#not to mention the exercises I’m behind on oh lord

[jacarandaaaas]

im gonna need college to slow down so I can make silly little fanart for the silly little movies anniversary

#encanto #encanto disney #disneys encanto #I stayed up till 3 to write an essay only to find nobody else did it💀 #running on 4 hours sleep👍 #not to mention the exercises I’m behind on oh lord #my adhd brain is not built for multiple assignments on the go #we’re fine tho #last year I wrote a whole paragraph abt encanto so I need to think of something better because of my obsessive need to one up myself

[cienie-isengardu]

@mnmovdoom said to “This lightsaber…”

I'd love to hear your thoughts about Kreel and his lightsaber. This panel is amazing and it gives me so many feels (I specialise in knights, so weapons are highly symbolic) and considering what happens on Crait, this panel is just... ugh, my heart ;-;

(Sorry for late reply, I was out of country for the last week and had no access to sources to answer properly 🙂)

Oh, I have a lot of feelings about Kreel! He is one of my favorite new characters from Disney canon and it is really interesting that he is using a lightsaber, especially since he doesn’t have any ambition to be real Jedi or Sith apprentice at all. He even said so to Lord Vader's critique ("Too much a stormtrooper. Try all you might, sergeant Kreel, you will never be Sith"), as at the core he will always be a soldier:

< It wasn't the Sith who saved me from dying in the fighting pits of Chagar IX. It was the 501st. I'm a trooper to the core. Sir. >

Kreel gained knowledge about Jedi during undercover mission as Gamemaster but his opinion about the Force seems to confirm previous statement:

<The Force is a distraction, kid. Next time try fighting instead.>

Yet despite his bold words about being a stormtrooper first and foremost, Kreel likes the lightsaber and has appreciation for it as a weapon:

< Just a trooper who appreciates the value of a good saber. >

And yes, the lightsaber for sure is a useful and dangerous weapon but this weapon is strictly tied to his previous undercover job that lasted for years and the fighting on the arena was similar to what he experiences as a child in mentioned fighting pits from which he was saved by 501st troopers. As a Gamemaster he was a slave of Hutt and he was glad to finally turn against his "master". And yet, when Kreel was giving report to Lord Vader, we could see him keeping the lightsaber behind his back

and using it on SCAR Squad's mission soon after that (though I'm not sure if this was the same lightsaber he used against the Hutt, as it had a blue color while as sergeant, his lightsaber is green. Is that a simple error or Kreel picked one of the collected relics on his own?)

Surprising thing is that Kreel was allowed at all to keep the lightsaber since the Empire worked hard to erase any trace of the Jedi and comics made it clear A) the collected items were confiscated by the Empire and B) Vader doesn’t consider him as good material for Sith. Even more surprisingly the weapon has green color, not the red like Sith and Inquisitors commonly used, which ironically is one of Jedi colors. Lord Vader said that Kreel's lightsaber should be destroyed and most important, Kreel did not earn the right to it.

Kreel for sure has some experience with lightsabers and maybe Force, at least in a theoretical way, yet as the comics proved, he is not that that good with it. Once he engaged Luke Skywalker in lightsaber duel, Vader outright said nor the sergeant nor the young rebel were skilled enough for such skirmish

< You are engaging him in a lightsaber duel. Neither of you are skilled enough for such an endeavor. >

and later the Sith needed to save Kreel during exercise with training droids because the man deactivated safety protocols and set droids at maximum combat level and in result got overwhelmed pretty quickly. Vader definitely had a point there (and more patience than he has for imperial officers but I guess being one of the 501st gives people this benefit). Kreel already failed a few times and went against his boss’ orders (attacking Luke) and despite that, Vader still decided to give him a chance to prove his worth. I’m pretty sure it was less about the sergeant's potential and more about his answer, if he fails he will kill his squad and himself with the given weapon. He needed to truly believe in that to convince a Sith Lord - though this is an extreme approach, this also shows Kreel’s mindset. Either he will be worthy of this weapon that belonged once to a Jedi who died with it in hand - and was gifted to him by Lord Vader himself - or he will pay for failure (insult done to his superior) with his life and the life of his men. There is no middle ground and well, it sounds to me a lot like Kreel is willing to do sort of twisted “seppuku” (as a honorable suicide to make amends to his boss?) albeit killing his squad is a bit unfair, as they usually fails because of Kreel’s obsession about dueling Luke. So there is definitely something off about his connection to a lightsaber, as it strays more and more from Kreel’s “trooper to the core” assurance given to Vader.

On one hand, Kreel isn't aspiring to be something more than a trooper or to rise in rank (frankly, I don’t think he even cares that much about “evil Jedi” propaganda as he mainly wants to kill rebels on every occasion). On the other hand, Kreel clings to the weapon that is a vital part of Jedi or Sith culture and identity. He is not a Knight by any means, doesn't follow a Jedi philosophy, sometimes doesn't even follow a common sense, as he throws it away everytime Luke is around.

The only Knight-like mindset is about being worthy of his special saber and to beat Skywalker in duel but he isn’t above using a lightsaber to massacre rebels. So the weapon is a tool of doom as much as a symbol (gift). Which contrasts a lot to Jedi lore; yes, Jedi used their lightsabers in fight and to kill, but they generally built their weapons alone, shaping to their liking and remaking it as they pleased. Usually Jedi didn’t get their lightsabers from others while Kreel was gifted with it but we don’t exactly see him “connecting” to the lightsaber? He does not intervene in its construction / redesign to make it fit better to him and maybe this is just me, but I have this feeling it is Kreel that readjusted himself (his fighting style) to the weapon, not the other way around? Bear with me on this one, but the stormtrooper to the core would rather stick to the blaster, the soldier weapon, right? Kreel barely uses a blaster now - for example, when fighting against bunch of rebels, he consciously chose the lightsaber to slaughter them and even SCAR squad was surprised if not freaked a bit by the result. Of course, the last few years working undercover demanded from him to adjust to the “gamemaster” persona but he didn’t switch back in that regard. And sure, a lightsaber is a cool and deadly addition, but this is a weapon of the enemy - Jedi and the Force is what became tied tightly to the Rebellion thanks to Luke who became a shining star (a new hope) after destroying Death Star. His journey to Jedi knighthood is kinda an interesting contrast to Kreel’s own development (or regress?).

Luke grows more and more accustomed to lightsaber fighting, more tuned to the weapon and Force. He is growing, with each fight more and more. Though both men started with "borrowed" lightsabers (Luke had his father's weapon, Kreel’s own belonged to an unknown Jedi), Luke slowly builds his Jedi Knight and Rebel commander identity while Kreel seems to be staying in the same place or worse, actually getting worse in regard to his competence? Losing time after time, putting his obsession (hunting rebels/Luke) above his missions and safety of his men; he uses the lightsaber both against the enemy and himself. As much as the cutting arm was necessary to save himself before the ship exploded, one may wonder wouldn't it be better to just call for backup? Instead Kreel decided to rely solely on himself while metaphorically speaking, the failure takes away part of his humanity, if we go with star wars Old Trilogy / Legends (in universe) bias insisting how losing a flesh and replacing it with mechanical part is a symbol of dehumanization. 

(Also, in star wars usually people lost limbs when their opponent cut them while Kreel took own arm instead of calling for help from his squad. In a way this reminds me of Vader and the iconic “Resurrection” [Star Wars Tales 9] in which Vade pierced himself right through with a sword to kill his opponent when it seemed he was close to dying. In that regard Kreel and Vader are pretty ruthless even against their own body. I may of course overthink it but not many characters in star wars were shown as using their own lightsaber for self-harm for whatever reason, I believe?)

At this point, I don’t think Kreel truly earned the lightsaber. So far Vader didn’t sound impressed by his skills or achievements of the SCAR squad. Yet for whatever reason, Kreel is still breathing (and I seriously hope the man will survive another meeting with a disappointed boss), so there must be something worthy in him for Vader to tolerate repeating failures. Personally I suspect it is less Kreel’s fighting skills and more the dedication to serve the Sith/Empire and maybe exhibited a sense of 'honour ' (if promising to kill your own squad and himself in compensation for the disappointment caused could be counted as such). I would love to learn more about Kreel and his service in 501st, how he became Vader’s undercover agent and what the Sith taught him to better understand Kreel’s stubborn clinging to a Jedi (Knight) lightsaber of all possible things.

Also, this man definitely should get professional therapy, not a deadly weapon to a hand.

I got carried away a bit, I hope I didn't bore you :)

#star wars #my replies #sergeant kreel #i got a lot feelings about him okay? #darth vader #seems to have more patience for this one obsessive weirdo than for most imperial officers lol #and i feel the luke and kreel treating of lightsaber should be compared

[rexscyarika]

Ner Jetii

An angsty one shot between Rex and gender neutral Jedi reader. The reader is a Padawan but of age. It’s not stated who the reader’s master is or what battalion they serve with but, they talk of rescue and relief so Plo Koon and the 104th could be implied if you so please.

⚠️Mature audiences recommended⚠️

Warnings: Established romantic relationship between Rex and reader, so much angst, heavy survivor’s guilt and reader blaming themselves, reader losing their company in a seppie trap, descriptions of blood and death, dying words, past torture, ptsd flashbacks, hallucinations, mention of post Umbara trauma, mention of nightmares, reader self-harming in a way (using pain to drive their will and unconsciously punish themselves, self-destructing/over exertion, simile of falling through ice/drowning, implied capture and torture of reader, mention of capture and slavery in the beginning, fluff at the end, reader is so traumatized and paranoid, no y/n just pet names, small kiss at the end, reader needs a hug, reader gets that hug from Rex, comforting! Rex, Rex sings to you in Mando’a cause I’m a slut for that language. I hope that’s all 😭

Mando’a translations:

Cyare/cyar’ika: Darling/beloved/sweetheart

Mesh’la: Beautiful

Mando’ad: Mandalorian (lit “child of Mandalore”)

Vod/vode: brother/sister/comrade

Jetii: Jedi

Ner: My

Ret’urcye mhi: Goodbye (lit “maybe we’ll meet again)

Bal kote, durasuum kote: For glory, eternal glory

The lullaby lines are made up from a phrase of remembrance (translations are included by them)

It was just a relief mission. You were supposed to bring food and medical supplies to a remote outer rim system that had been effected by separatist blockades. An easy and simple mission, one to introduce shinies to life off Kamino. At least that’s what it was supposed to be. That was until you had led your company straight into a Seperatist trap. It turns out there were no citizens to help out, no citizens at all for that matter, those that were there had been captured and sold. It hadn’t been much of a fight, you were severely lacking in firepower and experienced soldiers. Sure as a Jedi you are worth a couple hundred battle droids but you can’t help your men when you’re engaging a highly dangerous Sith Lord. At least they had died fairly quickly with minimal suffering. That’s what you get when you have 10 battle droids for every trooper. They keep firing even after all are down. They don’t take prisoners, well not troopers anyway. Maybe it’s for the best for some of them, though. The shinies won’t have to see firsthand the effects of the war that has plagued the galaxy, or wake up trembling with the sound of blaster fire ringing through their ears at night. They will have died knowing nothing more than training exercises and stories from their vode. The others won’t have to mourn for lost vode anymore, they won’t have to worry about their place in the galaxy after the war. Not gone, merely marching away as the Mando’ad say. Marching away from endless battles and no choices for how they live their lives.

Yeah, it was for the best.

But, if that was the case why do their voices haunt you at night? Cry’s of “You could have saved us.” “We were so young.” “Please General I didn’t want to die this young.” and of course the one that nips at your brain 24/7, like a headache that won’t go away “You led us straight to them.”

You didn’t mean to. You’re loyal to the republic and your men. But you’re a Jedi right? You should’ve sensed it, the fact their was a handful of force signatures on a planet said to have billions of citizens and the presence of a Sith Lord for kriff’s sake. You could’ve sensed it. If only you had been been paying attention instead of laughing at stupid jokes with your men, those men same might still be alive.

The Jedi council had tried to reassure you

“A Padawan you still are and an experienced Sith Lord Dooku is. A fair fight it was not.”

“Dooku can mask his force signature, young one. It wasn’t your fault.”

“We cannot save everyone. We are Jedi not gods.”

But that didn’t stop the nagging at your heart. Nor did it stop the knowledge of why the separatists developed such a complex trap to eliminate such a small number of troopers. It was because of you. You had important separatist codes locked in your head, gathered from previous missions. They knew you would be easiest to get at because you were still a Padawan and worked primarily on rescue and relief missions. Missions with low firepower and minimal expectance for combat. Master Windu knew the same codes, but he is far too experienced for them to go after. If only you had trained more, longer, better. You think back to every night you snuck out to have some fun. If you had stayed and went over your studies maybe you could’ve saved them. You wouldn’t have had to hear the dying words of your Captain. Oh your sweet Captain. So loyal and eager since he was shiny right up until his last choked out battle cry of “Bal kote, darasuum kote. Ret’urcye mhi, vod.”.

Forever glory? Where was the glory in being led to a massacre by your Commanding Officer?

He had called you vod. A title reserved for their brothers and those they respected. You didn’t deserve that respect. You weren’t a comrade that had fought valiantly by their side, you were the person that was supposed to protect them, and you let them down. The Mando’a farewell directly translates to “maybe we’ll meet again.”. If there is an afterlife and if you did, you don’t think you could look them in the eyes.

The trauma supporters the council had directed you to talk to when you got back had told you these thoughts were normal. “Survivors guilt” they had called it. As the only survivor your brain tries to tell you it was your fault. But, you weren’t a trooper that had managed to survive. You were the commanding officer. They told you that didn’t matter, it wasn’t your fault.

You wish everyone would stop telling you that, as far as you’re concerned, it was. So you tried to do everything you could to never let that happen again. You brought experienced men on relief missions, ignoring their complaints of this being a shinies job and a waste of their experience. You spent your time either sleeping, eating, training or researching new strategies. Not that your sleeping actually involved much sleeping. It mostly consisted of tossing and turning, flashes of dead troopers and... him. His sickly grin as you writhed in pain under his tortures, the blood curdling laugh as you tried to escape. You’d heard stories of how sick the former Jedi was, but experiencing it was something else. Not just the torture but his presence. Dark, looming and cold. Like falling through ice into cold water. Trapped and desperate to escape.

Every slightly negative feeling that leaked from your fellow Jedi made you freeze. He’s here, you’d think, or that Jedi has turned. So you walked around on eggshells, constantly wary and vigilant of any potential threats. Even now as you focused on the punching bag in front of you were scanning, reaching out with the force to sense any threats. It was becoming exhausting, so you opted to let pain drive your will. Not even bothering to wrap your hands as you threw punches at the bag. Your fists began to slide off the bag on account of your blood staining it red. But you didn’t stop, truthfully you didn’t even feel the pain at this point. You couldn’t tell if the red on your hands was your own or the memories of fallen troopers’.

“I should’ve fought harder.”

You hit the bag with a powerful right hook.

“They’d still be alive if I had”

You opted for a jab.

“I led them straight into that trap.”

Your cross didn’t consist of much technique, just rage and power.

