformed into a gently coded indication that you have something you need to talk to him about privately. As soon as it is written out you fold the card and slip it into an envelope, sealing it with a small sticker bearing the royal seal of the Crowned Princess. "Please deliver this directly to the king," you instruct her, handing the maid the sealed card. "From my hands, to yours, to his. Is that understood?"

“Yes, your highness.” She nods solemnly, feeling very proud of being tasked with something of such importance. “For the king only.”

"Gracias, Beatriz." She curtsies and you nod, turning back to your desk as she hurries from the room. It's not exactly that you have evidence against Lucas, but at least now you have something solid to hand to the investigators to prove Lucas has a vendetta against Javier. There hasn't been anything besides hearsay until now.

Hurrying through the halls, Beatriz nods at different personnel but doesn’t stop. Not allowing herself to be waylaid on her mission. Once in front of the door to the king’s office, she stops and smooths her uniform out before knocking.

The door to the king’s office opens with a distinct click, and Julius steps out into the hallway. “Sí?” He knows Beatriz, of course, and knows that she tends to you, but does not know why the maid has come here of all places.

“I have a message for the king from her highness.” Beatriz tells him, shaking her head when he holds out his hand for the message. “The Princess said from my hand to King Javier’s.” She insists.

“I see.” Julius purses his lips in amusement. Normally when the king receives a note of that nature it results in copious blushing and clearing his throat. “Very well. You had best deliver it, then.”

It’s an honor to be allowed into the king’s office and she’s well aware of it. Bowing her head, she waits for him to open the door and follows him inside.

“Your Majesty.” Julius hums softly, breaking the king’s concentration as he bends over his desk. “A note from Her Highness.”

“Oh?” His head pops up and his brow furrows as he sees the maid in front of him.

“To be delivered from her hands to yours.” Beatriz tells him, barely stepping up to his desk and curtsying while she holds out the envelope.

“Thank you…Beatriz.” He finally comes up with the maid’s name, having a flurry of new staff being changed around with your arrival, his father’s death and the upcoming wedding.

The maid curtsies and exits promptly once the envelope is in his hands, blushing over the fact that the king knows her name. Julius, for his part, smiles and nods to the door. “Shall I leave you?” He asks, hoping to offer privacy if it is wanted.

“Please.” Javi nods, barely looking up from the closed note in his eagerness to see what you have written. “Give me just a minute and we will continue.”

With a nod Julius is gone, leaving Javier to his reading.

Mi amor, A very interesting conversation with someone we are both interested by may pique your curiosity. If you would like to relive it for yourself, I will show you this evening. M

Javier frowns at the paper and wonders what the hell has happened today. A mystery would once have thrilled him, but he knows this is concerning one particular person and he feels a sense of dread.

******

His busy schedule keeps him occupied until dinner time, but the now-designated one night a week that you and Javi eat alone is proving to be a blessing. The serving cart is wheeled into your chamber and the table on your balcony set with candles, and you’ve taken off your heels to let your aching feet rest for the night in comfortable slippers when the door to your suite opens to let him inside.

Javier feels the mantle of responsibility seemingly lift. Even if he could be interrupted by any manner of emergencies, the idea that for tonight, he’s just your fiancé is a comforting one. The guise of not being responsible for a country needed as he has worried about your note for the rest of the day after receiving it. “Margarita?”

“Javi!” It would be a lot to pretend you aren’t excited to see him, and why would you pretend that at all? Instead, you pad across the sitting room of your suite eagerly and wrap him up in your arms. “How was your day, querido?”

“It was good, but it is better now.” He accepts the easy affection and snuggles close to you, burying his nose in your neck. “How was yours? Beatriz gave me your note.”

“Lucas paid me a rather interesting visit today.” It’s a shame that your dinner together has to be overshadowed by this but there is no way around it. “In the morning room.”

“You just set that up.” In fact, Javi had been put out that there had been no wiggle room in his busy schedule to allow for a visit to the room to see how you had redone it. He had planned to see to it tomorrow, but now he is wondering if it’s been tainted by his cousin.

“It seems he disapproves of my choice of decor.” You roll your eyes to show it does not bother you and place a kiss on his cheek. “Come. Eat with me. I’ll tell you what happened over our supper.”

“It is your space, like my mother’s.” He huffs, but he eagerly lets you lead him out onto the balcony. “The staff loves to make sure our private dinners are romantic.” Javi smiles at the candles on the table.

“They do wonderfully for us.” Tonight there are pink gin tonics in the cocktail pitcher that awaits you, and a beautiful seafood supper with fresh bread and bright vegetables. A feast that won’t make you feel over full or too tired afterward is a gift in its own right.

“Perhaps we should have a party for them.” Javi suggests. “Catered food, nice drinks. They can relax and be served.”

“That would be a very kind thing to do, I think.” You’re not sure if there’s precedent for that kind of thing, but you have to think it’s been done in some form before. “Maybe I can look into what it would take? And include the clean up being done by someone else, of course. It would be useless to give them a party that they have to clean up after themselves.”

“Of course.” Javi nods seriously. “Everything taken care of.”

“But…” You take it upon yourself to pour two glasses and hand him one, inhaling the wonderful scent of the plates he has set down on the table. “Lucas seems…more devious than usual.”

“Is that even possible?” Javi asks, rolling his eyes slightly. Ever since you arrived, it seems as though the blinders have been pulled away. Showing Javi how rotten his cousin’s soul really is.

“I hadn’t thought so.” It’s unfortunate to be wrong on that front, but here you are. “But he came the closest he’s ever come to incriminating himself today and we were standing right in front of the fireplace in the morning room while he was doing his…I hesitate to call it an interrogation of me, but it wasn’t comfortable. Either way he was very candid, and I watched the footage after retrieving the file from palace security. I think it’s damning enough to encourage the investigators to look into him again.”

“Really?” Javi has just sat down, leaning forward and his eyes narrow. “Tell me what he said, Margarita. I want my father’s death explained. I want to know why we lost our king too early.”

As you eat your recount every detail. The conversation is burned into your brain from this morning and though you’ll show the footage to Javi later so he can see it all for himself, you’re confident in your ability to tell the encounter to him completely. “I can’t help but think it all seems…sinister. But that may be my own bias against him showing. It might m be best just to let the investigators decide.”

“That’s what we will do.” Javi nods. “Although, I don’t want you to be alone with Lucas again.” He admits. “Will you keep Sebastian or one of your ladies with you?”

"A rotating witness along with my security detail?" Of course, to Javi's point — the guards who are meant to protect you are usually some small distance away so that you don't feel smothered. Today they had been at the door to the morning room while you were inside. Perhaps it is time to make better friends with them after all. "If that will make you more comfortable, querido, then I will make sure I keep someone with me."

“I just do not wish for my cousin to do something.” Javi admits. “I cannot banish him for any reason, and I cannot risk your safety.” If Lucas is plotting something, he would rather he not have access to you.

“I am not an enormous fan of your cousin trying to do something to either of us,” you reason. It is plenty enough work to run a country without having to worry about your own family trying to sabotage you or worse. “I will keep someone around me and so will you. The only time we should be alone is to be with each other.”

“I can agree with your logic.” Javi nods as he spears a stalk of broccolini. He doesn’t mention that it will give plenty of alibi for anything Lucas tries to cook up. Especially with the extra surveillance that has been discreetly installed under the guise of ‘redecorating’.

"I will have Sebastian contact the investigators first thing in the morning and hand the footage over to them personally, with a full explanation of what they are watching." It won't be fun, but at least it's some kind of progress. And progress desperately needs to be made.

“Perfect.” Javi nods even though it’s painful to admit that this can come from inside his own family. “Make sure that the investigators know that we are more than willing to be interviewed again.”

“I will.” A short reach across the table is all it takes to fit your hand in his, and you squeeze his fingers gently. “We will see this through. Your father deserves to be able to rest peacefully.”

He doesn’t want to monopolize the dinner with talk of his cousin, or his father. It pains him in a way that’s indescribable. “How has Sebastian settled in?” He asks curiously. “Has he had time to explore the country? You should take him, have a driver give you a complete day.”

“It’s probably asking too much to think you could get away for a day?” You know it is, but you still prefer to spend as much time with him as you can.

“I might be able to take half a day.” He would have to double check with Julius, but his schedule wasn’t too taxing the next few days.

“I don’t want to crowd your schedule with more things,” you assure him. “But it would be nice to spend time together.”

“I have relatively light days.” He promises. “I can try to combine the days to block out an afternoon. Or would you rather a morning?”