The same time you heard the door to the training room being opened you felt an icy breath near your ear. “The pain will end if you just give me the codes.”

“Never!” You snarled, whirling around and summoning your lightsaber from your belt. Immediately igniting it and pointing it to face the Sith Lord. I look of poor malice fell across your face, a mask to hide the fear.

You were met by a startled trooper, his wraps falling from his hands and his body moving into an instinctive defensive stance.

It took you a second to realize there was no danger, your eyes raking behind him to ensure of such. You disengaged your lightsaber and dropped to your knees with shaky breaths.

“I thought your were him, Rex, I thought he’d found me.” You sobbed into your hands, flinching as you felt a hand on your back.

“It’s okay Cyare, you’re safe, I’ve got you.”

You let him pull you into his lap. He gently grabbed your hand with his, careful to avoid the raw patches that were still oozing blood. His other hand stayed on your back to rub soothing circles and pull you tight to him. He held you as sobs wracked your body, his lips by your hairline, whispered assurances coming from them.

He started to hum softly before they turned to words. It was a Mando’a lullaby, one sung to grieving vod after a loss. You didn’t know many of the words, your knowledge of the language not extending much past the nicknames Rex would call you. It was still comforting though, his voice soft as he ran a hand through your hair.

“Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc.”

You realized you recognized what he was singing. You heard it whispered from the lips of troopers as their vode mourned. Rex had told you the meanings of some of the lines. (“I’m still alive, but you are dead.”)

“Ni partayli, gar darasuum” he continued humming. (“I remember you so you are eternal.”)

Your sobs slowly turned to sniffles as you sat there with him. Feeling a small sense of comfort and security for the first time in weeks. Relishing in the feeling of being in his arms.

“Cyar’ika.” He had whispered when you had finally gone silent, your breaths coming even and deep now. He brought the hand from your hair to your cheek, gently encouraging you to look at him. “Are you with me, little one?”

You nodded and blinked up at him with swollen eyes. You whispered a thank you as you searched his face. It was soft yet slightly taught with worry. His eyes were sparkling with held back tears, and his mouth was turned up into a small, comforting smile. He looked so young yet so old at the same time. His soft features having been hardened from war and loss, scars from injuries his helmet couldn’t protect from laying here and there. Yet, even after years as a soldier in a war he had no say in he was still so compassionate. He wasn’t cold and unforgiving like some had become. He sat there with care and worry in his eyes, looking at you like you were his whole world. Even broken and bleeding he stayed with you. If you crumbled then he would pick up the pieces and put you back together, just as you have with him. You had been there for him, calming him down from nightmares of Umbara. You had taken his broken heart and sewed it back together with care.

So, he would do the same for you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled towards him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Mesh’la.”

“But I do-“

He cut you off by bringing his lips gently to yours and sealing them in a gentle kiss.

He pulled away to rest his forehead in yours.

“No you don’t, ner jetii. Not to me, not to anyone.”

He moved to stand up, still holding onto you to support you as you stood on shaky legs.

“Let’s get you to the medbay.” He gestured to your hands once he deemed you stable enough to be able to walk.

You nodded to him and accepted his arm around your waist, your own moving to seek support on his shoulder. You made your way to the medbay, averting your eyes from curious glances at your state. You knew no one would question or mock you. Not with Rex there, his gaze flaming with warning at anyone that looked your way. You still had a lot to get through. You knew more blood and tears would be shed. That voice would continue nagging in your head and you’d still see your fallen company in your dreams. But, it would get better, you had Rex to talk you down and hold you during those times. You had done that for him and you knew he would do the same for you.

His Jetii.

#Rex x reader #gender neutral reader #no y/n #Rex x reader angst #Rex x reader fluff #I just wanna give that man a hug #also the reader cuase they need it omg #this was gonna be slight angst that led to smut to help reader forget but I got carried away #I’m not projecting ur projecting

[mortalfaerie]

To Fake an Engagement (M.F.)

part 2/?

matthew fairchild x (fem) reader

word count: 1904

synopsis: part 2 of this series. after james and cordelia marry, matthew is being a bitter idiot, and reader goes to talk some sense into him. later, they go to anna’s party and things get a little flirty. no coi spoilers.

You hadn’t expected the next year to amount to much. Certainly, Matthew would forget the deal, ask for his ring back, and probably wait for Cordelia to divorce James to try to romance her. 

But, Matthew Fairchild surprised you. He had engaged you for walks, written you letters, and seemed to often hover to your side whenever you were in a room together. For the two months to follow, he even seemed to drink less. 

However, after the wedding, he seemed to slump back, drink more, and refuse company. Finally, sick of his dramatics, you went directly to his house and demanded he see you. When he came down to the parlor after being called by Charles, he was disheveled and obviously hungover. He had flushed despite himself when he saw you.

You had glared over the rim of your teacup as he idly stared into his. Finally, he muttered, “I’m sorry.” You were frustrated, but managed to ask, “Sorry on what account?”

He shot you a glare briefly and replied, “You know what. Shall I spell it out? I disappointed you. I am a disappointment, Y/N."

You softened, and schooled your tone. “You are right that I am disappointed, Matthew, but that does not make you a disappointment. I am disappointed that you have neglected my letters, that you seem to have scorned my company. I am disappointed that you will not accept my attempts to comfort you when I have so freely given them.”

He nodded, not meeting your eyes. “I admit to that.” he replied.

“And I am hurt, because I have become so fond of your company in recent months and you have-” you shook your head in exasperation, “ripped it from me without ceremony.”

Your voice had broken on the last word, so you took a long sip of your tea and collected yourself. When you again looked up, he was looking at you with a soft, sorrowful look. “I am so, so sorry, Y/N.”

“I would prefer your commitment to change to your sorrow.” You said in clipped words. Mathew raked a hand through his golden hair, the light catching on the piece of silver on his third finger. Your family ring, still in place. 

“I can make no promises.” He said finally, meeting your eyes again. He did truly look remorseful.

“Then promise me you will try, Matthew.” you said, gesturing to his disheveled state. “I am not asking that you quit your vices entirely, I can hardly say I am without vice myself, but I am asking that you try to control them.”

He was looking into his cup of tea when he replied, “I can try.”

“Thank you.” you breathed, and set your cup down. Matthew was seated across a small, circular table in the parlor, and you reached over to cover his hand with yours. He looked up with surprise, and you offered a small smile.

“I did not come entirely to schold you.” you said. Matthew smiled wryly, and it was good to see his face not in a mask of brooding and contemplation. “You came for Oscar, then?” he asked, and before you could respond, he lifted his free hand to his lips and whistled a high tone. You could hear a thump noise upstairs, followed by the patter and clacking of clawed feet on the floor, and saw a flurry of yellow fur bounding down the stairs and into the parlor.

You laughed, your hand still over Matthew’s and offered your other to Oscar, who happily sniffed and licked it. “Hello, old chap.” you cooed to the golden retriever, who thumped his tail of the carpet in approval. Eventually, he went to go curl himself around Matthew’s chair, comforting his person. 

You smiled, but answered, “No, I do love to see Oscar, but not him.” you drummed your fingers on the table and continued, “I want you to come to Anna’s party with me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You want to schold me for my drunkenness and then have me escort you to a party?” 

You playfully glared at him, but squeezed his hand to ensure he knew you were only kidding. “Yes, I want you to take me. I want to have fun with you and my friends. No flask, though.” you added. “I would not stop you from drinking Anna’s liquor, but you needn’t bring reinforcements.”

Matthew mock pouted but conceded. “Oh, very well. You shall have naught but gentlemanly propriety from me.”

He laced his finger through yours over the table, and tapped your ring finger with his free hand. “I see you still have my ring.” he commented. 

You nodded. “I have upheld my end of our deal. I keep it in my pocket at home, as to not have my parents suspect you are courting me in earnest, but I wear it in private.” 

He pressed a kiss to the ring, and said, “You wound me, Y/N. I am courting you in earnest. Was an engagement not the prize of our bargain?”

You blushed. “Well, if they are to think that, it will be when there is an engagement.”

Catching you in your words, he grinned. “When indeed.” 

-

The night of Anna’s party, Matthew, regally and ostentatiously dressed as always, arrived on time in his carriage to escort you. Your parents had known Matthew to be a good friend of yours for 2 years now, and thought little of your sharing a carriage alone. Once inside the carriage, he pointedly showed you his pockets were empty of his flask, and you were pleased he had remembered.

You made an interesting pair upon arrival- you, dressed in an elegant but sensible blue party dress, layers of chiffon secured with a cinching midnight belt, and ivory lace sleeves and collar peeking out beyond the hems. Matthew, on the other hand, wore a brilliant purple waistcoat and evergreen colored blazer, which he quickly discarded in the heat of the party. 

You both drank, though it was clear Matthew exercised effort to be moderate in his drinking, but it was enough for you both to lose inhibitions as he turned you about the makeshift dance floor in Anna’s parlor, you giggling when he dramatically turned you and to your surprise, lifted you off your feet. The two of you staggered away from the dancing couples, laughing, both red faced, as he pulled you against his chest and your laughter was muffled in his shirt. 

He hummed to the piano music, where a vampire had seated herself and begun to play jaunty country dance music from the previous century, but to your surprise, he made no move to release you from his embrace. Neither of you did, really. When you had contained your laughter, you had contentedly rested your cheek against his chest and listened to him hum. He was warm, and the smell of him- clean linen, sandalwood, and the hint of wine that you both had earlier, was at once rich and comforting. You stood like that, lost in the rightness of the feeling of his arms around you, for probably 5 minutes before a voice caused you to jump apart.

“Matthew! Y/N! I take it you two are enjoying yourselves?” Anna asked, sauntering up to your corner of the room. 

You blushed, and busied yourself with adjusting your skirts as Matthew, quick and cunning as ever, invented a story of how yes, you were enjoying yourselves, but you had a sudden dizzy spell and had to leave the dancefloor. He had been steadying you, he claimed, and you nodded along. Anna, an older sibling herself, was a master of seeing through invented stories and gave you a look that said she didn’t believe it for a moment, but it was all good fun. Her attention was grabbed by another partygoer, and she moved on quickly.

You shot Matthew an incredulous look when she passed, and he gave you a bemused smirk. “Horrible thing, corsets? Making girls everywhere faint and swoon.” 

You scoffed and playfully nudged him, but he laughed in response. “I recall you were the one insisting we leave the dance floor.” You pointed out.

“Yes, because you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe!” he exclaimed. 

“Because you-” you set in, but quickly realized you couldn’t remember what had started you two in laughing, and the both of you began laughing again. 

Falling into a comfortable silence, the two of you leaned against the wall behind you, watching other couples dance, drink, and be merry. At some point, you leaned your head against his shoulder, but he didn’t move away. Instead, you felt him shift his weight and rest his head on yours. After a few moments, you yawned, and felt him chuckle beside you.

“Oh Cinderella, has midnight come so soon?” he teased, and you wrinkled your nose in mock disdain. 

“I think it is well after midnight now, and you are hardly Prince Charming.” you retorted.

“Is that so? If I am not, why have you danced only with me all night? If this were a ball, people would say we are in love.”

You were glad then that he couldn’t see your face, because you felt the hot rush of blood invoked by his words. You cleared your throat. “Well, this isn’t a ball.” you pointed out.

“And thank the Angel for that.” he remarked, and drew an arm around your shoulder. “Otherwise, I’m sure you standing alone with me in a corner- and, touching, my Lord,” he feigned shock, and continued, “would be the scandal of the season.”

You laughed. “I think James and Cordelia took that honor already with her confession and their swift marriage.”

You felt him stiffen at the mention, and he replied, “Ah, yes. That would be difficult to beat.” and there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. Wanting to take his mind off of it, you turned out of his grasp and extended a hand.

“Dance one more set with me, and then you may take me home.” You said.

“Methinks the lady doth command boldly.” he said, an eyebrow playfully cocked.

“I believe it is the waltz.” You smiled and added, “And now you can hold me as close as you like and no one will breathe a word of scandal.”

There was a strange, momentary burst of color in his cheeks, but he nodded and took your hand, letting you lead him again onto the dance floor.

-

On the carriage ride back to your house, you were seated on the same bench beside each other, despite having room to sit opposite. You were drowsily leaning into his shoulder, and he was tracing patterns on your hand with his, when he again tapped the ring on your hand. 

“I think you should hide this away before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin, Cinderella. Otherwise your parents will think I am courting you in earnest.” He mused playfully, echoing your earlier words. You yawned and deposited it in your pocket, immediately missing the feeling of it.

“Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me.” You murmured sleepily. He hummed pleasantly, and then said, “You know, if you did become Y/N Fairchild, we could cause all the scandal in London and no one would be able to scoff.”

You laughed, and replied, “I will consider that when you make your proposal.”

“When indeed.” He remarked again.

#matthew fairchild #matthew fairchild x reader #the last hours #the mortal instruments #the infernal devices #the dark artifices #the shadowhunter chronicles #cassandra clare #chain of gold #chain of iron

[outofangband]

little bird

OK so I had this hidden in my drafts for awhile but several people asked to see this. Regarding the creation of my little bird headcanons. 

the original is over a year old (never published though) so I have to do some major editing because my writing back then wasn’t great. unfortunately it probably won’t be my best work in terms of writing but it should be very horrific!

Maedhros in Angband.

Warnings: rape, sedation/forced drugging, mention of medical abuse, brief choking, general themes of imprisonment and restraint.

(note at the end about use of Quenya and language in general)

masterlist of stories, masterlist 

I’m hiding now!!!!

Melkor hadn’t necessarily been looking for an opportunity to play with the Fëanorian but of course he never exactly needed an excuse; He had entered his Lieutenant’s chambers to retrieve one of his schematics and immediately spotted the elf laying still on Mairon’s grand, perfectly made bed. The familiar twinges of combined lust and rage sparked in his eyes as he surveyed the son of his old enemy. 

Melkor remembered vaguely that his prisoner had been given the lhong water the evening before for some offense or another, thus explaining the almost eerie lack of movement. Maitimo’s defiance had risen to a peak lately and he had caused injuries to several guards and servants. The Dark Lord had himself caused more severe injury to him than was perhaps prudent in the long term. As a result, He had consented to his lieutenant’s request to borrow the Noldo, presumably for various exercises and tests of procedures and substances (Melkor was still awaiting the latest report).

 A silver chain around one of his ankles connected  to the bedpost, clearly for decoration as the elf could not sit up, much less attempt an escape. Maitimo was dressed in a thin sleeping gown that fell to just above his knees. Neither Mairon nor Melkor cared much for the elf's modesty of course, so he assumed it was also for aesthetic purposes. The Dark Lord had given specific instructions regarding how his prisoner was to be treated while under his Lieutenant’s care and so there was little obvious injuries to be seen. 