“I suppose it depends on what you want to show me.” The prospect of spending time together — even in public with cameras flashing and admirers stopping to spot him on the street — is a bit thrilling. While the investigation is ongoing, royal security isn’t keen to let the two of you eat at establishments they cannot control. Very few exceptions have been made and you haven’t been able to begin your date night idea quite yet. “Maybe we ought to consult security if we plan on doing anything besides going for a drive.”

“I will talk to Julius and send you a note?” He asks, knowing that it can’t be tomorrow. “Unless you have some appointments to plan the wedding?”

“Julius and Sebastian share our schedules for exactly this kind of reason.” They’re miraculously well-coordinated, actually, and you continue to be impressed with your brother’s work the longer he is with you. “We’ll ask them to find the day that works best.”

“Perfect.” He nods and smiles. “We are getting closer.”

“We are already very close, mi amor.” A smile even wider than his graces your lips and you hum happily around a bite of your dinner. “Would you like to hear about the wedding preparations?”

“I would love to hear.” He leans forward eagerly. “And anything you would like for me to help with, I will.” He assures you. “Even those little gift bag things. We are having those, right?”

“If you would like to have them, I will make sure they are included.” Javi always lights up when wedding plans are mentioned, so it seemed like a very good topic for lightening the mood of your meal. “I can ask our wedding planner to put together a list of ideas she suggests to fill them and you can pick whichever you like best?”

“Yes.” Javi nods. “Something local. Show off the art and craftsmanship of our people.” He tells you.

“I completely agree.” The more locally made everything at your wedding, the better it all will be. This is going to be a celebration for many more than just you and Javi.

“Local sweets. A handcrafted piece of jewelry that commemorates our day?” He suggests. “I want that to come from my personal wealth and not the budget.”

“Maybe a small pin, as the jewelry?” Something universal would be best, so it does not matter which bag goes to which guest. It will relieve an enormous headache on your wedding planner’s part. “Something symbolic, rather than the typical image of us smiling out from a white background.”

“That would be perfect. Maybe our flag? Made from local stone? Or gems, whatever you think is best.” Javi tells you. “I’ve just always loved the gift bags in wedding movies.”

"I'll see what the wedding planner thinks is doable in a fairly short amount of time and then you'll get a list to choose from," you promise him. After a few more bites in relative and enjoyable quiet, you put your fork down again and take a sip of your drink. "I've...been thinking about something. And I was wondering if I could talk to you about it."

“Anything.” It sounds serious and Javi is immediately giving you his full attention. Fork down and looking into your eyes. “You can talk to me about anything, Margarita.”

“That is actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” You reach across the table to take his hand and leave a kiss on his knuckles for good measure. “I’ve been doing some reading, and I had Bastian pull records. And it seems to me to be a sort of…unofficial Balearican tradition for foreign born spouses of monarchs to take a regnal name.” The whole concept of taking a regnal name — a name you will be known as, as queen — seemed positively odd to you at first. But the tradition seems to stem from taking pride in leading the people of these lively, engaging islands. A way of embracing the place and the people and promising to honor them. “I wondered how you would feel if…I did that, too.”

“What would you like to change it to?” He asks curiously. “I would love whatever you do, but I will still call you Margarita.” He admits with a bashful smile.

“Well…” It seems almost embarrassing, or it would be embarrassing if it were anyone but him, and you feel your cheeks heat as you swallow. “I thought…Margarita might actually be the right choice. I looked it up and it’s not too uncommon of a name. I thought it might be…romantic is the wrong word, but loving.”

“Queen Margarita?” Javi hums as he thinks about it and nods. “It would be a beautiful tribute to our future.”

“I always knew I would come here eventually.” For your whole life, you’ve waited for it. Waited to be summoned, and waited to be married, and waited to be with him. “But I only truly fell in love with this place after I met you.”

“It is easy, no?” He asks with a grin. “Our country is easy to love.”

"Very easy." You can agree to that easily. "But not as easy as it is to love you, querido."

The way Javi blushes makes you smile and he’s happy about that. Nothing is forced, nothing is put on with you and that’s what he loves. If you were just normal people, there would still be these tender affections between the two of you.

“Anyway, I just… I wanted to ask you how you felt about it.” He is blushing and he is adorable when he blushes. You shift a little in your seat and a pleased smile curls your lips. “Because ‘Margarita’ was just your name for me, and now I’m thinking about sharing it with the world. If you aren’t okay with it, I will choose something else.”

“I don’t mind.” He admits quietly, leaning in and staring into your eyes. “As long as we are together, I will happily share you with my country.”

“I’ll always be with you.” That is a promise you will make to him without hesitation. Now that you’re with him, the last thing you want is to be separated from Javi in any meaningful way.

“Hopefully your interaction with my cousin did not ruin your day?” He asks quietly. “How are your ladies doing?”

“Gabriela sat with me for some time this afternoon.” A small, mischievous smile curls your lips as you finish your meal. “My brother mentioned that it might be helpful to have some help in learning the geography and history of the country, as well as cultural tradition. Gabriela volunteered to be my tutor, essentially. And she’s been wonderfully helpful.”

“Good.” His affection for Gabriela will always be there, but it has shifted to a more brotherly love than anything else. Or perhaps it was always meant to be that way and he had been rebelling against his fate. Regardless, he’s happy you and Gabriela have formed a friendship. “She was much better in her studies than I.”

“She and my brother are also getting along very well,” you venture, wondering if that is too sensitive or inappropriate of a topic. True that Gabriela is married, but it’s abundantly clear to anyone with eyes that they are miserable, and she did not make the choice to marry Lucas willingly.

“Do you think there could be something there eventually?” He asks softly, knowing that it would be unlikely unless Lucas were out of the picture. Gabriela was loyal and would never shame the royal family with a divorce, even though she should divorce her husband.

“Maybe?” It’s just theoretical right now. Just a little gossip. But you know that Javi’s comfort level with the situation means a great deal to everyone involved. “Nothing will happen, of course. Not with Lucas in the way. But I think it’s sweet.”

“I want her to be happy.” Javi tells you. “As happy as we are.”

“That’s very admirable.” You admit, knowing that there are a lot of complications in the way of anything realistic. Still, you offer him an encouraging smile. “But I don’t know if anyone is as happy as we are.”

“It is quite a lofty goal.” He teases with a smile. “Perhaps it can be achieved.” He still marvels over how lucky he is and is grateful for it.

“Perhaps.” Just knowing how much he loves you makes your heart soar, and the familiar warmth returns to your cheeks. “Although it is a very lofty goal.”

Javi pauses for a moment, and he frowns as he reaches for your hand. “As long as you are never uncomfortable.” He shakes his head, aware that it’s coming out wrong. “As long as you know my feelings are genuine and I no longer will ever think about any woman the way I think of you.”

“I think the fact that you’ve stayed friends with Gabriela after breaking up speaks volumes about both of you as people. You’re good and kind and deserve to have those things visited back to you. And besides,” you reach out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Gabriela is also my friend. I want her to be happy, too. And my brother is a fantastic guy. She’d be lucky to have him.”

“Gabriela would be a wonderful partner to anyone who wishes a partner.” Part of Lucas’s problem is that he thinks he’s better than everyone. He had decided on Gabriela simply to hurt Javi.

“And Lucas deserves a good clobbering.” It’s mumbled, but only slightly, and you definitely mean it. In fact, you’d like a hell of a lot worse than a clobbering to happen to Lucas Gutierrez. A lot of people would.

Javi smirks slightly, hearing you perfectly but he doesn’t comment on that. “And what if Maisie?” He asks. “How is she settling into the role?”

“I think Maisie might have been born for it,” you chuckle. Javi clears away your empty dinner plates and you uncover the slices of Basque cheesecake smothered in cherry rioja sauce that the kitchen made for your dessert tonight. “Her husband is away on business as of this morning so she’s taking the chance to buckle down in helping with wedding and coronation plans.” Sending Javi a smile as you set out the smaller plates, you lean on the banister beside your small table while he pours out the last of your cocktail pitcher. “I think she deserves a very large ‘thank you’ after all this is finished. Gabriela does, too.”

“Perhaps a girl’s weekend on the royal yacht?” Javi asks, wondering what you had in mind.

“I was thinking of a getaway for Maisie and her husband. Something wonderfully romantic where they don’t have to worry about anything but enjoying themselves.” The first bite of cheesecake makes you both groan happily and break out into contented grins. “Maybe by that time Gabriela will be able to spend time with whoever she wishes.”

“Perhaps.” Javi frowns slightly. “If – if Lucas is as bad as we think that he might be, we will have to circle the wagons, as that American saying goes, around Gabriela. She will be distraught.”