 Fascinated, the Vala approached, wondering if the other could sense his presence. As he sat down next to him, Melkor could see the elf’s breathing, causing his chest to rise and fall rapidly despite no other signs of life. The schematics now forgotten, the Vala placed a charred hand over Maedhros’s heart, observing a sharp intake of breath, likely the only reaction he was capable of. Smirking slightly, Melkor lay down on his side, propped on his other hand so his taller form curled around the other’s. Not seeing any need to rush, he moved his hand to the elf’s back stroking slowly up and down his spine over the thin fabric. Maitimo’s breathing increased, coming out in short gaps, his fingers starting to twitch. Moving his other hand down, he lifted up the sleeping gown, tucking it around his neck, revealing the elf’s naked and scarred body before resuming stroking his back, enjoying the feeling of warm skin and the slight, quick movements of Maitimo’s form as he gasped in panicked breath. The past few times Melkor had acted upon this urge, the prisoner’s shock was too severe to register the wider range of implications of such a violation. But now, the tonic he had been prevented escape of either body or mind  and Maitimo was now fully awake and alert, feeling the hands of the Dark Foe (the cold, sharpness of the uninjured one and the rough, almost warmth of the burnt one), his father’s greatest enemy, the reason for much of his grief, on his bare skin. 

Melkor shifted slightly so he could pull the other closer to him. He had already started to loosen his jeweled belt before placing that hand on the elf’s shoulder. Maitimo’s breathing was so irregular, it came out in little whistling noises.

 “My little bird,” Melkor crooned against the crook of Maitimo’s neck.

 He placed an almost gentle kiss upon the elf’s shoulder, looking over his face. Maitimo was blinking repeatedly, his mouth slightly opened as he continued to gasp. Ruffling his short red hair, Melkor sat up for a moment and reached over to the nightstand where he knew his lieutenant kept various supplies. He looked over the labels for several bottles before choosing an herbal scented oil. He then lay back down next to the elf after parting his dark robes and allowing his breeches to slip down to his knees. Beginning to kiss Maedhros’s neck, he reached over him so he could see the Vala undo the top of the small glass bottle and pour a few drops onto his fingers. He placed one under the elf’s nose, smearing it across his cheek.

Behind Maedhros’s back, he dipped more fingers into the oil, seeing from the corner of his eyes that the other was crying. His blinking had increased and the sheets underneath him were wet with tears. The way Maedhros’s weeping caused his breathing to become even more rapid brought the first stirrings of desire to the Corrupted Vala’s body. 

As usual such sensations brought with it pangs of rage at the reminder of the unnatural permanence of this physical form. Fingers now covered in the warm, scented oil, Melkor once more trailed his hand down the elf’s back, pausing as he reached the area just above his thighs to feel Maedhros’s panic course through his body. Sighing, he held the still body closer to him as he slipped a first finger inside. Maedhros yelped softly but could manage no other reaction. Even as a second one was added, he could only gasp in horror and shock, and wait for it to be over. Melkor kept this position for over three minutes as he used his other hand to create oiled streaks over himself. He did not want Maedhros to bleed too much, knowing that Mairon would be angered if the sheets were permanently destroyed. Finally removing the two fingers, he placed his hands once again on Maedhros’s shoulders, stroking lightly over the bruises there as he pressed up against the other, now fully aroused 

The elf’s terror was clearer than before, his breathing once again so off rhythm his gasps came out sharp and high pitched. Melkor ignored this and pressed down on the elf’s shoulders as he entered his body, giving the other little time to adjust, even if he could have.

Once in a more comfortable position, Melkor moved his hands down to rest on either side of Maedhros’s hips so he can more easily adjust and move him as he desired. The Vala kisses his back, under his neck and over his ribs gently; Maitimo’s fingers twitch again and the tips curl around whatever folds of the sheet he can manage to hold onto. Melkor can feel small shudders run through his left side, indicating maybe that the poison was wearing off. He thrust again, rocking Maitimo against him, intrigued by the near convulsive movements. A strangled gasp combined with another yelp of pain made the Vala press his lips against the elf’s pulse for a moment. It was quick and irregular but with no sign of fading, he didn’t see any particular reason to stop. Besides, Mairon would be back soon and had the tools to heal his prisoner if necessary. 

Indeed, he could already feel the Maia’s presence drawing towards the chambers as He continued, resisting the temptation to restrict Maitimo’s breathing further. Another time.

Mairon entered in time to see his Master reach his completion, biting the elf’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood as his body straightened out. Maitimo was shaking violently, every other minute or so his limbs would jerk out in almost seizure like movements.

“My sweet little bird” Melkor murmured, fond of this new term of endearment as the Maia, torn between amusement and irritation sat next to his master and prisoner, waiting somewhat impatiently for the Vala to remove himself from Maedhros and get up. He finally tapped he other’s shoulder as Melkor continued the touch the elf, now mercifully in a state closer to unconsciousness. Sighing, he got up to face his lieutenant, an unapologetic look of pleasure still on his face.

Mairon predictably gestured to the small pool of blood between Maedhros’s legs, dripping onto the sheets.

“I will have them washed,” said Melkor boredly, “But he is mine regardless.” Mairon glared at him already beginning the process of cleaning the fabric with a small wave of his hand.

“He is yours but this room is not” the Maia murmured, letting his eyes roam over the prisoner’s body, presumably for any hidden injuries.

“So be it,” said Melkor indulgently, before remembering what he had initially entered the room for and cursing softly.

Author’s note: lhong water is something I invented. Lhong is the Quenya word for heavy so that’s probably how Maedhros knows it instead of like, the actual name? There are many words in Quenya for small bird or little bird but it’s possible Melkor is using either his own language or the Valarin one. 

Oh feel free to see this headcanon here too! It deals with a graphic question someone had about the technicalities. 

Second Author’s note: hiding now goodbye 

#Maedhros #Melkor #Morgoth #Mairon #The Silmarillion #Sauron #In the Iron Hell #short writings #blind you be morgoth bauglir #the hidden hours #subtle be my blade

[wishfullyeternal]

Reid x Reader- Hurt Pt 6

Reid x Reader- Hurt Pt 6

Warnings- Mentions of violence, gunshots, swearing, PTSD, depression etc. Please exercise caution.

Words- 1544

A/N- finally got around to continuing this part! hopefully y'all like it! as always requests are open and love you lovelies!

In your mind it was all so clear, each memory playing in your head effortlessly, but when it came to words, it was useless. Useless to even try and explain what had happened, it was so simple yet so complicated, and to even speak it aloud would give Noah some kind of power beyond the grave.

"I don't know," You said, rocking back and forth slightly, feeling sweat begin to bead at your forehead, even the fleeting thought of his appearance was enough to make you visibly shake, your fists clenched and breathing erratic.

"You seem nervous, is everything okay?" You nodded and clenched your teeth, struggling to answer the therapists' question.

"It was cold, and I had just gotten off work," You trailed off, struggling to remember the events even though they were seared into your mind.

"Noah was home, in my apartment, looking for something to accuse me of cheating on him, and he found a picture of Spencer, and screamed in my face-"

"Are you in a romantic relationship with Dr.Spencer Reid?" You shook your head violently,

"Oh no, it's not like that, we're just on cases a lot together, so we've become pretty close friends," You laughed nervously, and the therapist pondered on your response, but nodded and wrote down something on her notebook. You made a mental note to try and see what it was.

"Once he was done yelling at me, he grabbed something to try and tie me, to keep me still so he could-" You took in a breath, trying to find a way to move away from the subject, but there really wasn't.

"Rape me." The therapist nodded and scribbled something down,

"I didn't have my gun, so I kicked him and we ended up fighting, and that's how I got the bruise on my face," You gently touched it and winced, but luckily it had begun to heal. The therapist then wrote something else down and spoke.

"After that though, you went to Dr.Reid's house and let the BAU form an investigation trying to find him, correct?" You nodded,

"I stayed with Penelope to help, they wouldn't let me in the field at the time," You nodded to yourself, trying to give yourself some type of confidence to get through the last of the events.

"Noah was already in the building though, and when I was getting coffee from the break room, he found me, and we both pulled our guns in a stalemate," She nodded, wanting you to go on,

"But he got into my head and made me think that it was wrong for me to defend myself, so I ended up putting my gun down and letting him take me from the break room," You shook your head, knowing it was a mistake you made that resulted in his death and maybe, just maybe, if you hadn't surrendered that quickly he would still be here today.

"Why did you let him take you out of the break room," You closed

your eyes and spoke quietly,

"Because maybe if I would have let him do anything he wanted to me, it would all fucking be over," The politeness was gone from your voice, and you desperately wanted to get this fucking interview over with so you could get back onto the field and forget about this.

"What did he say to you?"

"He told me everything he knew about me, my favorite color, favorite music, why I liked it, everything..." You faltered, trying to find the words that would make her understand exactly what you were going through, but there weren't any words that could. Of course your significant other should know these things, but the way he said them with so much venom in his voice completely broke you.

"Reid was walking in at the same time, and pulled his gun, talked to Noah, realized he was going to kill me no matter what, made a judgment call and when he moved, Reid shot him." You quickly finished and began to get up,

"Sit down please, I'm not done yet, I still have to give you my diagnosis." You furrowed your brows, there was nothing wrong with you, why would you need a diagnosis?

"Severe PTSD, and moderate depression, both are caused by the traumatic event, and can be lessened with therapy and meds, I want you to start seeing a therapist once a week and start you on Sertraline, first ten milligrams and then gradually increase from there, if everything goes well, you'll be allowed into the field in about 2 months-"

"2 months?!" You said in disbelief,

"I have to go to therapy and take whatever the fuck that is for two months?" She nodded,

"At your first session the therapist you choose will give you the prescription, so please take it easy and get some rest. I'll check in on you in two months. Know that I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, usually, I would keep someone out of the field for at least three months."

"Can I at least help in Quantico?" She thought for a second but then nodded. You thanked the lord above that you wouldn't be so cooped up at home, and went back to your desk, not before sneaking a look at the clipboard she was writing on.

Obvious PTSD, amnesia? Depression, co-dependent, prone to relationships that give not receive. Stable enough to keep gun, etc, keep an eye out for new relationships/drastic changes in mood or behavior.

You took offense to the co-dependent phrase but quickly booked it to your desk, eager to get the hell out of there. Hotch stood at your desk, awaiting your arrival.

"What did she say?" You nodded to yourself and let out a breath, composing yourself.

"Out of the field for two months, gotta go see a therapist and take some meds for PTSD, I can still help Penelope though," Hotch sighed,

"I'll see if I can lessen it for you, but from now on help Penelope and go to therapy. I know you don't want to but it's for your own good." You nodded and sat at your desk, shuffling through the immense amount of paperwork you had to do from both the FBI itself and the case before.

"What did they say, I can give a second opinion if you want," Reid looked over your shoulder and to the paperwork you were completing.

"You know you can leave that for later," He continued, you nodded.

"Better now than later. I'm out of the field for two months though, and I gotta go get therapy and meds, I can still help Penelope." Reid smiled,

"You know that's not what I meant, what were you diagnosed with," You sighed,

"PTSD and mild depression, she called me co-dependent..." Reid laughed,

"First two maybe, but only mild, and for the co-dependent part, I'm sure you know the answer." You laughed quietly, it was something you were going to have to work on, but not yet.

"You don't seem super nervous talking about it, why?" He tried to pry and get more information, but in reality, the only thing you could think of was how detached you were from the event, seeing it from the outside rather than the inside.

"I guess I'm just detached, that's all." Reid shook his head,

"That won't do you any good, therapy will help though. Do you want me to drive you home, it'll be better to be in a place you recognize." You nodded, trying to remember how you had left the place, probably messy.

"C'mon then, better get there now so we can clean." You smiled, we. Such a simple gesture, but made you feel loved.

The car ride was less than interesting, and you found yourself aimlessly scrolling through your phone, only looking up when Reid had parked.

"Nervous?" He asked, you nodded and sucked in a breath, letting it out and preparing yourself for what was to come.

You got a flash of memories from that night, and the way you ran to your car, hands still barely tied. The hallway you almost tripped down, and the doors you had to open. Reid put his hand around you, noticing your breathing change.

"It'll be okay, it's just a room, and Noah is gone. He won't hurt you again." You nodded and tried to comfort yourself to no avail. Your heart began to beat faster and faster, like thunder in your head, deafening, you could almost feel the blood coursing through your veins. You put in the key to your apartment and gently opened the door, Reid just behind you.

It was a mess. Just like how it was left. You couldn't help but place a hand on your gun, looking for any type of movement.

"There's no one here, promise," Reid said, trying to calm you down. You let your hand wander to your side, and sat down on the loveseat, where everything went down.

"Do you need anything?" Instead of declining like you usually would, you asked for a glass of water, not wanting to get up and get it yourself. Reid went into the kitchen and ran the water, but before he got to you you heard a deafening.

Crack!

Like the thunder you had heard when Reid pulled the trigger on Noah, in fact, it was identical.

Oh fuck...

Not today, not today, not now...

#reid x reader #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #reid fanfic #reid fanfiction #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #mgg #criminal minds #cm #bau #quantico

[ko-fanatic]

Blood, Guts and Chocolate Cake (Part 2)

Rating: Mature

Fandom: Danganronpa

Pairings: IshiMondo

Summary:

It seemed after the night before, Ishimaru was back to routine. The issue? Mondo wasn't previously aware of said routine.

TW: Alcohol, and eating disorders (both restrictive behaviours and B/P), mentions of disability, underage sex/sexualisation, drugs

Other parts: Part one

A/N: So, I reference a small headcanon of mine that Mondo has asthma. So fed up of it being seen as a "nerd" condition, so... The boi now has it. Not severe, but still.

Mondo made the executive decision to stay sleeping on the couch that night. Not that he was that bad off - the suite was VIP, after all, and the couch was comfy. he was a just bit miffed that, firstly, he had to do that in the first place because Mr Pretty Boy wanted to go clubbing, and secondly, there was a plush, California king sized bed in his room which was being tragically wasted. He hadn’t exactly had many chances to experience that sort of luxury, and he’d slept like the dead the past few nights. 

Maybe that was a problem. Had he just not realised? Some “Ultimate Bodyguard”, if that was the case. Shit… Little asshole, making him question things and get all shaky and crap. It might’ve had very little to do with Ishimaru, in full honesty, but he was too tired to think it through clearly. 

At least he did manage to get some sleep, despite being slightly cramped. He was over six feet tall, after all; not exactly made for sleeping on the couch. He’d even managed a rare, pleasant dream; dogs and cotton candy, Daiya’s obnoxious laugh and hanging with their friends in one of the many abandoned buildings they used as hangouts. They were such edgy little shits, but it wasn’t like anyone cared about the disused factories and crap. 

He’d been reliving the time Takemichi got his tongue piercing stuck in his jumper (somehow, Mondo still didn’t know how the hell someone did that), when he awoke. It wasn’t some crash or anything, just the usual sounds of someone pottering around, getting ready for the day. 

He groaned as he sat up, head pounding. He still felt exhausted, and he’d definitely drooled in his sleep. He turned to the window, and realised… It was still dark. Fucking really? After Mondo told him he wasn’t going out?

“Hold it right there,” He began, hoisting himself to his feet, doing his best not to fall straight over again, “I thought I said -”

Oh. He wasn’t wearing the tight jeans and such he was the night before. 

Ishimaru raised an immaculate eyebrow at him from where he was tying his trainers. “Relax, I’m going for a run,” He huffed, “I might as well get on with my regular routine, since someone -”

“I’m gonna cut you off right there, kid,” He grumbled, stretching out his back and arms, “What time is it? Sun’s not even out yet…”

“Owada-san, it’s winter,” The kid sighed, a deadpan look on his face, “It’s about 5:15AM.”

It was a damn good job he wasn’t drinking anything - he would have choked on it. Who the fuck even wakes up at five in the fucking morning, let alone after being awake at midnight? Not to mention the clothes. Mondo was praying, if the kid really was going to work out in some way, it’d be in a gym. Heating, shelter from the elements, a bench he could probably catch some z’s on because it’s not like anywhere’s going to be busy at five in the morning -

“Now, if you excuse me, I’m late for my run,” Ishimaru waved off, going to open the door before Mondo reached above him, slamming it closed once more. For a guy who worked out pretty constantly, it was pretty effortless to overpower his grip. Eh, guess that what comes from having lithe muscle for aesthetics, rather than the bulky stuff for actual strength. Not to mention the lack of warning  -

No, that shit could wait until later. Fucking focus, Mondo!

“You said routine… Have ya really been sneaking out every day?!” He demanded. He could’ve been a little softer about it, sure, but you have to understand; this wasn’t a good start to the job, especially if shit got out. Was he being overly paranoid? Yes. Did he not have a reason to be? He abso-fucking-lutely did! 

“It’s not sneaking anywhere,” The idol groaned, sounding very much like the stereotypical teenager in that moment, “I’m an idol. As such, I have an intensive exercise routine to stay trim, not to mention fit enough to perform my high-energy choreography. I just don’t see the need to wake you and have an irritable tough guy around me, when I can easily complete my run without dragging you the whole five miles.”

Five fucking miles?!

Oh, today was going to suck. Today was going to kick his ass and run him over with a truck. All because an idol needed to “stay trim”. Fuck, if the kid was any trimmer, he doubted he’d have any skin left. 

“Were the idols you guarded before babysat so extensively?” He kid questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“In all fairness, you’re the youngest client I’ve had,” He grumbled, scrubbing his hand over his tired eyes, “But kid, you’ve got to tell me when you run off. Don’t care what for. You being famous, and pretty, and so skinny… I wasn’t kidding about my worry last night. Celebrities get murdered… Or worse.”

“You think… I’m…” The kid shook his head, cheeks red, gaze staring holes into his trainers, “I understand. I don’t like it - it’s suffocating! But… I see the logic.”

Mondo smiled, turning back to his room. He had to find some clothes that passed as exercise gear… 

---

Mondo knew someone had it out for him. 

He was wheezing as he jogged, trying to keep pace with Mr Trim in front of him, but lagging behind somewhat pitifully. He had his inhaler in his bag - he wasn’t that much of a dumbass - but holy fuck if this wasn’t torture. He didn’t do track in middle school. He was more than content to work on his strength and brawling skill. 

Speaking about things he was more than willing to do; laying down in the road, waiting for the next car to come along and end his misery, was getting far too attractive. 

Conversely, Ishimaru was just about breaking a sweat, panting. His insides weren’t threatening to become his outsides like Mondo’s were. Kid either had a stomach of steel, or he was just a lot more used to this shit than Mondo was - namely, the extensive train travel and exercise. 

Actually, considering the whole “Ultimate Idol” thing, it was most likely the latter. 

That was when his legs noped out of the situation, sending him stumbling and falling. He didn’t cry out, per se, so much as let out a manly grunt of surprise. 

Who was he fucking kidding? Ishimaru heard him through his headphones and blaring music. 

“Owada -san!” He called, rushing to his side in an instant, “Are you hurt?! Can you speak?! What’s wrong?!”

Ugh, so loud. 

“What’s wrong,” He grunted, “Is that someone is punishing me!” 

Maybe a tad dramatic, but holy hell! Fuck five miles, it felt like he’d run a marathon. 

“I don’t know if I royally pissed off someone up there -!”

He pointed an accusatory finger at the idol.

“Or someone down here! Like, sorry kid, but I give! Just doing my fucking job!”

Mondo watched the idol’s carefully cute and prim expression crack apart, his dignified (if far too loud) concern quickly falling into laughter and snorts. He had half a mind to be rather offended, but the carefully crafted exterior melting into those cute as hell snorts and chortling… That wasn’t even mentioning the look on the idol’s face. Pure fucking sunshine. 

Could he not be a queer disaster for five fucking minutes?!

“You’re rather funny, Owada-san,” Ishimaru chuckled. 

“Mondo.”

“Huh?” The idol barely breathed - lord above, give him strength - staring at him wide-eyed. Of course, that tends to be what happened when he let his tongue go before his brain.

“Ya can call me Mondo, none of that ‘Owada-san’ crap,” He grumbled, and he will eternally blame the heat in his cheeks on the marathon he was sure the other dragged him through.

“Oh! Well, in that case… You can call me Taka!” The kid - Taka, Goddamnit that’s cute - grinned. He was going to have to invest in those cheesy, stereotypical sunglasses if the kid was just going to unleash that megawatt smile on him without a shred of warning. Then, the kick to the crotch he really needed in that moment - 

“Now, as you’ve caught your breath, we should keep going! Obviously such a long break isn’t ideal for cardio, but we can still -”

He just flopped down once more, groaning like a man dying.

“I said sorry, didn’t I?! Ya don’t need to keep punishing me! I fucking give!” 

“Mondo,” Kiyotaka sighed, standing once more and looking at his FitBit, “Do you want to know how many miles of my morning run we’ve completed?” 

“I don’t know, ten, you animal!”

He was sent a rather disapproving, levelling look. “Two,” Taka deadpanned, “We’ve got three miles to go.”

That truck Mondo mentioned? The one the day was going to run him over with?

Yeah, it reversed for another hit.

#danganronpa #dr talentswap #ishimondo #kiyotaka ishimaru #mondo oowada #idol!ishimaru #bodyguard!Mondo #blood guts and chocolate cake series

[goddess-of-geeks]

Grace and Power pt. 1

Reunion

This would be so much better if I came up with a name for this fic.

A/N: This is in fact not the first time I wrote a reader insert but it is in fact the most work i’ve ever put into one.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2100

You opened the flap to the tent that would temporarily house retired General Iroh, Prince Zuko and Commander Zhao. When you entered you saw two guards blocking the exit from Zuko and his Uncle with two spears.

You and Zuko locked eyes, an emotion that can only be described as shock graced his features. You gave him a tight lipped smile before looking towards your commanding officer, Zhao.

“Commander Zhao,” You said, making Iroh and the formerly mentioned look your way. You noticed a similar look of shock on Iroh’s face. “We interrogated the crew as you instructed. They confirmed Prince Zuko had the Avatar in their custody, but let him escape.”

“Now remind me,” Zhao grinned before walking up to stand behind Zuko, whose face morphed from shock to hurt and betrayal. You looked down at the ground, you hoped that you following orders wouldn’t ruin your short lived reunion. “How exactly was your ship damaged.”

Zuko looked down in defeat.

Prince Zuko and Iroh were seated across from Commander Zhao who was standing in front of his desk.

You and another guard were standing behind the young prince.

“So,” Zhao began, “A twelve-year-old boy bested you and your firebenders.”

“Wait, the avatar is twelve? You’ve spent the last, nearly three years looking for a twelve year old boy.” You said looking at the prince.

Zuko nodded in response. You looked up and pondered on that thought for a moment before mumbling to yourself.

“And I thought I had nothing better to do with my life.”

Zhao cleared his throat drawing your attention towards him.

“My apologies, sir.” You said bowing towards him.

“You’re more pathetic than I thought.” Zhao continued as if nothing happened.

You looked up at Zhao. You never understood how a man could be so cruel to a child.You knew you hated Zhao when you saw the twisted smirk that was on his face when Ozai burnt Zuko.

Zuko spoke up, “I underestimated him once, but it will not happen again.”

Zhao turned his back to the prince before stating, “No, it will not, because you won't have a second chance.”

When Zuko spoke up again he sounded almost frightened, “Zhao, I’ve been hunting the Avatar for two years and I-”

Before the price could finish his sentence Zhao turned on him hottily, flames erupting from his hand as he swept it in an arc from left to right.

“And you failed.” He finished for the prince. “Capturing the Avatar is too important to leave in a teenager's hands.” You don't understand why Zhao used that as an excuse. He watched with his own two eyes as you took on ten of his men, with nothing but a katana, during one of his training exercises.

“He’s mine now.” Zhao finished his sentence.

Zuko threw himself at Zhao in frustration and anger. You and the guard beside restrained him. While he was struggling in your grips you were rolling your eyes.

“Zuko calm down, you don't wanna do anything you might regret.” You said to him.

He ignored you, causing you to roll your eyes again.

Before Zhao could leave the tent he turned to you and the guard, Zuko still struggling in your grasps, “Keep them in here.” You and the Guard nodded.

When Zhao left Zuko gave a demonstration of his anger by kicking the table stationed next to Iroh. You and the other Guard let go oh his arms soon after.

Zuko turned to you, fire in his eyes, finger hitting you in the chest accusingly, “How could you.” He practically spat in your face.

You didn’t flinch, “How could I what?” You questioned, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked towards the prince. “Do my job?” You asked further.

Zuko crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed at your words, “Job.” He said in a sour tone. “You’re a year younger than me. How could you possibly have a place in the military.”

Iroh watched the whole interaction calmly, with a fond expression on his face. Remembering the good old days when you two would fight and argue.

“It’s not like I had a say in the matter. Zhao saved my life, sadly I’m in debt to him.”

Zuko crossed his arms and turned away from you in a huff.

Iroh stood up before walking over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder, “I am very enlightened to see you again Y/N. We should celebrate. How about some more tea!” He exclaimed. Zuko rolled his eyes, and you had a fond look on your face. You missed these two so much.

After an undetermined amount of time Zhao finally re-enters the tent.

Zuko and Iroh were seated in chairs facing one another.

“My search party is ready.” Zhao said addressing Iroh and Zuko.

“Once I’m out at sea, my guards will escort you back to your ship and you’ll be free to go.” Zhao said.

“Why? Are you worried I’m going to try and stop you?” Zuko retorted.

You felt like your eyes were gonna fall out of their sockets if you kept rolling them so much.

Zhao laughed, “You? Stop me? Impossible.”

Zuko stood up from his seat, “Don't underestimate me, Zhao. I will capture the Avatar before you.”

“Prince Zuko, that's enough!,” Iroh said standing as well.

“You can't compete with me. I have hundreds of warships under my command, and you... you're just a banished prince. No home. No allies. Your own father doesn't even want you.” 

You couldn’t believe anyone would dare utter such things to royalty, banished, yes, but still royalty nonetheless.

“You're wrong. Once Zuko delivers the Avatar to his father, Ozai will welcome him home with honor and restore his rightful place on the throne.”

You didn’t even know what you were saying, the words just began to spew out of your mouth, and you had no control over it.

Zhao turned on you, his face red with anger. 

“You’ve only been here two weeks, what makes you think you have the right to speak to a Commander in such a way.” Zhao growled at you.

You opened your mouth to retort but he cut you off.

“If Fire Lord Ozai really wanted him home, he'd have let him return by now, Avatar or no Avatar, but in his eyes the so-called “Prince Zuko” is a failure and a disgrace to the Fire Nation.”

You tried to speak up once more, but his time Zuko cut you off. You swear you were gonna stab someone.

“That's not true.” Zuko said.

Zhao turned to Zuko with a nasty face, “You have the scar to prove it.”

Zuko launched himself and the commander and you made no attempt to stop him. 

“Maybe you'd like one to match!” He shouted in his face.

“Is that a challenge?” the commander questioned.

“An Agni Kai. At sunset.” Zuko said.

You froze. Yeah you wanted someone to put Zhao in his place but you didn't want Zuko to fight in another Agni Ka, considering what happened at the last one.

“Very well. It's a shame your father won't be here to watch me humiliate you. I guess your uncle and your little girlfriend will do.” Zhao said smugly.

Zhao turned to walk out of the tent, he stopped and looked at you before saying,”Your actions will cause you to suffer major consequences. I hope you are ready to face them after you have to watch the prince face another devastating defeat.”

Zhao finally left the tent. You were glaring daggers at the spot he was previously standing.

Iroh walked up to Zuko “Prince Zuko, have you forgotten what happened last time you dueled a master?”

“I will never forget.” Zuko responded. 

Iroh, Zuko, Zhao and You were in a Fire Nation Arena. Zhao and Zuko were kneeling, backs facing one another, preparing for battle. Zhao had 4 of his men in attendance, whilst Zuko only had you and Iroh but that was enough.

“Remember your fire bending basics, Prince Zuko.” Iroh said, “They are your greatest weapon.”

Zuko stood up, “I refuse to let him win.”

His shoulder wrap fell to the ground. You swept your eyes over his muscular figure. 

A small piece of your heart shattered at the realization that Zuko was no longer that sweet 13 year boy old you knew all those years ago.

Zhao stands and turns, his shoulder wrap falling off his shoulders, as well.

“This will be over quickly.” Zhao stated.

Atop the gate a gong sounds. Both men face each other and assume firebending stances. 

Zuko fires the first shot which passes harmlessly to Zhao's left. He fires again, this time it passes without effect to Zhao's right. Zuko fires several more, the last of which Zhao blocks, satisfaction evident on his face. Frustrated and losing control of his breath, Zuko moves towards the commander, unleashing more fire from both his hands and feet. Zhao dodges and blocks them all. Zhao then crouches forward and shoots flame at a point on the ground close in front of him. 

From the corner of your eyes you saw Iroh watching anxiously.

“Basics, Zuko! Break his root!” You heard the retired General exclaim.

Zhao fires many blasts of flames, alternating between his fists. Zuko blocks each, but is slowly forced back. On the last strike Zhao uses both hands, knocking Zuko over and sending him skidding backwards in the dirt.

You hold in your breath hoping he’s okay.

 Zhao takes a flying jump at Zuko. Zhao lands as he tries to get up, but he isn't fast enough. Zhao fires right at him. Zuko rolls out of the way just in time, and as he is getting up sweeps Zhao's feet out from under him. 

You finally exhale the breath, your chest gently rising and falling.

Zuko lands on his feet, a slight smile appears on his face. Zuko walks towards Zhao, using his feet to produce small waves of flame that rush toward his opponent. Zhao is caught off balance and wobbles slowly backward. 

Iroh clenched his fist in an expression of hope, a smile beginning to spread over his face. 

Zuko finally lays Zhao out flat on the ground with a blast of fire. Zuko rushes up to him, prepared to deal the final blow. 

“Do it!” Zhao yells.

Zuko releases a blast that shoots to the side of Zhaos’ face.

“That's it? Your father raised a coward.” He sneered at Zuko.

“Next time you get in my way, I promise I won't hold back.” Zuko said.