“I would think she will be glad to be free of him.” You do shake your head, though, and nod. “If his true colors turn out to be as black as we suspect, we will take care of Gabriela. Make sure that she comes out of the thing unscathed.”

“Yes.” He nods seriously. “It will be good for her to be your lady if everything is as bad as we expect.” He admits quietly. “I am so sorry that you have been thrown into such a mess, amor.”

It might surprise him to hear, but the truth comes out of you alarmingly fast as you sit together at the little balcony table. “I don’t care,” you tell him truthfully. “I’m just glad that you didn’t have to go through all of this alone.”

He pauses, in awe of you and picks up your hand. “You are the most gracious and loving woman.” He murmurs softly. “I hope to never take that, or you, for granted.”

******

"Your Highness." Sebastian has been in and out of your office all morning, but this time when he steps inside he has a much more determined set to his face. "Inspector Jefe Blanco is here to see you."

"Oh, good. Excellent. Bring him in, please." Waiting for the Chief Inspector's arrival this morning has had you on edge. It will be good to get all of this out of the way and put the evidence into the hands of professionals. "And Sebastian, will you stay, please? While he's here. I would feel more comfortable."

“Should I order some tea?” He asks, knowing that it might set the tone from the grim talk into a more open conversation.

"I asked the kitchen to prepare a tray this morning. If you could just ring down and ask them to send it up?" His instincts are good and you appreciate your brother's attention to detail, especially in these moments. "I'm sure that will put us all a bit more at ease."

“Good. I will have Flores bring it in so no more staff than necessary needs to come into the room.” Sebastian decides. He will instruct the staff to leave it outside with your personal maid.

"Thank you, Bastian." For one more second, it's just you and your brother in a room, and you flash him a grateful smile before putting your official princess countenance back on. "Please show the Inspector Jefe in."

Sebastian nods and moves to the door, opening it and stepping back to allow the very official visitor in. It’s clear the man has taken special care with his appearance, every medal shined and his uniformed neatly pressed.

"Thank you for making time to come and see me this morning, Inspector Jefe." You stand from your desk and shake the man's hand. He has been very diligent and professional in investigating this case but you have to admit that you have now known the man quite a bit longer than you would prefer. In a perfect world, this case would have been over before it began. "I'm afraid I have some information to share with you, but I do not know how helpful it will end up being."

He frowns slightly, confused as to how you can have more information. “What do you have, Princess?” He asks curiously. “I must confess I am surprised to have been contacted by your office.”

"I had a conversation yesterday with the Count of Ibiza that...unsettled me." Polite wording is necessary here, so that you don't appear to be accusing Lucas of anything outright. "The conversation was videotaped by our security system here in the palace, and I would be very much gratified if you would consent to watch the footage with me and tell me if there is anything to it. If the count's manner seems suspicious, and his threats genuine, as I suspect they are. Or if I am perhaps too sensitive to the topic being touched so deeply by the late king's sudden death."

“The Count has an excellent reputation.” The inspector informs you, a little wary when it comes to potentially implicating members or the royal family. “However, he was slightly evasive during questioning.”

"It is my sincerest hope that my worries are unfounded," you lie as cleanly as you can. It is the only lie you have ever told the inspector and what you do hope is that it stays that way. "But I will not claim any kind of expertise in law enforcement or investigative technique."

“Even though you say there is video evidence of the conversation, I find that it is always helpful to have someone describe the interaction. Posture, tone, facial expressions cannot be accurately displayed at times through a security system.” He explains quietly, pulling out a notebook from his jacket pocket. “Princess, will you please tell me about this conversation with the Count?”

"Besides deeply insulting both myself and King Javier, the Count outright stated that he believed the late King Miguel made the wrong choice as to his successor and expressed anger over not being considered in the choice. Or, rather, not being chosen outright." You pause when Flores brings in your tea tray, thanking her as she pours out three cups and sets one beside each of the three of you seated in the room. "Thank you, Flores. We'll manage from here."

“Yes, your highness.” She bows respectfully as she eyes the inspector. There are many questions as to why he is here, but she won’t voice them.

“So, you see, Inspector,” you continue once the door is shut securely behind your maid. “When outright statements like that are made in the same conversation where the Count also voices his opinions that King Javier is not fit to rule, or that I have some ulterior motivation for being here and accepting my role in his country…it makes me quite worried. That perhaps the Count may not have the most honorable intentions after all.”

“I can see why that would raise your suspicions.” He frowns and flips back through his notes to look at the impressions he had jotted down from the interview with Lucas Gutierrez. While some of the men question his old-fashioned methods and claim that he wants to model his investigative style after American style gumshoes, he finds it good to have those notes easily accessible rather than having to go back to the system computers. “And you say that he felt like he was threatening you?”

“I felt that he was threatening the king.” The clarification is important here, you know that. But you’re very glad to have your brother in the room with you to be an emotional anchor so you don’t end up seeming distraught or too forceful with the inspector. “The Count made it very clear that he did not consider me worth threatening. He appears to regard me as an ornament to His Majesty. Which is insulting, but not threatening.”

“I hope that regardless of what I find, you informed his majesties security team?” He asks seriously. “Another king lost in a short span such as this would throw our small country into chaos.”

“It would.” Especially considering Lucas is the next in line to the throne. A horrible alternative that you can’t even begin to comprehend. “And I have. I informed His Majesty and he has taken it to his team.”

“Good.” Inspector Jefe might have some private concerns about the new king, but he would never dream of making them public.

“With this background, will you be willing to watch the footage that my security team gathered yesterday morning?” Convincing him that it is worth looking into Lucas again is the key here, even though you know it’s a hard sell. As the Count of Ibiza, the people have come to mostly love Lucas Gutierrez. But they do not see his true nature.

“I have learned in my time as an inspector that some people’s true nature is always concealed until they believe they are immune from reproach.” He picks up his tea and takes a polite sip. “Would you be able to provide a copy or would I need to view the footage here only?” Sometimes the security for the palace had certain protocols in place that he would not be able to change.

After discussing it with Javi, Julius, and the head of security, it has been decided that a copy of the footage could be handed over to the police for their own use, and you open your desk drawer to retrieve it. “The copy has been made for your use, but of course I expect you will want to view the original here as well so you can be assured that no changes to the footage have been made.”

“Thank you, Princess.” He nods his head slightly, grateful that you understand the delicate nature of these things. “Once I have reviewed the footage, I may have more questions. Would it be possible to request some time in your schedule if that is the case?”

“Of course.” In fact, you would be concerned if he didn’t have more questions for you. “My assistant will make sure you are afforded access to me when necessary. This investigation remains of the utmost importance.”

“I appreciate that.” He knows that you must be busy, the announcement of your wedding accompanying the coronation had been announced and it wasn’t too far away.

“Just as I appreciate you being available this morning.” The footage is already queued up on the computer display monitor on your desk, and you turn it to face outward so both the Inspector and Sebastian can see. “Cooperation is everything in these matters.”

“The tales of your wisdom have not been underestimated.” He hums, turning to the screen and leaning forward so he can watch.

This is the fourth time you've watched this conversation, not to mention the fact that you lived through it the first time, and while the Inspector Jefe listens to Lucas spit his vitriol, you sip your tea in silence. Every time you listen to him it makes you angry all over again. But you can't afford to show any kind of anger in front of the inspector.

There will be several notes that come from this video, and he frowns as he looks back up at you. “This is very disturbing.” He admits. “The count did not know that he was being recorded, yes?”

"That is correct." It's a relief to hear that the investigation will be taking your conversation into account, but you try not to show it too much. "But I did not make any effort to hide the fact from him. All areas of the palace that are in use by staff and the royal family are protected by surveillance."

“It almost seemed as if the count wished for you to accuse him of something nefarious or to reveal it himself.” Jefe looks around the room, and nods. “Please do not try to be alone with him, Princess, but let him talk if he comes back.” He tells you, standing up. “I will have to review this many more times, but I will be taking a closer look at the Count in my investigation.”

"If you need to speak with me again, please do not hesitate to contact my assistant. And if I have any other information to pass along to you, may I request for you to come in the same way you did today?" You stand along with him, showing the Inspector Jefe the respect that his position is due. "I have already made arrangements to ensure I will not be alone with the Count again. At the king's insistence."

“Absolutely.” He had been brought in through the tunnels under the palace to prevent speculation, and he understands that. “Whatever you wish, your highness.” He bows politely and thinks that you are also as gracious as you are beautiful.

"Have a good day, Inspector Jefe." That might be a fruitless wish, considering the task on his shoulders, but if anything? That is something you can absolutely relate to.