He turned his back on the pathetic Commander and began to walk away.

You took notice of how Zhao got up and shouted in anger. He unleashed a wip of flame at Zuko. You stepped in before the flames could hit the princes back. The fire coming from Zhaos’ foot is extinguished as your gloved hand closed over his foot.

You gave the commander a nasty look. “After this horrendous display of you being a sour loser,” You said in a sweet tone, “I have decided to tender in my resignation.” You finished dropping his foot causing him to stumble and land on his butt.

Iroh and Zuko appeared to be frozen in time for a moment before Zuko rounded on Zhao.

You turned and placed your hand on Zukos’ chest, and looked him in the eye. He looked down at you.

“Don’t.” You said in a hushed tone.

Yould see the moment's hesitation in his eyes before he slapped your hand off of his chest and continued advancing toward the Commander.

“No, Prince Zuko.” Iroh said after he witnessed your failed attempt to stop the angered Prince. “Do not taint your victory.”

Iroh turned to face Zhao, a look of disdain on his face.

“So this is how the great Commander Zhao acts in defeat. Disgraceful.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.” You chimed.

“Even in exile my nephew is more honorable than you.” 

Zuko looked at Iroh in surprise at his statement.

“Thanks again for the tea. It was delicious.” Iroh said finally to the Commander

Iroh moved to leave, You and Zuko followed closely behind. With burning anger, Zhao watches them exit the gate of the arena.

Outside, Zuko quietly asked Iroh,”Did you really mean that, Uncle?”

Iroh slyly stated, “Of course. I told you ginseng tea is my favorite.”