He nods again and quickly walks out of the room to leave you and Sebastian by yourselves.

Once the door shuts, you sit back in your chair and pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers and sigh. “That went better than I expected.”

“I don’t think the inspector wasn’t too surprised by your claims.” Sebastian admits, curious as to the man’s true feelings about the count. Not that he seems the type to ever say. He seemed to play his cards close to the vest.

“I think he was surprised that Lucas would admit to being so vile, but maybe that’s just me being too American and imagining all these nobles constantly play nice with each other. I can’t tell.” Now that the meeting is over, you refill your teacup and pick up a biscuit gladly. “Well, darling brother. We have an hour to kill before wedding planning overtakes my day.”

“What would you like to do?” He asks, aware that he had blocked out much more time than necessary for the meeting with the inspector.

“Javi and I talked about taking a little driving tour of the islands sometime soon. Do you think that’s something you could coordinate with royal security?” You’re not asking him to do it right now, god knows, but you do rummage in your desk with a mischievous grin on your face while you ask.

“Are we talking about an actual tour?” He asks with a laugh. “Or cordoning off lover’s lane so you can make out with the king like you’re teenagers?” He’s amused by the idea but also happy that you are so happy with your future husband.

“Say what you want, but my fiancé is ridiculously sexy.” And frankly, you’re exceptionally happy about that fact. Not just because you’re glad to be attracted to your partner, but because producing an heir is such a big part of what’s expected of you. It will not be a hardship to fulfill that duty.

He snorts and shoots you a grin. “Most of the world agrees with you.” He admits. “Which is why I’m so confused as to why his cousin is so harsh on him.”

“It’s jealousy, don’t you think?” At least, that’s what you’ve always thought. Javi was graced with looks, and charm, and privilege as well as so many other attributes — and Lucas simply couldn’t stand that his cousin was more beloved. “Lucas doesn’t see that cunning is not the only worthwhile intelligence in the world. That’s the other thing.” A moment later, you extract a travel Scrabble set from your desk drawer with a squeak of triumph. “Spanish Scrabble for an hour?” You suggest, shaking it at him enticingly. “Build that vocabulary like I know you want to?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes but grins. “I don’t know why you claim my Spanish isn’t up to par.” He teases, nodding and sitting down beside you. “I’ll still kick your ass at scrabble, Princess or not.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

TKQ: @storiesofthefandomlovers @mimimarvelingmarvel @patti7dc @missladym1981

My Masterlist!

[teecupangel]

In a hidden cove along the coast, a mermaid and a talking bird had a standing appointment every Tuesday at dawn. The mermaid, with her shimmering tail and flowing hair, would await the arrival of the bird, perched high on a jagged rock. The bird, with feathers that glistened like sunlight on water, was special—not only could he talk, but he could also read the human language, a skill the mermaid lacked.

Each week, the bird brought a new story. Perching close to the mermaid, he would read aloud, his voice filling the air with tales of distant lands, brave heroes, and magical adventures. The mermaid listened intently, her wide eyes reflecting the wonders of the human world she could not directly access.

One particular morning, the mermaid arrived with a spark of excitement in her eyes. As the bird settled on his rock, she began to speak in her musical, lilting voice. She shared an idea for a story that had blossomed in her mind, a tale of wonder and adventure.

The bird listened carefully, his head tilting to the side in curiosity. When the mermaid finished, he promised to take her story to the ferret who writes. The ferret, known for his nimble paws and keen mind, lived in a cozy burrow near the edge of the forest. He was the best scribe among the animals, capable of turning any tale into a beautifully written manuscript.

The bird flew to the forest and found the ferret at his desk, surrounded by piles of paper and ink. He relayed the mermaid’s story, and the ferret eagerly began to write, his paws moving swiftly across the parchment. By evening, the story was complete, and the bird took the freshly written pages and soared into the sky.

His next destination was the pegasus, who lived on a high plateau where the clouds touched the earth. The pegasus was known for her speed and grace, able to fly across vast distances in a single day. She greeted the bird with a nod, and he handed her the manuscript. Understanding the importance of her task, the pegasus took off, her wings beating powerfully as she ascended into the heavens.

For days, the pegasus flew tirelessly over mountains, valleys, and rivers, until she reached a distant land where the story was meant to be shared. She delivered the manuscript to a wise owl who resided in a grand library. The owl, with his knowledge and connections, ensured the story reached many eyes and ears, spreading the mermaid’s tale far and wide.

In the letter it says: "Came across this anime where a guy turned into a vending machine and Desmond turning into that would be really helpful just by giving medicine and other supplies.

P. S Not sure if I asked this before."

You sent this last month and I finally

The anime in question is Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon

The first season is only 12 episode long so if you’d like a unique take on the protagonist getting isekai’ed.

It will definitely be OP because Desmond could turn into any kind of vending machine and there’s a lot of variety that he can play with.

We can even give him a helping hand and make him be able to change to any vending machine made even after 2012 so he has more option.

But he has to unlock them, of course.

In this one, he’s gonna be placed in Jerusalem’s bureau first because no one is strong enough to carry him around all the time and it will be a team effort.

He’ll appear in the bureau a day before Malik arrives as the new Rafiq and he’d ask the novices what this strange box is.

Due to the mission’s failed attempt, all of the people in the bureau are new and no one knows what it is. Someone suggested it must be something the last Rafiq had and they just let it be because it wasn’t doing anything strange.

Then it started talking to them but it’s all stock phrases like “Hello there!” “Too bad” and “Please insert coin.”

Malik ordered that no one touches it and he starts trying to figure it out.

Then Altaïr appeared and Malik is too annoyed (and sleep deprived) to be in Altaïr’s presence.

And he forgot to tell Altaïr to not touch the strange box that has been lighting up and trying to catch their (it’s really Altaïr’s) attention.

Altaïr, being the smart person with idiotic ideas at times, does give it coin and gets yuzu hot tea.

By the time Malik returned, Altaïr had tried out everything and has found out:

(1) the device can change its inventory AND form

(2) the device can understand them but can only reply with stock phrases (they already had a phrase for “yes” and “no” in place)

(3) the device’s name is Desmond

“How do you know its name is Desmond?”

“His” Altaïr corrected before shrugging as he answered, “It feels right.”

====================================

“Uuuhhh… this one is addressed to the grand library but there’s no name on who it’s supposed to be for?” The courier asked as he looked over the large stacks between him and the alchemist who looked busy doing who knows with the cauldron.

“I don’t know who to address it to.” The alchemist answered before waving a hand absentmindedly, “The grand library will take care of it. They’re used to me anyway.”

He wasn’t sure about that but he wasn’t going to argue with someone close to a large amount of hot liquid.

“Alright then.” He placed the small… keychain?

He wasn’t exactly sure what this rectangular shaped thing was supposed to be.

But he’ll make sure it gets to the grand library at the very least.

“See you tomorrow then?”

“Yup!”

The courier left the atelier that smelled like… steak?

[igotanidea]

The Fear: Jason Todd x Fem!reader part 3

part 1

part 2

A/N: Please, don't hate me for taking it slow :D :D And let me know if anyone wants a tag.

When her phone rang Y/N was halfway through her little science project. She spend last two months trying to come up with some crazy formula that would be the cure to the new version of the latest found virus. Still futile, but every other attempt brought her closer to the success.

“Oh, get lost…..” she muttered with zero intention and zero willingness to pick up, yet still glancing at the screen. Dick Grayson. Oh, ok. This probably wasn’t a social call.

“Dick? Hey there boy wonder, been a while” she answered, still hoping the bats weren’t in any trouble. Grayson was charming as usual, but his cheerful, flirting tone did not make her lower the guards down. And that instincts quickly turned out to be right when Tim intercepted the phone and simply explained Jayson got into trouble. That was all she needed to know, no more questions necessary. She made them a promise when she left Gotham.

“I’m on my way.”

 Y/N knew the boys for quite a while. She wasn’t born in Gotham but for inexplicable reasons her family moved there when she was 10. Her father, much like herself now, was a scientist who was fascinated by Scarecrow’s fear gas and made it his personal mission to crack the formula and/or find the antidote. Of course, he failed miserably, being exposed to the extreme amount of toxin himself and as a result – going crazy and ending up locked in the mental hospital. Y/N was 12 at the time. Her mother went through a nervous breakdown because of what happened to her husband and a few months later ended up in the same ward at the same hospital leaving the poor girl alone.

Hm.