You couldn’t help but snort at his declaration. Sending you into a full laughing fit followed soon by Iroh and eventually Zuko, as the three of you walked towards the harbor.

~~~

And that’s the end... for now.

Master List

Taglist form

#prince zuko x reader #zuko x reader #zuko x you #fire lord zuko #atla #atla fanfic #atla zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko imagine

[heartwoodventures]

Primary Access Required: Testing, Testing

In which Heartwood heads back to (bloody) Coerthas in order to test Aislinn’s aether dampener and catch themselves a spidery bioweapon!

Aislinn arrived in Heartwood’s front hall after a quick rest and a change of clothes. Seeing Rising near the tanks, she walked up and peered into the aquarium. "How's your friend?" she asked, doing away with any preamble.

Rising was eyeing the smaller fish swimming around the bottom of the tank as Aislinn approached. "Seems like he's doin' alright! If he ain't been eaten yet I don't think he will."

Aislinn gave a brief smile as she caught sight of the little bugger. "Looks like he's one of the team now. Good on him." she nodded before turning and taking a seat to wait for things to get under way. "How about yourself? How's things?"

Cravendy slips out from her room and joins the others by the couches. Once seated, she immediately begins to fiddle with her gun, double and triple checking its parts on repeat.

Riylli lazily waves to Cravs as she enters and takes a seat near her. "Hey! Have we always had this many Miqo'te in the company? Why'd no one tell me?"

"Still need a name though." Rising rubs her chin as she was clearly running through suitable options in her head. "Crimble I suppose seems alright, an' can't complain here, yourself? Carve anythin' neat yet?"

"Crimble." Aislinn tried the name out a few times, murmuring it under her breath. "Aye, that fits. Tiny-sounding. Like a crumb or a thimble." At Rising's question though, she tilted her head. "I'm getting really good at spatulas. And kindling. Lots of kindling for the fire." she replied in a deadpan way before shrugging in wry amusement. "So it goes."

"Well then after you start your fire with the kindlin' you have somethin' to flip your food at least! I guess next thing ya should work on is a fork or a plate eh?" Rising plopped down on the other chair, cursing a moment later. "Shite, we're headin' to Coerthas right?"

N'yami moved through the estate with a carbuncle following right behind her, the Seeker chose to stand next to the railing and eye the group that had showed up. Ears flicked at the mention of Riylli's comment then offered a small wave. "I tend to hide out in my workshop, only come out when I'm either needed or dragged out."

N'ana Firesong stretches.

“I always figured ye cat-folk kept to yourselves...” Cravendy dips her head at N’yami. Case in point.

Riylli waved back to N'yami and flashed her a quick grin. "Well, it's nice to finally meet ya then. My names Riylli." She said, before her friendly attitude turned on a dime as she turned back to Cravs. "Don't call us cats." She said, her voice cold and clearly annoyed.

Haila meanwhile, merely remained silent. She could see new faces being involved in this particular case, and it didn't bring any relief more than worry. Having more people meant bigger risks of losing someone again, or at least, such was the case in her eyes as she glanced around with a small frown.

N'ana Firesong simply dusted her legs and made herself comfortable.

Evelyn Blazewing laughs and shakes her head upon hearing Riylli's comment. "Fufufu... this vessel is merely temporary. But I suppose I am still /technically/ a Miqo'te..." She brought her bandaged right hand up to cover the left side of her face. "I much prefer the company of my familiar than I do that of mortals. But, I figured I should at least come out every once in a while to converse with the commoners..." She smiled smugly to herself with her last comment.

Riylli Aliapoh raised an eyebrow at Evelyn's comment, then looked around the room to check everyone elses reactions only to find no one looking as confused as she was. "Erm... Right. Well, nice to meet you too... I think."

N'yami Synch: "N'yami, ya ever need somethin' fixed lemme know and I'll lend a hand." The carbuncle next to the Seeker jumped up onto the Seeker's shoulder to wrap around her like a scarf, the summon wanted to feel a part of the conversation. "Oh, and this is Whackara before she hits me for not introducin' her." The summon puffed out her chest with joy. "So I'm sure the rest of ya are as excited as I am to head out to Coerthas and deal with that cold hell."

Cravendy Hound grunts, but obliges to Riylli’s request. She was used to hanging out with pirates whose conversations were often thinly veiled insulting contests, and old habits die hard. “Right...Mee-quote-tay. Not cat.”

Aislinn was about to open her mouth to reply to Rising but quickly shut it as N'yami started talking. She turned her attention to the miqo'te and simply sighed. Damned bloody Coerthas.

N'ana Firesong: "What is in this Cold hell ye are dealing with?"

Haila Wetyios: "The reason we're short three people within the Company right now..." was all she'd comment, choosing to allow N'yami to take the floor on this one.

N'yami Synch: "Allagan spider creatures that some crazed scientist made to drain aether from living things...." She paused and thought it over for a moment. "I think that about sums it up." The Seeker shrugged. "I just got pulled into this recently."

Evelyn chuckles to herself. "Ah, are you all going out? I, Evelyn Blazewing, third incarnation of Lord Blazewing the Phoenix, the Eternal Ember, shall accompany you. You said we are headed to Coerthas, is that right, mortal? Fufufu... a phoenix not need worry about the cold. You should be most glad that I'm tagging along! My prowess with fire shall prove most useful to all of you there... i-if you'll have me, I mean." She looked away a bit at her last statement.

Rising Lotus grumbled more as their location was confirmed, shrugging as Riylli glanced at her. "Don't have my damn cold gear with me..gonna be a fun day." she sighed and slumped down a bit in the chair.

After casting an askance look at Evelyn and her declaration, Aislinn murmured almost to herself. "I'll have to grab my bleeding coat before we head out." If Aislinn hated anything, it was the cold.

N'ana Firesong: "Well then meh blade if for ye then. Don't know much of whatever these spiders are but aye am always willing to test meh metal."

Riylli grinned. "Finally, I've been waiting to go after those spiders ever since I joined this group! You can't just lead with that then make me build up some town for moons instead. I'm built for smashing, not building!"

Haila snapped her eyes towards one of the newcomers. "Pride won't do you any good in this, nor recklessness. These things have casters as their primary targets each and every single time we've come across them." she said, immediately sighing afterwards as she raised a hand to her forehead. "It goes without saying that magic should be the very VERY last resort in this expedition you're all about to go." she added, this time glancing at everyone.

Cravendy Hound: “Are ye all ‘earin’ what I’m ‘earin’? Or am I ‘avin’ some kind of...” Cravs shakes her head in confusion at Evelyn’s remarks. But it was all very curious to her, and she found herself wondering about the curious character. “Aye, let’s bring along that one.”

N'yami had a very confused look on her face for a moment but it vanished as soon as it appeared. "Well, I believe Aislinn had a device to help us?" She perked a brow when looking over to the Hyur. "Last time we talked we were goin' to use me as bait for pullin' the creature in while the rest of ya bring it down."

Haila Wetyios: "All of this while keeping the spider as intact as possible. 'Tis all I'd ask to finish cracking the data and communication they all share."

N'ana Firesong: "So we are studying them, not slaying them."

Riylli Aliapoh breathed a sigh of relief that someone else was hearing what Evelyn was saying, and that she had not just gone insane. But she had another concern now, turning to Haila, "Wait, we can't use magic? No one said anythin' about not using magic."

Aislinn nodded to N'yami. "The aether dampener, aye. Did you remember to grab it from your mother's desk?" she asked. "Like I said before it. ..*should* mask a person's aether signature a great deal. But, you can't get something for nothing. In return, it makes using aether far more difficult. Like training with weights on. Should being the operative word. I've tested it out here but it's never really been field tested before. And not against those bioweapons." she added.

N'yami’s ears went down for a moment, that's right she was supposed to grab it. But never fear Whackara was on the case! The carbuncle swatted Yami over the head before opening her mouth to show the object they were talking about. "Oh yea! Gave it to ya to protect." Holding her hand out the carbuncle just dropped it in Yami's hands like it was no big deal. Clearly this wasn't the first time the carbuncle was used for storage.

Cravendy‘s frown deepens at the mention of N’yami being bait. “It sounds like ye ‘ave all the pieces aligned, but that sounds risky. If it looks like yer in trouble, then ye’ll ‘ave to forgive me for trashin’ the enemy.”

"We've lost three people so far, all of them having a specialty somehow tied to conjury or white magic. We can't take extra risks again." Haila paused, turning over to Riylli. 

"When the first person went missing, a group of three assembled secretly and went to try and find them without telling anyone... Needless to say, only the one person that wasn't exactly magically inclined came back. Those creatures are an army of machina to say the least."

Evelyn Blazewing sighs. "Fine, mortal. I shall hold my magic unless it is absolutely necessary. You needn't worry regardless, for a phoenix always rises from her ashes!" She struck a small pose, leaning back in her seat for a moment before returning to her usual position. "So we're letting it live? Perhaps it is best I not use my magic after all..." She sighs and shrugs. "I will simply find another way to assist you all, then. I shall exercise extreme caution so you do not worry, viera. Does that help ease your nerves?"

Riylli Aliapoh peaked up from over the back of her couch to listen to Aislinn explain. "Well... I should be able to work with using less aether, but you won't be getting me at my best! I was hoping to show off proper this time too, since no one could see anything during that dodo fight..."

Aislinn nodded in thanks to the carbuncle for remembering. She looked back to N'yami. "Once you're ready, just cuff it to your wrist, the stone and circuitry should do the rest." she once more eyed Evelyn with a wary gaze.

Haila Wetyios: "As long as you keep your own distance, I won't complain." she merely stated with a serious tone, though from her voice, it was clear that she had her own reservations or even personal feelings about this entire case.

Rising Lotus raised her hand "Going with what Cravs said, in case things start to go sour, we ought to have a signal or somethin' to switch from catchin' to smashin' and gettin' outa there."

Aislinn turned her attention to Riylli. "Unfortunately, I only had time to create one prototype." she jerked her chin to the one in N'yami's hands. "The rest of us need to be careful."

Riylli groaned. "Great... Guess I'll just... Play defense, or somethin'..." She muttered, totally pouting over not getting to fight the spiders properly

"Should I put it on now or wait till we get there?" N'yami eyed Riylli for a moment, an actual caster would be better playing bait but the Seeker couldn't bring herself to letting the others getting injured if things went bad.

Aislinn does her best to hold her tongue in the face of such idealistic exuberance. The gravity of the loss of Heartwood members in the face of these bioweapons hadn't truly sunken in for the new recruits. Sometimes experience was the best teacher. She looked to N'yami and took a refocusing breath. "Depends on if you think you're going to need to call upon some aether between now and then."

“Scream once if yer in trouble, twice if yer just foolin’ with us.” Cravs dryly advises N’yami.

"What happens if I do it three times?" N’yami grinned, joking of course and an attempt to lighten the mood. "No worries, if things start goin' bad I'll let ya know guys know."

Evelyn: "Ah, is that what our signal shall be? Primitive and simple, yet effective. The success of our mission is all but assured regardless if we take the necessary precautions."

N'yami nodded. "So." N'yami clipped the item onto her wrist. "Who wants to hold the Carbuncle? If things start goin' bad she'll let ya know." The summon’s ears perked up and pitch black orbs looked around the room to determine who her Coerthas buddy will be.

Evelyn raises her hand enthusiastically. "I shall care for thy familiar, mortal. Choose me, and you shall not regret it."

Cravendy Hound tries to lean into N’yami’s confidence, and tries to tell herself this mission will be smooth sailing. But an ever familiar anxiety sets her heart pumping.  Cravs huffs, and moodily looks to the corner of the table.

"Whackara is connected to me, if I'm in trouble her fur will bristle so just keep an eye on that." The carbuncle jumped down from N'yami's shoulder and went to sit on the arm of the chair where Evelyn was, a paw reached out to rest on the red heads shoulder as if to say 'Buddy'.

Evelyn grinned quietly to herself and chuckled. "The pact is complete, then. I shall guard this one with my life. You needn't worry, I will simply resurrect should anything happen to me. Your safety is all but assured, friend." She reaches a hand out to softly pet the carbuncle.

Rising Lotus "We have somethin' to catch it or keep it too right? Or should we jus' break it's legs an' bring it in?" she crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair. "Granted I don't know anythin' near enough 'bout them as Haila, but I do remember ya sayin' it can call other ones too right? Do we have some way to stop that?"

Haila turned over to Rising, "No ways to disrupt it yet I'm afraid, 'tis one strong signal, but the best would be to drag the straggler you mean to capture as far away as possible before it calls reinforcements."

N'yami hummed in thought for a moment. "Could use wires? A barrier would just be absorbed by the damn thing, but we would need a couple people who would want to volunteer to just jump the damn thing and tie it up."

Aislinn let her gaze drift over to Rising and Cravendy

Evelyn sighed and looked around. "Unfortunately, this vessel's arms are quite frail, otherwise I would love to volunteer... are any mortals willing to take the lead?"

“Seems easier to just break its legs. We won’t be needin’ those to do whatever we need the spider for, right?” Cravendy looks around, suddenly wary of another’s gaze on her. “Jump it. Beat it up. Been there, done that...”

Rising Lotus grimaces "Ugh, alright. I don't wanna see a wave of them things again if I can help it." she glanced at N'yami as she offered her suggestion. "..that sounds like it'd work, sure Cravs is a right fine knot tie-er too. " she looked toward Cravs.

Riylli raised her hand. "I could probably incapacitate it with my magic pretty easy, depending on how strong the thing is. Would give me something to do too..." She said with an overexaggerated sigh

Haila Wetyios: "As long as it gets the job done, I have no quarry with it. Breaking the legs should do the job, but if all else fails, I'll take a broken spider."

"Ah, are you not joining us, mortal? A shame, your apparent experience with these spiders would be quite the help." Evelyn said, turning her gaze to Haila.

Haila Wetyios shook her head. "As much as I wish I could, I have my reasons for not going... 'Tis been by mere coincidence that the spiders didn't pick up on me the other times. But I can't risk a third one. At least not if I want a few plans of my own to work."

N'yami Synch: "So who's ready to go catch us a spider!? That's a dumb question no one really is but hells we need the bloody thing so let's go punch it in the legs."

N'ana Firesong gave a small sigh. "Why spiders" she mumbled.

Cravendy glances back at Rising. “Can’t say I’ve ever kidnapped a spider, but there’s a first for everythin’. But the idea would be the same. Lure it away to some lonely corner, away from pryin’ eyes, and tie it up afore it knows what got ‘im. Or beat it till it’s broken.”

Riylli gave a concerned look to the pirate Roe, unsure if she was joking or not

Rising Lotus: "Well lets play it by ear then. If we have a chance to bind it lets do that, if not we'll smash it's legs off, and as a last case option we'll kill it all together."

Evelyn stands up and strikes a pose with her staff. "Let our operation commence. The Goddess of Victory is on our side, so long as we err on the side of caution. Now, let us show these spiders true despair..." She held her bandaged right arm up to her left eye again, folding her left one across her body. She let out an enthusiastic "Fwahahaha!" and shook her head afterward.

Aislinn nodded and rose to her feet. "Seems like we have a plan in place." Roughly, but it was still a plan. "I'll go grab my bloody coat." she shook her head and retreated briefly back to her quarters.

After the group made the walk through Coerthas back to the area where they knew the spiders would appear, with some grumbling cause of the cold of course, N'yami lead them through the snowy terrain. Stopping in her tracks the Seeker looked around with perked ears. "Where exactly were you all ambushed before? Perhaps that will be the best spot to look for one."

Riylli kicked at the ground below, trying to keep her shivering to a minimum. "...Hate this stupid place... Grounds all frozen... Terrible to work with..." She muttered to herself as the rest of the group did their thing

N'ana: "Aye hope we finish up quickly. As much as aye enjoy mountain trips in Othard this cold is a different story."

Aislinn looked to Rising and Cravendy to answer that question. She hadn't yet ventured out to meet these spiders head on. For obvious reasons. Heartwood still needed at least a semblance of a medical staff until they could get G'lewra and Vanriri back.

Rising Lotus huffed as they exited the cave, rubbing her hands together as she was a tad underdressed. "I think it was a bit more down there, near the bridge right?" she glanced at Cravs, keeping her body moving to build up some heat. It then dawned on her the Cravs was kind of not there at the time, but maybe she knew somehow?

Evelyn shivered quietly, holding Whackara in her arms. "F-Fufufu... this cold is n-nothing... you m-mortals always complain about the silliest things..." she posed again in her usual fashion.

Cravendy feels her gut sink as she remembers a time when...it was before she woke up, and yet. She groans, but answers to the best of her ability. “Yeah, I remember it was by that hill, and we crossed a bridge at some point. Over there?” Cravs points down south.

N'yami Synch: "Works for me." She offered a shrug and just started walking down the path, they'd eventually run into the blasted thing right? That's how it usually worked from what she heard. "Time to give this damsel-in-distress thing a try I suppose."

"I-If these things go after magic users, how 'bout we just start channelling and wait for it to show up?" Riylli offered, getting sick of standing in one place freezing her tail off

Cravendy lightly elbows Evelyn as she passes her. “Phoenix-lass, right? Ye think ye can ‘eat up the poor sods who’re freezin’ their arses off?”

Rising Lotus looks at the river over the hill. "This is lookin' familiar, bridge ain't too far from here." she pointed across it. "They all came from the other side of it, and we fell back to the bridge." she pointed to the left down the path.

Aislinn heard Cravendy and looked over her shoulder. "I'm good. No need to light me up or anything."

Evelyn Blazewing 's eyes open wide. "Sh-Share my warmth? With... e-everyone? F-Fwahaha, I certainly would if it were possible. Touching a mere mortal with my body temperature s-so high would incinerate them to mere ashes!" she quietly mumbled to herself. "B-Besides, I'm kinda using it right now..."

Cravendy nods to Rising’s statement. “Some of ‘em were underneath the snow too, so watch where ye step.”

Aislinn took a few steps back at that. "Great." she muttered as she peered down at the frozen ground around them.

N'ana Firesong: "Ye seem ye can mix a drink right now, Phoenix."

Evelyn: "I would be happy to mix you a drink were now a good time, mortal. Ask when we return home and I shall happily oblige."

N'yami looked around for a moment as they paused. "We'll stick around somewhere safe so the rest of ya have a place to hide while I drag the damn thing out." The Seeker pointed over at the boulder sticking out of the ground. "Go hide over there while I call it out. Rising, and Cravs, get ready to launch yerself at it once it comes out."

Rising Lotus: "Aye, pulled...uh.. someone off one before it got her, then it called it's friends." she tapped her boots on the ground to shake some snow out of her sandals.

Cravendy: “Aye. Come on Rising, we got a boulder to snoop behind.” She starts to walk over.

Heartwood runs into another RP FC also RPing (Riylli Aliapoh) (feels like two rival gangs are passing) (Aislinn North) ((Throwdown)) (Haila Wetyios) Oh snap)) (Rising Lotus) We have to intimidate them, everyone make yourselfs big)) (Cravendy Hound) OH?? )) (N'yami Synch) PUFF OUT)) (N'yami Synch) I think we win)) (Cravendy Hound) omg haha )) (Riylli Aliapoh) (as big as you can get) (N'yami Synch) Lol one of them is a friend of my so I whispered yelled at him to get out of my swamp xD))

Rising Lotus nodded, pumping herself up before tailing behind Cravs, drawing her spear on the way.

"I can help too y'know..." Riylli muttered as she stomped off to hide behind the boulder

Aislinn murmured to N'yami as she gestured to the device on the miqo'te's wrist. "If your plan is to take that off to lure a spider, I'd suggest snapping it right back on the moment you get one on your trail. As it is we're going to have a hell of a time shutting it up before it calls any others." she nodded. "Watch yourself, aye?"

Cravendy ducks behind the boulder and peeks out, as sneakily as she can manage. But she’s half-distracted by Rising, who to her...does not look dressed for success, in this weather. “Nophica’s teats, ye askin’ to catch a cold again?!” She harshly whispers.