Poor girl was smart enough to escape the claws of foster care for three whole months, just because she was way too smart for a kid her age. She knew where her parents kept the money, she was overly familiar with the way Gotham used to function, what places to avoid and what facilities were somewhat safe. She learned all of that through careful observation. And she had her father’s chemistry and science books and research so it was enough to keep her occupied and not get into any trouble. She was attending school, being the quiet, silent student, keeping her amazing brain and mind at bay just to avoid anyone’s attention. Being invisible was the only way to stay out of radar. Also, that little girl was dealing with pain, loss and rage. She hated Scarecrow for obvious reasons and took her father’s mantle in finding the antidote to that freaking gas.

After said three months however, during one of her experiments, she had a little accident and the little explosion she caused, resulted in covering her house in the cloud of chemicals. Fortunately, they weren’t detrimental for human health, unfortunately the blast was big enough to alarm the neighbors and to make two vigilante show up at her door. Batman and Robin took it upon themselves to inspect the place, since the cloud was green – the same color as the fear toxin, so they had reasons to believe Crane was involved in whatever happened. When they saw a little girl, only a few years younger than Robin (Dick at the time) they were shocked. Or at least, Dick was, since Bruce would never resort to something so petty as “shock.” After a long conversation, batman was ready to leave, but surprisingly Dick opposed to the idea making a point of why Y/N mustn’t be left alone, and what could happen to her and her extraordinary skills in the foster care. Somehow, this was convincing enough for Bruce to take the girl under his wing. After all, she could have been useful.

They revealed their secret identities to her and quickly figured that she would be the best imaginable addition to the team. Even if she wasn’t interested in field op and was not qualified for that, her behind the desk work was invaluable. She put hours and hours of work to create chemicals and mixtures for Dick and Bruce to use on patrol. She came up with the antidote to Ivy’s poisons. She developed and enhanced the gadgets. And yet, her mission and purpose was still to be fulfilled. Slowly, the bats started to call her “The Chemist.” Tacky enough to keep her safe.

She stayed when Dick left and became Nightwing.

She was there when Jason was appointed new Robin.

She wanted to leave when he was killed by the Joker. It was too much for a fifteen year old girl who was infatuated with the boy. Even if she never cried. Never. After all that happened to Todd she became cold, a bit vicious, more guarded than before. If it was anyone else, Bruce would get concerned about the risk of her becoming a sociopath, but Y/n never showed any sign of falling into mental illness. If anything, she became more focused, more observant, more vigilant, more dead-seton defeating all the Arkham freaks running around Gotham. With silent weapon – poison, toxin, whatever. For two years she was distant and unapproachable by anyone, except Dick and Alfred. The situation changed when Tim arrived at the manor. His observational skills, workaholism and insight were perfect complement to Y/N’s ambition and passion. They became the best of friends, forming a real brother – sister bond. The one she never had before or after. Damian who came last, accepted her, but they were both struggling to open up to one another.

She was finally getting though her past when magically, after five years some new villain appeared in Gotham.

“Red Hood?” she frowned “but isn’t it what Joker used to call himself before?”

“Yes.” Bruce nodded

“So?”

“So? “ now the Batman was frowning, girl’s condescending words did not fit in the situation.

“What do we do? Do we  use any of my mixtures on him? Do we tranquilize him? What’s the big plan, Bat?”

“Me and dick are coming after him. You’re staying here.”

“What’s new?”

“We’ll let you know if need for any of your toxins arises….”

The rest of the story is probably known to all of you. You know, the Lazarus Pit, the resurrection and the dramatic exposure of Red Hood’s real identity – Jason Todd himself. Only he was not himself, at least not the one she knew. He was more aggresive, more violent and unpredictable. And even more emotional then before.

One night, when she was walking home from work he just grabbed her from the street (of course scaring the shit out of her) and in some crazy, angry, unhinged words confessed to being in love with her. And then he kissed her.

But she was smarter than fall for him again and fought against her own heart. After all, being a chemist she knew and saw better than anyone what was the effect of Lazarus Waters on his organism. And from then both Y/N and Jason were dragged into crazy circle of pushing and pulling each other away.

Up to the point where she couldn't take it any longer and left.

Leaving him heartbroken. Utterly defeated.

Sad part was that he broke her first.

But Y/N was not completely heartless. She still stayed in touch with the boys and promised them, that whenever they needed her she would always come. Even if the wound of parting ways with Jay was still fresh.

part 4

@pinksirensong

@shadow-pancake9

@lwtmonster91

@your-local-cryptid87

@@princessbl0ss0m

[lucydoodlessometimes]

alright guys. i have more miraculous-ish content. 3rd pic is felix, marinette, kagami, and nathaniel from left to right. I haven't done a nino yet, but he'll be there when I post a finalized version I swear. Also, either Juleka or Rose, though I havent decided on which.

SO. bit of context before i yap under a cut. this is a co-op work (and potential series of fics) with @frickifiknow and so I only have half of the cast to design; hence no adrien, alya, or chloe in my lineup. they will be yapped about, and perhaps drawn by me, but maybe dont hold your breath. ALso, this is a rewrite, inspired more by the fandom than the actual show (though I am passively re-watching it currently, so we'll see) and will kindof sortof overhaul the entire premise. but that all goes under a cut, so i will see you all there.

alright SO. hi folks. miss me? Miss my rambles? no? your loss, because my yapping is immaculate.

Starting with the world!

There are 12 kwami in total- i love the Chinese zodiac for the show, but I personally don't want that many characters to be active. This will feature a main cast of my personal favorite characters from when I watched this show, and not much else because this is for personal pleasure, not objective quality. Each kwami has a pair, which corresponds to a unifying concept. These arent wholly ironed out yet, but they go: existence, defense, time, devotion, guidance, and experience. more about them and their kwamis to come.

this runs on a multiverse that the kwami of broken worlds can and do break. the idea is that after hawkmoth, the miraculous holders face the breaking of whatever has held the "antikwami" at bay this long, and have to gain higher power to defeat themselves and protect their world, thus allowing us to move on from gabriel agreste as a villain long before season five. The antikwami can only exist in this timeline separate from their counterparts because they are currently fulfilling a separate role; they would (and have) sort of merge into the kwami of this world if "redeemed". The kwami chose to be bound to the miraculous and to human holders in ancient times, as doing so managed to weaken their antitheses as they entered this timeline due to the natural balancing of, like, natural law. what is must be undone, or whatever. The antikwami tend to also pick "holders" of a sort, but it's... a worse process, overall. They cloud one's judgement, enhance all their worst traits, the works. more to come on them, i haven't ironed out all the cracks just yet.

All of my designs hinge on being relatively young versions of the characters, as you tend to get more power as you get older, and as you gain experience with the miraculous. Early on, any animal parts will be stuck onto clothing, with ear and horn details coming from masks and tails being attached to belts and capes. later, more high-powered designs will look grander and feature more naturalistic inclusions from the animal (including functional wings for ladybug, possibly) as the holders grow closer to their kwami.

It's 2am, I have school in the morning, and I gotta go. Thanks for reading, or not, reblogs > likes, like and subscribe or something, gn

[serpenndragon]

I love your art OP<3 Could you explain your art of qbad? I see you draw him as a demon, but I've also seen him as a shorter demon and even a human or a mix. I would love to hear your reasoning!

OH MY GOSHHHH I would love to

So in my HCs, Bad is a Wither Demon! They are more or less my fancy vision of a Wither Skeleton, obv his design has come VERY far and you wouldn't know that if I didnt mention it probbaly LOL

Wither Demons cannot typically shapeshift, or have other forms but Bad can because he learned magic and uses it frequently! So his "true" form is his big 9'6 one, but the one he uses most often is his shorter demon form to help blend in, be less scary, and for practicality and fitting in smaller spaces.

This is about the size comparison?? kinda?? bad is wearing platforms in the first render though LOL There arent many demons who live in the overworld, so he's self concious about his size and certain features like his mouth and tail/feet/wings In his smaller form, his wings are way too small to carry him, or even glide so theyre essentially useless besides a little more dexterity I guess?? He can easily maintain his smaller form constantly, as long as he takes an hour or two in his regular form every once in a while (I have an idea that during purgatory he would abuse this and be forced into his regular form mwhaha)

ANYWAYS, his smaller form is actually one he designed himself, so most people who meet him don't know what kind of critter he is but just go w it lol

For his "human" form, that's a little different! Bad is NOT a human in my hc, that's his human disguise! It's similar to his smaller demon form, but is a LOT more tricky because of it being a whole anatomy change in a lot more ways (like going from cold to warm blooded, how he breathes, the amount of joints in his legs, the obv loss of his wings and tail, ect) and is actually one he did not design himself. He uses a spell that is veryyy very hard to keep up for longer than a few hours, and cannot decide how he looks :o but after using the spell for years he is able to maintain the form for days on end (with breaks ofc)

When he switches forms. it's like a strange magic cloud sometimes but can also be quick and subtle like a chameleon changing colors

VERYYYY old art on the second pic, but I've had this idea for years :DD he's always been a creature guy in my eyes

Thankyou sm for asking!! I love explaining my ideas and designs SO MUCH so please do feel free to ask about anything :D

[floofybeanie]

Intro post!

Hi everyone! This is @astral-wings art and furry sideblog. I've been meaning to make it forever now but I kept forgetting

I've been a furry for nearly 8 years. The fandom is a massive autism comfort and special interest <3

I mainly draw furry art but I'll occasionally draw humanoids as well

This cloud dog shithead is my primary fursona Bean! They've been around ever since 2017 and brought me much happiness and comfort. Bean is also my online persona and what most people know me as!

They have different powers and abilities, such as shapeshifting, electrokinesis, and healing. Oh and I forgot to mention that they're op af but that's not relevant :3

#bean's beans is my tag

[as-i-watch]

Do you know what the biggest lie ever told in one piece is?

"There are only 5 devil fruits that can fly"

I mean Pell sounded cool when he said it but it has gotten worse over time with every devil fruit that appears.

Let's go down the list from least to most ridiculous DF users who can fly.

ACTUAL BIRDS:

-Pell [Bird Bird fruit: Model Falcon]

-Marco [Bird Bird fruit: Model Phoenix]

-Morgans [Bird Bird fruit: Model Albatross ]*

*Morgans is flightless in his hybrid form, but Albatrosses can naturally fly for long distances*

-Buzz [Bird Bird fruit Model eagle]**

**Buzz is a noncanon character from the movie One piece strawhat chase. He is a dog**

OTHER FLYING ANIMALS:

-Cub [bug bug fruit: Model rhinoceros beetle]

-Bian [bug bug fruit: Model hornet]

While bugs are known for crawling, these two tontatas have DFs who's species can naturally fly.

-King [Dragon Dragon fruit: Model Pteranodon]

Flying is the only natural thing that King does with his fruit. All the fire stuff is unique to King

-Kaido/Momonosuke [DF NAME UNKNOWN]

Momo can fly by summoning clouds and walking on them but dragons appear to have the innate ability to fly as shown with Kaido

BIRD BY TECHNICALITY:

-Toragatsu [Bird Bird fruit Model: Nue]

Torgatsu is a noncanon character from the One Piece x Kyoto art show. The nue is a chimera like creature from Japanese folklore that has the body of a tiger, head of a monkey and a snake for a tail. Alternatively it can be described as having the back of a tiger, the limbs of a tanuki, the tail of a fox, the head of a cat, and the torso of a chicken. It is a bird fruit because the name Nue also refers to the scaly thrush bird that the chimera mimics. Torgatsu can fly by summoning rainbow colored flames.

LOGIAS:

All known logia users [with the exceptions of Aokiji, Akainu*, Blackbeard &Caribou ] can fly via elemental propulsion. [*Akainu is in a different category]

-Ace/Sabo [flame flame fruit]

-Smoker [plume plume fruit](smoke)

-Crocodile [Sand sand fruit]*

*the presence of these 3 fruits alone in alabasta immediately invalidated Pell's statement*

-Kizaru [glint glint fruit] (light)

-Enel [Rumble Rumble fruit] (Lightning)

-Caesar Clown [Gas Gas fruit]

-Monet [Snow snow fruit]

PARAMECIA SHENANIGANS

-Shiki [Float Float fruit]

man can just straight up fly

-Trafalgar Law [Op Op fruit]

-Fujitora [Press Press fruit]

-Eustass Kid [Magnet Magnet Fruit]

The above manipulate their environment to create platforms that they ride on.

-Big Mom [Soul soul fruit]

Can use her soul to create constructs that she rides on

-Perona [Hollow Hollow fruit]

Can fly by turning herself into a ghost.

-buffalo [Spin Spinf Fruit]

Can fly by helicoptering his body parts.

IS IT FLYING IF I DON'T TOUCH THE GROUND?

-Akainu [Mag mag fruit]

Has been shown to use his magma to propel himself short distances but hasn't shown the ability to fly

-Magellan [Venom Venom fruit]

Can create pathways of poison that allow him to fast travel around impel down

FLIGHT BY TECHNICALITY

-Buggy [Chop chopper fruit]

his body parts can Float around within a certain radius of him, excluding his feet.

DOESNT COUNT AS FLYING

-Ms. Valentine [Kilo Kilo fruit]

Reducing her weight to 1Kg allows her to jump really high into the air and slowly fall down

??????

Karasu [DF UNKNOWN]

Can turn himself into a murder of crows and fly.

SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO FLY AT ALL

-Doflamingo[string string fruit]

He flies by spidermaning his way through the air, sticking his strings to clouds

-Robin [flower flower fruit]

Grows several dozen arms that she fuses into a pair of wings

-Luffy [Gum Gum fruit]

Gear 4. Contracts and expands his legs with so much speed and force that it generates thrust.

There are probably some others that I missed but these are the major ones for where you are.

This a really cool categorization and also

Perhaps it was meant that only 5 DF like actually come with wings and the other ones just elevate their powers to do all that crazy shit

Or perhaps is further evidence Oda makes it all up as he goes along (most likely lol)

[buttercupblu]

one day, the clouds parted and an Angel tumbled down, falling all the way from the celestial sphere, but landing light as a feather in a bushel of white roses. she looked up at the sky—brushing off her darkened wings—and with squinting eyes, gazed at a kingdom so bright but so rigid and said with a calm breath, "well screw you, i didn't want to be a part of that snooze fest anyway." and promptly made her own Heavens on Earth.

(in no particular order...maybe)

one punch (OP)

jojo's bizarre adventure (JJBA)

jujutsu kaisen (JJK) (lowkey regret the day i pressed play on this🤭)

record of ragnarok (ROR)

eventually attack on titan (AOT) once i'm finished with it (Levi should've been in the harem 🧍🏾‍♀️)

Angel's Heavens and why she loves them:

🩷Buddha (ROR): this man is my Lord and personal savior—watch ROR if you don't know what i'm talking about. Buddha exudes peace in his every waking and sleeping moment but try him if you want to and earn a first-class trip to Nirvana 😘. his tongue game is BRAZY (you've seen the gif) and he loves to BITE. he makes sure we do yoga together every single morning to start our day and after making sure my back is nice and stretched out, he breaks it 🧘🏾‍♀️. but he always puts me back together with soft coos, humming purrs, and tender strokes. this man is my lock screen, my peace, my husband, my everything. i keep him fed and not just with food; he will never know hunger as long as i am alive 🤍

💜Geto (JJK): mymanmymanmymanmymanmyman. if Sugu asked me to have his kids, i would say "how many baby?" and i am clearly not mother material 🥴. my husband #2 that i would turn my back against the JJK world for in a heartbeat. he could call me a 🙈 and i would say thank you. in all realness, i get geto. i really do. my little alien, my little aquarius, he just wants justice at the end of the day—truly. not power, not dictatorship, just for things to be right, safe. there's something about his maternal instincts that lets me know he would take suchhhh good care of me—he's so careful, so understanding. i'd never have to lift a finger (except when i'm being a brat) and his Suave Commercial locs make me want to wrap them around my fist and pull. he has a face card that will never decline and baby, i keep on swiping 🤧|sidenote: i need his gender pls and ty

💜Choso (JJK): my pookie-wookie puppyboi boyfriend Cho, what would i ever do without you??? idk, there's something about Chosito that sets my motherly instincts on fire 🔥 . i want to love on him, nurture him, care for him, and absolutely reduce him to tears all in the same breath. he's such a family man, so full of love and kindness and security and i adore that about him. my soft and gentle man, i feel like he's a 70-30 sub-dominate switch but gIRL do not be fooled 😩—when that man loses all sense in that cute little pig-tailed head of his, you better have an icy pack and aftercare on standby 🧍🏾‍♀️

💚Josuke (JJBA): oooohmygAWD 😩 what isn't there to say about boyfriend #2, Josuke?? the hair, the moves, the suave looks, the no-bullshit attitude. besides Dio, baby invented jojo-posing like, kneel before your Leo king?? he's so cute and creative and such a quick thinker like omg part 4 had me STRESSED, but he gets his quick wits from his no-good cheating ass pappy 🤭. josuke keeps it real, calm, cool, and collected. he's a bit too forgiving (fk Okuyasu) but that's only because he has a 💗 bigger than his hair, and when im not spending hours styling it and getting him together in the morning, im daydreaming about his love, care, and cuddles i get every night. and if i ever hurt myself, he's quick to heal my boo-boos with magical kisses🤍