N'yami Synch: "Cravs and Rising, pull Riylli with ya when the thing comes out, the faster we bring the thing down the better." The Seeker looked over to Aislinn and offered a short nod. "I can defend myself pretty well, if you know someone else needs it more I'll be fine without it."

Riylli's ears perked up, her pouting interrupted. "Wait, me? I mean, yeah! The grounds a bit frozen, but I'm sure it'll be fine" She finished with a confident nod, back to her usual self

Rising Lotus was peeking around the other side of the rock, spearing humming away as they waited. "I'll be fine, been through here lots of times dressed like this. Build's character." she shivered a bit as she said the last part. " 'sides fightin' will keep me plenty warm."

Aislinn shook her head and snorted. "I'm not playing the lottery like that. You're going after the spider, you take it. I'm just saying." she turned and went to stand with the others.

Riylli kicks a bit off snow onto Rising's exposed toes. "Builds hypothermia is what it does. How are you gonna fight when you're frozen to the ground?"

Cravendy: “Might be awhile ‘fore we’re fightin’.” Cravs looks back at N’yami and watches the miqo’te like a hawk. Her breath coming out in chilly plumes, she mumbles something under her breath. “Feh, character...Personally, I’m done buildin’ anymore of that.”

N'ana Firesong keeps a watchful eye over her surroundings.

N'yami unhooked the device from her arm for a moment, and that's when the rest of the group would feel a surge of aether crash over them. The group would feel a wide range of emotions hit them, the strongest one they felt would send a warmth through their cold bodies. Raising her hand in the air the Seeker summoned a ball of aether and shot it off in the air, one after the other like a show of fireworks and each one burst in the sky. Red aether mixed into the white winds that were carried off to call upon the creature they were looking for and with how much the Seeker was giving off did the group hear an echoing screech off in the distance. Those who had met the creatures would know the sound all too well, it was coming.

N'ana Firesong knelt over, feeling the warmth take over her body and shivered. "Thralls balls!"

Rising Lotus shot Riylli a glare, flinging the snow off her foot, about to retaliate before N'yami started and she focused up, tightening her grip on her spear. She grit her teeth as they had garnered hopefully only one's attention.

Evelyn recoils a bit, reeling from the emotional surge she just felt. She then turns her attention to the sky, and back to N'yami. "An excellent show, mortal, but will it do the tri-" She's cut off by the screeching, which causes her to smirk. "Fufufu... it seems your ploy worked. Everyone, ready yourselves. Our enemy will be upon us soon." She mumbled to herself again. "I-I think... that's our enemy..."

Aislinn stumbled back as the aetheric emotions hit her, the warmth flowing into her body triggering a sense of alarm. No. Not now. But it soon passes as she realized it was only N'yami and not herself. She breathed and tried to shake off the feeling. "That'll get them if nothing else." she said low, her voice wavering slightly.

Riylli glances over to Evelyn. "Hey, crazy lady, how hot can that fire of yours get? Y'think you can thaw the earth a bit for me when we jump out?"

Cravendy grunts as she weathers the wave of aether, sets her jaw as foreign emotions flow through. When it passes, she finally takes a gasp of air. Without knowing it, Cravs had been holding her breath. But she could not breathe easy, not yet. They were coming.

Evelyn glares at Riylli. "I am not crazy, mortal. My flames are the hottest in the realm. I would be more than happy to assist you, however." She sighed.  "So, my talents shall simply be used to thaw the earth? Fine, fine... I came here to offer my assistance, after all."

The sound of heavy footsteps could be heard as the beast came crashing through the snowy plains, this one was the perfect size to carry someone off and with how much aether it detected it seemed determined to catch whatever was creating it. At the last possible second N'yami slapped the device onto her wrist again to dampen her aether, and that's when the Crawler stopped in front of her. The familiar whirring noise was heard as it scanned the Seeker for the aether source.

Aislinn North From her hiding place behind the boulder, Aislinn tensely watched, her breath trapped in her lungs. She sincerely hoped her device wouldn't fail now, of all times.

Cravendy‘s eyes widen at the sight of the machine, but any hesitation is quickly pushed down. Cravs shuffles over the boulder and charges at her target, hoping to knock it off balance with a low blow to one of its many legs.

Rising Lotus "Great, a big one..." she hopped out from her hiding place and charged forward, taking a great big swipe at it's front left leg as she got in range.

Riylli Aliapoh hopped up onto the rock, shouting out to Evelyn. "Time to shine, crazy phoenix lady! Help me get the earth under it's legs!" She commanded, and began to swirl aether around her as she commanded the earth to reach out and swallow up the spiders legs, though as she suspected the ice made it difficult to manage. However, with Evelyn's help…

N'ana Firesong: "Take out it's eye!"

Evelyn sighs and smiles, bringing her rod close to her. "Fufufu... behold mortals, the purest of flames, the hottest of cinders! This is a gift from Lord Blazewing himself! To ash do we fall, and from ash do we rise... now!" *she launches a small fireball, which then explodes into a larger flame that consumes the ground around the spider. "Hell's Maw!"

Aislinn reached into her coat, white-knuckles wrapping around the grip of her pistol as the others charged. She wouldn't use her aether but she would shoot if things began to take a dire turn. For now, she watched and waited, fighting the frustration that rose in her.

Despite the several attacks aimed at the spider, it seemed as only a selected few even had an effect on it. Riylli's rocks for once, managed to at least ground it on the spot. It's metal legs though, were stronger than the ones that they'd faced before, that much was clear from the fact that it's hindleg barely took any damage from Rising's attack. The edges of it's fleshy limbs suffering very slight charring as it detected the aether sources around it. The fire spell becoming it's first target as it had been the biggest display of aether out of all of them, with the earth rocks being a close second.

Aislinn North can see where this is going and cursed harshly under her breath. The weapon was already assessing and zeroing in on those who had created a display of aether. "Get ready to scatter." she warned.

Finishing it's scans of it's primary targets as well as potential threats, the mechanical spider made several whirring sounds, had it been a smaller one, it would have surely attempted to call for backups already. This one though, was big enough to attempt it's own attacks. Lifting the few legs that weren't trapped in stone, it attempted to free it's other legs as it hurled rocks around at the closest people within it's range whilst smaller spiders dropped off the big one, rushing at the people in the back.

N'yami watched as the crowd charged at the Crawler and watched the chaos start to form, the Seeker waited for the right time to interfere and if needed she would join the battle. Her ruby gaze kept flicking down to the device on her wrist, debating to take it off to act as bait again, that's why she was here right?

Riylli pumped more aether into her spell, refusing to allow the spider freedom so long as she could help it. "Gonna need you guys to keep those things off me! Can't exactly multitask right now!" She called to whoever might be able to help

Ready for it, Aislinn dashed out from behind the boulder as the smaller spiders charged toward them. She fired off a few shots as she went, hoping to pick a couple off before they swarmed the others.

Rising Lotus managed to dodge the stones that were throw at her, grunting and gripping her spear tightly. With a mighty shout she jabbed the tip of her spear right between where the leg meets the body, twisting and pushing open a gap towars the now exposed and vulnerable shoulder mechanics! If someone could aim several shots in there it would sure do a lot of damage!

Cravendy Hound: “Umf! Shit, thing’s built like a brick ‘ouse!” Why did she think that tackling a thing made of solid metal was a good idea to begin with? Now her shoulder felt all kinds of wrong. She rolls to dodge the flurry of rocks and, out of the corner of her eye, she sees the smaller spiders rush at the party’s backline. A bitter cocktail of anger and anxiety sets her heart alight. Not on her watch!

Cravendy grins when Rising serves her an opening on a silver platter. “Thank ye, flower. Now!” She whips her gun out and sends a flurry of shots aimed directly at the exposed circuitry.

N'ana stabbed at the smaller spiders around her. slashing and kicking the ones too close to her.

Evelyn targets the small spiders approaching her, readying another area fire spell. Without giving a small speech this time, she simply readies and casts another area fire spell, hoping to get rid of the smaller spiders coming after her. After launching her attack, she mutters "Calamity Blaze." and strikes a pose.

Relatively assured that she hadn't made herself a target for the smaller spiders, Aislinn continued to fire off shots to drop the bastards before they could reach the ones casting aether about with abandon, pausing only for the scant seconds it took her to reload. Her precision as a sharpshooter on display, she rarely seemed to miss her marks.

Riylli grit her teeth, trying to hold on as the spider did everything it could to free itself from it's bindings. "I ain't gonna be able to hold much longer! Do whatever it is you gotta do, and do it fast!" She called out to the front lines, swearing under her breath. "'Take it alive' huh? Easy to say when you aren't the one holding the damned thing..." She mutters angrily, before pumping another dose of aether into the earthen shackles

Rising Lotus grinned as Cravs fired several shots into the hole she made, twisting her body around to try and spear the other front leg, aiming for the first joint from it's body and thrusting hard, hopefully she'd continued to have good results aiming for those points compared to hacking and slashing

Cravendy feels that telltale burn of combat. Of blood boiling, of time slowing. Given her proximity to the large machine, Cravs decides to try to grab hold of another leg and directly press the end of her gun at its joint. Squeeze, and fire.

The onslaught of attacks took it's toll, for a moment it seemed that the large spider had underestimated it's targets. Such was the issue of programming it's priorities. The leg that Rising and Cravs had worked together to damage caused several circuits to go haywire. The spider had to pause for a moment as the rest of it's legs too, started taking damage from the shots, the spears and the rocks keeping it grounded all causing damage beyond acceptable parameters, the creature attempted to step back to no avail, it's smaller spiders being taken one after the other with the group work from everyone attacking it. Upon finishing it's damage calculations, it buckled down, almost compacting part of it's body for a moment as it emitted a deafening sound alongside static that was nearly palpable in the air. It wouldn't damage it's opponents as much as it would deafen them briefly, but it was for sure calling for nearby backups.

Riylli just kept channeling really. Nothing to see here. She wasn't getting tired or anything. It's fine. All fine.

Cravendy recoils at the explosive sound blaring right next to her ears. She searches for the source of the sound but can’t quite focus with this ringing in her head, so instead she opts to continue her assault. Cravs aims her gun at the spider’s chassis and fires several times. If it’s broken, the racket’ll stop, right?

N'ana shook her head feeling a bit dizzy and off balance from the noise. She put the sword inside its holdster and then drew it with a blinding light of power on one of the spiders back legs.

Aislinn staggered to the side and clapped a free hand over one ear as the blaring beacon went off. Damn it all. That thing simply needed to -die-. Gritting her teeth against the painful noise, she did her best to keep watch on the casters, and pick off any of the smaller spiders that still remained. "Someone shut it up, fast!" her words barely heard over the blaring siren.

Rising Lotus braced herself as the screech blared, bracing herself while she gazed over the ugly thing. Things usually make sound from their mouths, so she thrusted right under it's glowing eye, hoping that was where it would be? If it had one?

N'yami Synch placed her hands over her ears as the creature called out for help. Why did it need to be so loud? "Take it down now! We need to get out of here fast before the backup arrives!"

Riylli Aliapoh huffed, feeling neglected out there in the backlines, watching everyone else do cool stuff. She was not one to enjoy taking the support role, and suddenly a very stupid idea dawned on her. She grinned, "Alright, time to end this!" She called out, suddenly thrusting her arms out to the sides and pumping in every last bit of her aether, the earthen shackles that had been binding the creatures legs suddenly flying out in opposite directions, ripping the spiders legs out with them

Evelyn Blazewing covered her ears and crouched down in recoil from the harsh noise the spider emitted. "I-It's worse than the wails of the damned... shut up!" She stood up, braced herself, and fired a ball of flame at the mechanical arachnid, yelling out "Flames of Ifrit!" as she did.

Cravendy Hound brings her arms up in time to guard herself against a shower of earth and ice. “By the godsdamned Navigator! Warn me next time ye use yer magic!” But, seeing as the spider was now rendered legless by Riylli’s efforts, it seemed a good opportunity to grab and go. Cravs stumbles to the other end of the machine and tries to lift it. They had to get this thing, and themselves, out of here fast.

While incredibly risky and stupid, Riylli's idea worked, the sudden pull from the rocks alongside it's already damaged legs nearly ripped all of them off on the spot. Only one leg remaining, which was the one N'ana kept attacking as the blasted thing started to squirm as much as it could. Several smaller spiders dropped off it's insides, clearly confused as the signal it was sending out to them was not going off well thanks to the damage caused by Rising and Crav's shots.

N'yami bolted towards the giant spider and went to lift it with Cravs. "Let's go go go." The carbuncle grew in size to be big enough to ride and trotted up to Riylli incase she needed to be carried home. "Those who can lift get over here."

The large spider was rendered defenseless, and most of all, it was half intact.

Riylli fell to her knees, aether spent and body exhausted. She grit her teeth and picked herself back up, using her staff to keep her balance as she didn't want people seeing how wiped out she was. "What else could 'time to end this' mean!?" Riylli shot back to Cravs, before carefully trying to crawl her way off the boulder she was dramatically perched on. Maybe exhausting herself right before it was time to run... was not the best plan

Rising pulled her spear back just in time to watch Riylli pull it's legs off like a child would do to a bug, and probably Riylli to a bug too honestly. Quickly returning her spear to her back, she made her way to the front, squatting down and preparing to lift it with the others.

As the limbs come off the spider in a mighty pull of earth, Aislinn wasted no time rushing towards the downed bioweapon, taking out the small spiders that wandered around in confusion. "Alright. N'yami's right. Let's take it and run." she holstered her weapon and made ready to lift along with the others.

Evelyn applauded Riylli's display, a proud smile on her face. "Excellent, truly excellent work, mortal. Your prowess with the earth is quite remarkable..."

Cravendy grumbles something under her breath about being more specific, that “time to end this” should clearly state -how- as well. But it was all bullshit and Cravs knew it - couldn’t expect people to say all that in the heat of the battle. Didn’t stop her from complaining the whole way back though.

Riylli gave a tired grin, always ready to accept some praise. "Best geomancer in eorzea, you can bet on it! You were a big help with that fire though. Couldn't have done it without ya." She said with a nod, before noticing the large carbuncle seemingly waiting for her to pass out. "Oh, hey... you. You offering a ride?" She asked, giving a shrug as she hopped on and did her best not to look so relieved.

As Heartwood managed to take the giant Crawler back, hopefully Haila was fine with the size of it, the group successfully completed their mission and even managed to escape the backup before they showed up but now the real question. How are they going to get it through the door?

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #ffxiv crystal rp #Heartwood Ventures #Heartwood plots #Primary Access Required #Cravendy Hound #n'yami synch #N'ana Firesong #riylli aliapoh #rising lotus #aislinn north #haila wetyios #Evelyn Blazewing

[annhellsing]

Demon King

notes: i wanted to dom lucifer, this got a little out of hand (like five thousand words out of hand) but i’m genuinely quite proud. enjoy!!! rating: EXTREMELY EXPLICIT. sub lucifer ahead :0) pairing: lucifer / female reader. implied lucifer/diavolo and diavolo/reader word count: 5,094

It’s hard to ask for the storm when he insists on calm. Lucifer is a straight-backed believer in order and enforcing it. So when your fingers curl around your cup of coffee --and he wishes that the mug was his throat-- it leaves him quite shaken.

And you may know. It’s the hardest part for him.

How can he allow himself to want like that? Especially when the little things entice him. The breakfast table is in a state of painful tension, and the only one who appears to be in a good mood is Diavolo.

“Have you been sleeping well?” he asks you. And for a brief second, you turn your head not to who will be king of hell, but to Lucifer. 

You blink, watching as he stews in early-morning self-dissatisfaction. Then, the moment passes and you look away. You smile, it’s only slightly forced and reply, “You always know when I’m tired.”

Lucifer grips his teacup a little tighter. He tries not to think about what you might have been doing while you were up late. You had a nightmare, perhaps, or decided to get in a little extra studying. But his mind drifts to places dark and twisted.

He’s worried about you developing the habit of keeping late hours, of course, but Lucifer can’t help but wonder if you’d filled the time some other way. He pictures you in bed, spread out with the clock on your nightstand pointing to three am. A shape huddles between your legs, their work making you writhe and twist.

You take a handful of dark hair, with shocks of dull silver near the front and pull. You pull until the moan that breaks the silence is loud and undoubtedly his. Lucifer shifts in his seat, blinking and taking a slow sip of his tea.

“I can see it in your eyes,” Diavolo explains, “rather, under them. You have dark circles, it’s a bit worrying.”

“Oh,” your smile falters a little bit, your hand coming to rest on your cheek. “I must’ve missed them when I looked at myself in the mirror.”

“You should go to bed earlier tonight,” he says with that soft insistence that always leads you to the right decisions. “I’d hate for you to work yourself to death.”

“I wasn’t studying, I finished that up a bit earlier in the evening,” you say. The other six table-members seem too wrapped up in their own bickering to notice you mention that.

But two pay attention, the demon at the table and the one sipping tea across from you. Lucifer feels the almighty urge to ask what you were doing, perhaps under the pretense of rule-breaking. The question stays in his throat, however. He looks to Diavolo, just briefly, and watches the man nod.

“Don’t tell me you were slacking off,” Lucifer huffs. He sounds more annoyed than he intends to, but his thoughts have been quite annoying.

“Leave her be,” Diavolo interjects, looking stern in a way that is nothing short of mortifying. And exciting. “I’m sure she just couldn’t fall asleep. It happens to everyone.”

“That’s right,” you say, looking to Lucifer again. Your eyes are narrowed, you fix him with a harsher stare than before. He feels pinned down.

He’s not between your legs on the bed any more, he’s on his back. You have his wrists held tight above his head, you force them up and back against the bars of your headboard. With a scarf that was not in your fist before, you tie him up tight.

“I get so in my own head sometimes, I think too much and I can’t sleep..” you say, “A little bit like you, Lucifer. Don’t you think?”

He swallows, keeping his expression neutral. But it’s difficult, for in the back of your mind you’ve picked up another scarf from the nightstand. You tie it around his head, over his eyes. He blinks in the face of your teasing expression.

“I promise I won’t stay up too late twice in a row,” you say. The spell is broken, but the little curve of your smirk remains. The heady silence that swims around Lucifer’s head blocks out the way his brother’s argue. You’re smiling only for him. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“We will anyway,” Diavolo says. But the pitch of his voice is lower enough so that only three can hear.

Breakfast ends shortly after, with the sound of feet shuffling towards the hallway ending conversations. Lucifer sits in the dining room longer even than Beelzebub. Almost as long as you.

You look at him again just before you leave. The two of you are mostly alone, the door closes on Asmodeus with Mammon close behind.

“It’s you who’s starting to worry me,” you say, cocking your head to the side. That awful smirk from before returns with a force that infuriates him. “You’ve been stealing glances since I woke up. Is it the dark circles or something else?”

“You happen to look ill,” Lucifer lies. You look beautiful, sitting across from him. Tired and teasing, but so very beautiful.

“I was with Diavolo last night,” you show teeth when you smile. “I made him very happy, did he tell you about it?”