💚Narancia (JJBA): my silly little goof ball pup #2, omg he's so precious and innocent and deserves soooo much more 🥺. Narancia is just...pure unadulterated love in human form. he doesn't judge, he doesn't reject, he's a bit quick to anger but it's always deserved because look at him!! how could you be mean to such a precious little thing, he wouldn't hurt a fly (unprovoked). my baby's a little slow but what he doesn't have in genius, he makes up for with his heart. and that boy can dance and dress his ass off, lets fking goooo skintight leather steel-bone corset top 🗣️

🩷Sukuna (JJK): ok listen....hear me out...balance🧍🏾‍♀️. he brings balance. everyone else is muddled and normal, soft, or innocent but Kuna resides in the extremes, is the perfect polar-opposite of Choso, and rounds out the group with good ole fashion discipline 💪🏾 (read Exercising with Sukuna if you don't believe me). he's not my favorite to deal with because the man puts the ass in asshole bUT it's good for my soul to toughen up every now and then. if you want something done and you want it done right, ask Sukuna. he'll grumble and berate you the entire time but sh*t will get done and better than you ever thought it could be. .......he also has 4 arms, 2 dicks, and a stomach mouth—good fkin bye.

🩷Saitama (OP): he makes me laugh, there's not much more to say 🤣. the most normal out of the group and the most nonchalant. Saitama is literally my best friend who never takes anything seriously just like me. our favorite hobby we do together is literally grocery shopping and i will wake my ass up every saturday morning to be by his side as he spends way too much time comparing fruits and vegetables just to get the same things he does every time. he's also the strongest and would deck everyone on this list if it came to it (argue with the manga, not me 🐸☕️)

honorable mention: Levi (AOT) because this short king 👑 cares too much and gives no f**ks at the same time and has the best resting b*tch face/face card i've ever seen 🧍🏾‍♀️

🪽current fav fic written by Angel: God is Fair|Suguru Geto since you were young, you knew you were meant for each other. he comes into your life like a storm and grows closer no matter how distant you seem. he swells and captures your heart every time he's near. so why do you keep fighting him? angel's note: full of backstory, poetry, and tear-your-heart-out angst with one of the sluttiest, smuttiest part twos in existence

🪽current fav recommendation from another author: One, Two, Three (it's not only you and me)|STSG x Reader "what suguru is trying to avoid saying is the whole cliché of 'we saw you from across the bar and we really like your vibe'," the white-haired man says, gaze flickering down your body. he looks back up, making eye contact. "but it's true, so we were wondering if you'd like to join us for some fun," he says casually, blue eyes piercing. angel's note: and it comes with an AMAZING playlist yall wtf 😩🖤

🪽current fav song to write to: Cigarettes out the Window|TV Girl

🪽fav genres: [writing: nasty, slutty, toe-curling smutty smut, thrillers, enemies to lovers, coming of age]|[reading: psychological horror/thrillers🧍🏾‍♀️, silly goofy supernatural/sci-fy like John Dies at the End (an incredible series that will have you in tears from laughter, stg), dystopian fiction, fiction satire, coming of age/young adult, the classics (surprise)]

🪽hobbies: writing, reading, skating, graphic design, being outdoors as much a possible, being at peace

beats me 🤷🏾‍♀️

nah jk.

the real reason will forever remain a mystery, but i think it has something to do with connectedness.

the first major story i wrote was handwritten in the largest binder i could find in the 4th grade and was about fairies with elemental superpowers.

my first fandom was typed out on my mom's typewriter at her job and about 40/50 pages and was about the boyband B5 (shout tf out to you if yk who they are 🗣️).

both of these instances explored hobbies/interests that i was deeply into. i wanted to share my own take on these things that occupied so much of my time with others who also couldn't escape the clutches of favorites and fandom.

i also wanted to "escape" from a life i thought was dull and bland in favor of living in a world that was bright and full of color and literally in the palm of my hands.

now i do it just because i like to torture myself 🤍

i would create an entirely new world if i could, but i'll settle for pouring my heart out on tumblr

💗first and foremost, all of my characters are 18+. i don't really care for writing aged-up minor characters but when i do, it will be mostly fluff but they will be adults at the end of the day, especially when you consider real-world timelines.

💗smut: i know what you came here for 😏. this does include some more controversial dynamics like consensual non-consent (CNC), ageplay, petplay, power exchange (top, bottom, sub, dom, "slave", etc) rough play, but these writings will always come with tag warnings because everyone likes their tea different 😊

💗fluff: ofc everyone loves a bit of fluff. tis good for the heart to remember that you have one (not me though, y'all be safe)

💗angst 😈: there's nothing i love more than stirring the fictional pot. it hurts so good

💗long ass stories that are almost always projected to be under 8k but end up breaching 10k because i have no control over my life 🤠

💗i will write characters outside of my Heavens/top fandoms but i have to be familiar with those characters/show—keep that in mind in case i reject a future request

let's be civil little angels here

🚫hardcore gore/mutilation: love to read it but cannot write it. am baby

🚫unsafe fetishes: i am kink-shaming 💩, race play, STDs (god why does this need to be said), grApe, i n c e s t, necro, actual torture, etc.,

🚫cliche/exaggerated mental disorders: like saying someone who is very tidy has "OCD" or someone with mood swings is "bipolar"; those are incorrect stereotypes AND i am not licensed to give even fictional characters those diagnoses

🚫pregnancy: gasp, ik. but listen, i have no idea what it's like to be pregnant or have kids (other than my stuffies) nor envision that for myself because it does not seem like much fun 😅 and frankly, i don't really care for it as a plot point? i'd consider it maybe for a drabble request but no major plots

🚫anything else i may be uncomfortable with down the line. i don't have a lot of hard nos but people can get weird sometimes 👀

reblogs, likes, and comments = angel kisses and i have soft, plump lips so 👉🏾👈🏾

i'll eventually open up my asks for requests but this gojo fic (teaser here) is balding me and taking up alllll of my time right now. once they do open, i may be slow to fulfill requests but that's only because i care too much about making great content 🥺. until then, you can still blow up my inbox with reviews, recommendations, thoughts, nonsensical jibber-jabber, whatever; Come chat with the Harem

[raayllum]

for snake boy callum 2.0 week day 2, snakes + stars

It takes time, but eventually Callum is pieced together enough, and Ezran can't evade enough, that Soren sits them down to have a conversation on castle security. About assassinations.

One of the guards who'd stuck around through everything—had deserted Viren's army, had fought in the tower with Soren and survived the night, had sworn true service to Harrow's heir—sits with them. A familiar face as any, but Callum still eyes her warily.

She's not his family, and she's not even Soren, and...

"There are enchantments I can set around the castle," Callum says. Sky spells are sound like alarms when sound pings off. Sun spells he can craft with help from Aunt Amaya's resources for lights and morse code, shadow traps and truth crystals, just to make sure everyone is being honest.

"Won't some elves maybe know how to undo them, though?" Ezran inquires. He's sitting in a regular chair and his feet can't touch the floor.

He's so tiny, still, and while Callum has seen first hand how capable his brother is, how much he shouldn't be underestimated—He's strong and brave, he'll get it, he'll save the egg!—Callum shakes his head.

He hates the circumstances that led them here. The assassination, the murder, and there's peace now, but their family—and the silver lining of it all isn't even here, now, and—

"It's not elves we have to worry about now, Ez," Callum says darkly. "The other human kingdoms aren't happy with you or Aanya. Even our own is..."

"At least we do not have to worry about more Moonshadow elf assassins," the guard says with a tiny, joking smile, not seeing the warning signs Soren makes with his hands, and it takes all of Callum's self control not to demand she be thrown out of the room.

In the end, he sulks and studies in his new office. Viren'd had a primal stone too once upon a time. There has to be something in his notes, loathe as Callum is go through them of course, that could be a worthwhile measure to implement. Or maintain.

Not that any of them were enough to protect his father from Moonshadow assassins in the end, but... Ez will be different. He has to be different.

Eventually, he turns to a book that's propped half open in the corner of a bookshelf he hasn't really explored yet. The sketch of a soulfang serpent pokes out, and Callum goes and pulls it from the shelf, cracking the tome open.

It hits like a blow to the chest, to be reminded of the Midnight Desert after—he focuses on the eery green glow of their eyes, the shimmering grey of their scales. They look nothing like dark magic chains at least. A passage is circled about their connection to the Moon arcanum and souls (that's almost enough to make him put the book away) and Viren's cramped handwriting: Two head — switch?

I'd switch places in a second, he'd said to Claudia that day in the library, and she'd run off with an excited gleam in her eye.

It curdles his stomach now to wonder what it was, but... They'd found a basket with snake feces in it in King Harrow's room afterwards. Opeli had shown them the court records once she'd thought they could bear it.

Maybe Viren had...

But it's awful, from the sound of it. Wearing someone else's face, your soul in a stranger's body. It's not as though Katolis doesn't have surgeries—there's the baker's son who'd needed a new kidney, a few years back—but to take a wholly healthy body and... It's the worst kind of dark magic.

Ez finds him out on one of the balconies later, feet slipping just like Callum's had on the climb up. (He can't quite manage to summon his wings again, yet, but... he's working on it.) Callum grabs his hand to help haul him all the way up. It's a moonless night, clouds obscuring the slim crescent that is there. Stars twinkle in between.

"I'm not going to get assassinated, you know," Ezran says, nudging him in the shoulder.

Callum exhales. "I know," he says, because he won't let it happen. "I just..." Tears build, cold on his face in the mid-autumn air. "You're all I have left, Ez."

"She'll come back."

Callum looks away and wipes at his nose with his scarf, sighing when Ezran wraps an arm around his shoulder. He's the big brother, he's supposed to be comforting Ezran, not the other way around.

"I saw the notes you left," Ez continues quietly. "Well, the ones Viren left, I guess. About the soul fang serpent." He runs his fingers over one hand thoughtfully. "D'you think Dad...?"

"I don't know," Callum says. "But—there's no way Dad would've agreed, even if he was given that kind of deal."

The magic was awful. It wasn't precise enough. If the spell could swap souls and bodies, maybe—let the corpse fall and then put you back in, heal up the wounds—let you be yourself, and the other person's soul and body would be severed but buried, then—

Callum pushes those thoughts away. No. No, even if Harrow could've kept his body, even if he could've kept his face, it still wouldn't be fair to whosever soul died on that blade. Not fair to the family, or husk left behind, or...

Callum buries his fingers in his hair and breathes through his nose, in and out. Ezran rests his head on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you're High Mage now," his little brother says, stifling a yawn. "I wouldn't know how to handle all this magic stuff without you."

Someone had to make these kinds of decisions, Callum reminds himself. Or at least consider the possibilities, the paths spreading out before them, even if they weren't all going to be—shouldn't be taken.

He has to be more than Ezran's high mage. There are humans, and dark mages, and someone has to know what they might be up against from the Pentarchy. Ezran needs a shield, from whatever he can still be shielded from.

And that person is him.

"Hm." Callum kisses him on the forehead once Ezran he's asleep, then shifts and picks him up.

Ez is getting heavy for this, but—Callum manages to make his way down, carrying him all the while. He passes Ezran off to Soren in the hall, the king snoozing as the crownguard hefts him up and then heads down the hall to the king's tower.

Callum hauls tome after tome off the shelves after, full of dark magic—grotesque images and wicked spells—carrying them up to his spot on the balcony, a primal flame in his hand as he begins to read. The stars have nearly blinked out by the time he stops and goes to bed.

He had to know what his brother's enemies could be capable of if he wanted to be able to stop them, after all.

(Later, he will know what he's capable of, too.)

[siberat]

how about something with someone finding it difficult to fly with a full belly 😁

Why did he eat so much?

The gathering was good fun. There was a lull in fighting, and the Auto/bots took the time to put together a dinner party to socialize. Swo/op couldn’t resist the urge to grace his presence.

Unlike his other Dino/bot comrades, the flyer didn’t mind mingling even when other mechs didn’t share his enthusiasm. Mind you, they weren’t rude, just relatively short. Sideways glances would be thrown his way as he forced his opinions into the topics of conversation. Some mechs would slowly step away while others humored him momentarily before excusing themselves for odd reasons.

Apparently, Swo/op was kind of avoided due to the ‘ferocity’ his alt mode had.

Usually, the arial dino loved striking fear into his enemies and would take that as a compliment. However, hearing this from his comrades was a buzz-kill. And yes, Griml/ock was quick to say, ‘I told you so,’ as well as the others, claiming this was the perfect example as to why Dino/bots and Auto/bots don’t mix.

Even so, Swo/op felt the urge to attempt to mingle. Tonight wasn’t very successful—sadly, Sky/fire was away on a deep space mission, and the Arial/bots were nowhere to be found. Flyers tended to be more accepting, but none other than Power/glide attended—and Swo/op could only take so much of that mech!

The saving grace was the smorgasbord of food that drowned out the tables. Every type of energy/oned goodies one could imagine seemed to be present! Some of Swo/op's favorites were the mac and cheese loaded with gooey, melted cheese and bacon, French onion soup, cyberfish, and steak, just to name a few.

So, when the conversation wasn’t working, the winged mech simply filled his plate with decadent foods and gobbled them up. Each mouthful brought a smile to his lips. Each swallow made his tummy growl with pleasure. Each plate finished screamed out for another! The dishes ranged from savory to smokey, spicey to tangy, and crunchy to melt-in-your-mouth scrumptious!

Once all the dinner courses were pecked at, the dessert table was visited. The rainbow-colored dishes were so pretty to look at! They were even better to taste—the cherry pies were ever so sweet and contained a hint of an almond flavor. Danishes were freshly baked and very soft, with their icing bursting with acidic citrus filling. The mousse had the best velvety textures, and the chocolates had a rich cocoa flavor!

The food was so good it wasn’t until an angry growl announced just how stuffed he became.

He rubbed his servos over the plump swell, its plating bulging out and feeling extremely taunt. Prim/us, his belly ached as it moaned, desperately working to digest such a massive feast. Sitting back, Swo/op huffed. Breathing became more of a chore. He felt as if he had swallowed a bowling ball! Probably looked like he swallowed one as well.

Overindulging was totally worth it. His taste buds still danced with joy at all the delicious flavors! As his servos pressed at his quivering gut, Swo/op licked his lips, feeling the post-feasting slumber creeping in. Glancing around, no other ‘bot seemed keen on conversing with him. And he was simply too stuffed to bother mingling anymore.

He had his fill. Now, it was time to fly home.

That is if he could get this heavy frame off the ground! The flier frowned. He didn’t think of this aspect, but his cozy nest beckoned, and he gave the party the slip.

Slag, just walking seemed to take up so much energy! His body felt heavy as he dragged himself from the gathering to a clearing. He glanced at the sky—it was clear with only a few clouds littering the way. The freedom of flying was calling to him, and he made his way to transform.

At least attempt to.

His t-cog activated, and gears whined and clicked, but total transformation did not happen. Swo/op tried a few times, but a clunking and grinding sound was heard each time. His belly was simply too big! Furring his optics, Swo/op growled, not believing for one moment he was grounded!

He sucked in his gut- even using his servos to manipulate his flab as he transformed. This was challenging- gears vibrated that shouldn’t have, his frame erratically jerked, and he swore he smelt a faint smoke smell. Finally, changing into his alt-mode was complete, and he stood on the ground in his pterodactyl form. Releasing his breath, he felt his plating creak and bulge: if he had eaten one more plate, he’d probably pop some paneling off!

With transformation out of the way, the next step was take-off, and he knew his graceful ascension into the sky was not going to be pretty. Nonetheless, he waddled to a clearing and spread his wings wide. After giving a final stretch, those wings began flapping. He felt his body slowly rise but did not lift from the ground. Working harder, Swo/op desperately worked his appendages, but it still felt like trying to make a boulder airborne.

It didn’t take long for his wing joints to tire, but a final attempt was made. Crouching down, the flyer madly flapped its wings and leaped into the sky. He was in the air for all two seconds before plummeting back onto the ground.

Sadly, his feet slipped out from under him, and he rolled forward, grimacing as his overstuffed belly took the impact. He then rolled head over feet a few times before coming to a stop. Once dirt was shaken from his face, the bird-former groaned. Longingly, he glared at the sky, but he could not sail amongst the clouds! He was grounded.

With much difficulty, he returned to his root mode- there was slightly more room for his widened frame. He sat on the ground, rubbing a servo over his grumbling belly. Saddened that he could not take to the skies, he did not regret the feast.

He was, however, happy his fellow Dino/bots did not join him, for their ridicule over his predicament would have been unbearable. A smile appeared on his lips as he bathed in the sun’s warmth, rubbing his servos over his swollen belly and reminiscing of all the tasty dishes he had consumed.

Swo/op truly did enjoy the party.

.... .....

Sorry this took so long! Sometimes I really get into a slump with writing!!