You fill your mug halfway with the last of the coffee in the pot. You stir in two sugar cubes. It becomes clear after a moment that he isn’t going to answer you, which makes you shrug.

“The way your eyes glaze over every now and again, I’ll say he did,” you mumble. You watch the door close on Mammon and decide to stand yourself. “But I wonder, are you imagining what I did with him or what I would do with you?”

Maybe a little of both, you think with a devilish glint in your eye. As you pass by his chair and straight posture, you drag your hand over Lucifer’s shoulder. You curl your fingers, very briefly, around his neck and lean in.

“Your lord says he wants you to come and see me tonight,” you whisper. “He’ll be there, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint.”

You hardly stay long enough to feel his skin go hot. At the very same time, a shiver shakes his shoulders. Lucifer doesn’t look as you take your leave, he only sets his teacup down. His hands were trembling.

His intrusive thoughts bully him for the rest of the day. For the most part, he’s annoyed to find himself thinking about every sordid detail that Diavolo shared that morning--- but with him in place of the one-day-king. 

Standing up from the breakfast table is an exercise in misery. He can still feel the weight of your hand at his throat, the front of his trousers are so tight as to be uncomfortable. He does his best to go about his day with that heavy, heady warmth between his legs-- it’s more difficult than he anticipates.

The sensation is almost unfamiliar, which doesn’t sit right with him. It isn’t as if he’s inexperienced, Diavolo keeps him very busy, but the sway you hold over him is painfully new. And it dominates his waking thoughts.

He busies himself at his desk, but has to pause when the daydreams take a turn for the fantastic. As far as he’s been told, you’ve never bent anyone over their desk and had your way with them like that. But when he pictures it, it’s vivid enough to distract from any meaningful task.

Lucifer lives on auto-pilot. His mind is hostile territory and you’ve made yourself the enemy. He’s waited too long, denied himself too much for you to be a gentle lover. You hold him down, you bring the pain. All he can do is moan.

That kind of empty-headedness is enough to inspire jealousy every time there’s a knock on the door. He wishes very badly, though he would never admit it, that you were on the other side. That you knew what he was thinking and came to rescue him from his work day. 

But it’s Levithan. Then Asmodeus. Then everyone in hell, it seems, except for you. That night can’t come fast enough.

--

You saw the look of dread at being found out on Lucifer’s face. It hurts to see him insist on lies, concocted by his greatest sin. You know as well as he does that he has a restless mind, but you don’t expect that he’ll be in your bed tonight.

Surprise, surprise.

“You kept us waiting, didn’t you?” Diavolo beams from his place on the sofa, dressed down in an unbuttoned shirt with an open fly. Lucifer lifts his head very sharply, his cheeks turning a brick-red.

“I’m never late,” you smirk, “the two of you are just early. And I’m worth waiting for.”

Diavolo sits up a little straighter, unabashed delight in his eyes. You drop your shoulder bag and approach with a sway of your hips. 

Lucifer makes himself scarce, sitting back in the corner of the sofa when you take his lover’s face in your hands. You kiss the king in hell, dragging him towards you and biting gently on his lower lip.

When you pull away, you turn your eyes to the demon trying to look smaller.

“Are you all right?” you ask. And you’re wearing that expression he’s so frightened of. Loving and concerned.

“He’s a bit shy,” Diavolo interjects. You nod, but don’t look away.

“Would you like a kiss, Lucifer?” you try, tilting your head and motioning for him to come closer. You’re different from how you looked at breakfast. Softer, but still firm. It makes his cheeks flush.

“Y--” he cuts himself off. You’re moving across the couch, cornering him against the armrest. He inhales sharply when you reach for his chin.

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?” you continue. His eyes go wide. He nods.

Your mouth is as soft as your voice. How many times has he wondered what it would be like for you to press up against him? He’s imagined you breathing the way you are now, smiling against his lips. Your unspoken promise is kept, you’re very gentle with him.

When you pull away, the colour of your lipstick clings to his mouth like a sigh. His shoulders loosen, he feels lighter than before. Still terrified, his stomach is host to a thousand butterflies, but he’s somehow unburdened.

“You’ve been so shy around me, lately,” you say, your hand moving slowly down his jaw. “That is, when you haven’t been extremely rude. Wouldn’t you like to apologize?”

“Y-yes,” he stutters, “you have my apologies. It was immature of me to be so inhospitable.”

“Hm, so polite,” you mumble. To Lucifer’s immortal shame, he notices you say that more to Diavolo than him. “Do you want me to forgive you, dearest?”

“More than anything,” he sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“For?” you ask. And the edge in your voice that makes his stomach flutter returns. He swallows hard.

“I am very sorry for saying that you were slacking off,” he replies. You nod.

“Very sincere, good job,” you smile, “I forgive you. Come here.”

He’s only distantly aware of what you say, because you take hold of his throat the way you did at breakfast. You tug him forward and kiss him a second time, pressing your tongue to his lower lip. Lucifer doesn’t hesitate, he opens his mouth and grants you entry.

“You’re being much nicer than this morning,” you comment, “ did Diavolo give you a lesson in manners?”

He looks over your shoulder, half-glaring at the demon sitting behind you. He shrugs and gives a wide smile. Lucifer hesitates, then nods.

“But you still look so scared of me,” you say, “that won’t do. Look at me.”

It takes a second for him to pry his eyes away from where the hem of your skirt ends and your shirt begins. Making eye contact at a time like this, with your lipstick on his mouth is unspeakably difficult.

You guide him with the hand still at his throat, pulling him away from the couch corner. Lucifer’s eyes, dark and still so full of pride find yours.

“Do you want this?” you ask. He wonders if you ask Diavolo this many questions. And then he imagines that yes, at some point, you must have. It’s odd business, being cared for. But you seem sincere in not wanting to hurt him.

“I do,” he says after a long sigh. “It’s a challenge for me to admit to it.”

“I know,” you say, “but you’re doing so well. You’re making me very proud.”

His eyes widen a fraction, taken aback by that. He’s barely done anything, he thinks. You’re far too free with your praise. But any desire to deny what you say dies quickly. 

Your thumb rubs gentle circles over the side of his neck. Instinctively, Lucifer leans towards the source and presses himself against your palm. When you’re sure he’s comfortable, you give his throat a small squeeze.

And though he tenses up, he doesn’t tell you to stop. He leans in, hoping you’ll apply more pressure without him needing to ask. One embarrassingly long moment later confirms that you won’t be doing any such thing. He grits his teeth.

“More,” he sighs. “I want more.”

“You can have more,” you start, “if you say please.”

“You’re kidding,” he huffs. His complaint is so quiet as to almost be inaudible. But the moment he considers being difficult, he catches Diavolo’s glare out of the corner of his eye. “Please.”

Immediately, you tighten your grip. Lucifer gives a very startled squeak, but his eyes fall closed in surprised pleasure. He nods like he’s been granted his greatest wish.

“So, you like a little pain,” you say.

“I did mention that,” Diavolo pipes up. You look at him over your shoulder, sharing a smirk.

“I wanted to see for myself. It’ll be fun having someone I can punish,” you lean in and put your mouth to Lucifer’s ear. “Especially considering you’re so fond of discipline.”

He shivers with his whole body, uncaring if you notice. Trying to hide something like that when he’s already so nervous is almost impossible. But the sight seems only to make your smile more sinister.

“I will never hurt you without your permission,” you say, “which is why safewords are important. Do you know what that means?”

“That I need to think of one,” Lucifer replies. You bite down on his earlobe, making him suck in a breath. “Human. If I say human, you stop.”

“Of course, dearest,” you say, “do you want to use it now?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Not at all.”

“Good,” you beam. 

You hear movement behind you, Diavolo’s shadow looms at your back but you barely flinch when he hugs you. His arms are strong, they curl around your chest and pull you back against his.

“I thought you said you’d behave,” you say, exhaling softly when he kisses your shoulder. “I know I’m neglecting you, I’m sorry.”

Lucifer watches with almost rapt attention. His mouth hangs open very slightly, a mixture of surprise and lust hiding in the centre of his eye. He was told by the man himself that you hold some kind of lovely power over him, but watching it is very different from stories.

You nudge your nose against his cheek, giving him a soft kiss. The look in your eyes makes Lucifer strain with jealousy. He wants it in a way he’s never wanted anything before, without thinking he reaches up and puts his hand over yours.

He puts pressure on your fingers, clearly wanting them to tighten around his throat. That beautiful smile, that softness in your face shifts.

“Are you really so impatient?” you ask, snapping with more force than he expects. But through it all, Lucifer sees the sparkle in your eyes. “Diavolo has been so good and the moment I take my eyes off of you--”

Lucifer’s hand falls. His mouth is still slack and he finds himself wanting to pose an idea, one that makes his fluttering chest turn to ice.

“Forgive me,” he shivers when your lip quirks up at the edge. “Perhaps I-- I do need discipline.”

And he thought only you knew the magic words.

Your eyes light up, holding so much joy that it could make him burst. He imagines this is how Diavolo feels when he takes up his place between your knees. Lucifer feels lucky, just for a moment, to have a little of your love. Just a little of your grace.

“Well, since you admitted to it--” you start, grinning from ear to ear. You kiss the man half-folded across your back, patting his cheek with so much affection. “Undress and wait on my bed, there’s a good boy.”

Lucifer straightens up under your hand at the last two words. That jealousy, hot and overwhelming returns. He has a single-minded ambition, to hear such a name used in reference to him.

You notice his shift, but say nothing out loud. You only give him that same, sweet smile and give his throat a gentle tug towards you. He follows, trying his best to forget at how his pride screams. This will be good for him, he thinks. He’s wanted this for so long.

He’s needed it for even longer.

You guide him over your lap, not necessarily the position he was expecting-- but Lucifer is far from stupid. He swallows again, shuts his eyes tight and then remembers to relax. To breathe. You would want that for him.

“It’s the first time, so I promise I won’t hurt you,” you say, and then add, “much.”

He has to stifle a gasp when you take your hand from his neck, instead reaching for his arms.

“Do you want to be tied up? Diavolo likes that, are you all right with trying it?” you ask. It occurs to him after a pause that you’re waiting for an answer. Lucifer shivers.

“Y-yes,” he replies, “I want to try it. And you needn’t worry about being gentle. I-I want it to hurt.”

You coo, the sound almost embarrassing to him. You hold both of his wrists at his lower back with one, loose fist. Your other hand comes to rest on the curve of his rear. You give two, soft pats over the back of his trousers.

“You’re allowed to be fragile, Lucifer,” you say, quiet enough that only he can hear. “I want to do what’s right for you. Will you trust me?”

“I will,” he sighs instead of asking why you have so many questions. It didn’t occur to him that his opinion on the subject might matter.

“Good,” you grin, “before I tie you up, I’m going to take your pants off.”

It’s said so casually that the full weight of that doesn’t hit him until you’ve let him go. His stomach drops and he instinctively raises his hips away from your leg. As if anticipating this, you say nothing but return your hand firmly to his backside. You push down until his crotch and his ignored, blooming arousal make full contact with your thigh.

You undo the button and the zip at the top of his trousers, nudging them down and asking hardly anything of him. You know how vulnerability startles him. The best thing you can be when he’s nervous is independent, stable and strong. This is what he came here for.

“How many strikes have you earned?” you ask when his pants are around his knees. You’re not surprised at all by his choice of demure, black briefs.

“How many--” he cuts himself off, the confusion on his face as he twists around to look at you is adorable. “I don’t know what you’d like me to say.”

“We’ll start with twenty,” you say. He braces himself.

“Are you going to whip me?” he asks, the fear in his voice now palpable. And to his great surprise, you giggle. It isn’t a cruel sound, nor a particularly menacing one. It makes him feel quite warm.

“No, dearest,” you manage when you’ve stopped laughing, “I’m going to do something much nicer.”

He still braces for pain, but you catch him off guard by reaching up and untying the ribbon from the back of your head. Your hair falls around your shoulders, looking lovelier than he expected. With that thin length of silk ribbon, you tie his wrists loosely together.

“Not too tight the first time,” you whisper, “if you enjoy yourself, I can use something less yielding.”

He only nods, turning back on his stomach and looking at the upholstery. Surely now you’ll administer his punishment, he thinks.

But again, you diverge from his expectations. Your hands, now free that his wrists are bound, move to his shoulders of all places. And instead of coming down hard, they settle on either side of his neck. He shivers when you begin to squeeze.

To his shock, you’re rubbing his back. The sensation is less intense over a few layers of clothing, but he finds himself more inclined to listening to his instinct to relax. You take your time, moving slowly down his spine to his hips and raised ass.

Over his briefs, you rub and touch to your heart’s content. Lucifer almost lifts his hips again out of embarrassment, at this angle you can definitely feel his half-hard cock pressing into your thigh. But, perhaps that might be something you enjoy. Oh, he hopes it is.

You move down his thighs and then back up again, pressing your fingers into him and making him sigh. A small part of him hopes that this never ends, a much larger part grows impatient. He gives a wiggle of his hips that’s almost automatic, something he can’t stop before it’s happening. And he hears the sound of your laugh over him again.

“All right, we’ll start,” you say, “let’s just get these out of the way.”

He knows what ‘these’ are immediately. Your finger hooks in the elastic of his briefs, tugging sharply downward until his ass is exposed. He lifts his head sharply, looking at Diavolo who’s now naked on the bed. Lucifer’s mouth falls open, watching as his lover pumps his cock in his fist.

“Eyes down,” you warn. Lucifer does as he’s told. “Twenty, I think I said? Keep count for me.”

He barely has time to nod. Your cupped palm is brought down firmly on his left cheek. Lucifer bucks, but not nearly as much as he imagines he might’ve without the massage. Dutiful as ever, you needn’t remind him,

“One,” he sighs, “thank you, my lady.”

There’s a laugh from the bed, belonging to Diavolo this time. He raises his head with the intent to glare, but finds himself unable to do much more than look longingly. Your hand at the back of his neck pushes him down again.

“Aren’t you a natural, dearest?” you praise, “Good boy.”

He’s stripped of any language that he knows, of any way to tell you how you are loved. It was a bone-deep desire to hear that, he just didn’t imagine it would be so soon. He goes still, only looking up every so often to see if Diavolo still finds the scene arousing. Inevitably, he does.

Strikes two through nineteen --thank you, my lady-- pass by in a blur. His ass is pink when you bring down your palm for what he hopes won’t be the final time. Lucifer’s legs are already parted as far as his trousers will allow, to accommodate his now-painful erection.

But once again, you’ve caught him peeking over the armrest to the bed. There, the king in hell teases and touches himself with the full knowledge that he’s not to come unless under your hand. Lucifer is transfixed.

“Is he in charge here?” you weaponize your question this time, catching him off guard and making him turn sharply. He shakes his head. “No? Then who is?”

“You are, my lady,” Lucifer feels a weight lifted from his chest to admit that. You smirk.

“Sit up, get on your knees,” the authority in your voice has him scrambling to comply. With a small amount of difficulty, he pushes himself up as you instruct. 

You shift so that you’re in front of him, blocking his view.

“Really, Diavolo,” you scold as you undo Lucifer’s tie. “You shouldn’t tease him like that. Hands off until I tell you otherwise.”

“I was anticipating that,” Diavolo replies, but makes a show of taking his palm off his cock. You nod.

Lucifer waits through the whole exchange, barely able to close his open mouth before you turn back to him. His ass is warm, the sensation more pleasant than the general imaginations at breakfast. It feels real, a little painful but earned. He decides to trust, even with no basis, that you love him.

Why else would you care enough to do this to him?

You tug his tie out from his collar, holding it in front of his face. That smile of yours is back, he begins to realize it rears its head whenever you’ve had an idea.

“Since you’re having so much trouble with staring, I’m using this to blindfold you,” you state like it’s everyday. Lucifer does his best not to openly resist, no matter how much instinct demands he try.

He wants it, he knows it. His safeword is in the same place it’s been since the start, nowhere near the tip of his tongue. He nods, even though he knows you purposefully didn’t phrase it like a question.

The last thing he sees is your pretty face, disappearing behind red silk. Pressed so close to his closed eyes, it looks black as pitch. You tie it tight at the back of his head, unlike his wrists, so that it won’t slip an inch.

“Good boy,” you reward again. He leans in when you pat his cheek, seeking out your affection like he’ll die without it. “All right, let’s get you lying down again.”

You help him this time, positioning him over your lap again with more vulnerability than he knows how to allow. But closing his legs is cloyingly painful, it does nothing to help the situation.

Nor does your searching hands.

“You didn’t make a sound except to count, dearest,” you muse. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine,” he replies. His voice sounds strange, not distant but distracted. Your palm presses against his rear, making him gasp.

“There we are,” he can hear the smile in your voice. “Maybe I shouldn’t make you count for the next set, so you can focus on moaning.”

“I wanted to,” he says through gritted teeth. From the bed he can no longer see, Lucifer hears Diavolo’s throaty scoff. “As I said, such things are-- difficult for me.”

“Why don’t we dispense with counting, then?” you sound softer, now. Your fingers are warm but gentle, dragging over his hot skin.

“Will you strike me again?” he asks, wondering if he should prepare.

Your hand in his hair cuts him off. It’s neither rough nor seeking, you brush your fingers over the back of his head, the gesture is surprisingly calming.

“Lucifer, it’s all right. Just relax.” you say, “You’re being very good, it’s starting to worry me.”

“I’m enjoying this,” he replies, “very much.”

“I’m glad, but I’m here to make you feel good. You know that, right?” that concern from earlier comes creeping in. He’s oddly pleased to hear it, to be cared for.

“I do,” he says after a pause.

“And since you’ve been on your best behaviour, I think you’ve earned the right to lie still while I take care of you.” your tone has an air of finality that he agrees with. Lucifer’s shoulders go slack.

He gives an appreciatory grunt when your other hand moves lower. No longer skirting over his bare ass, it reaches between his parted legs. Though he does seize up when you cup your hand around his straining cock, the spasm is not as harsh as it might’ve otherwise been. He settles soon enough, letting himself rock his hips against your hand.

You say nothing, not even to tease him. Perhaps you’re worried he may retreat in on himself if pushed too far. Lucifer finds himself wanting to retaliate, to show thanks in the only way he can think of.

He moans.

The sound shocks you, evidenced by your hand in his hair going still for a second.

“He doesn’t part with those very easily,” Diavolo pipes up. You give him an exasperated smile over your shoulder, still idly exploring your dearest.

“Yes, I know,” you reply. “I’ll have fun with you in a little bit, don’t tease him.”

He lies back down with no further complaint, thankfully. As much as you know him to be a handful, Diavolo seems more than content to behave while you help Lucifer adjust.

You turn back to the demon in question sprawled out on your lap. While you’d love to coax another moan from him, you decide to move on.

Lucifer chokes on a whine when your hand moves down to his thighs, feeling soft skin over hard muscle. And then you retreat to his bared rear again, squeezing and patting with a gentle fascination.

You push your fingers under his shirt next, nudging the fabric up to reveal some of his toned lower back.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper. Goosebumps stand on the back of his neck. “You did so well, I’m very impressed. You were very good for me.”

Lucifer makes another sound, quieter this time and completely unintentional. His face is already flushed, but he swears he turns redder.

The blindfold makes things easier to focus on. It’s harder to cling to the distracting sight of pleasing Diavolo when all he can feel is your hands on him. It does its job, he supposes, as a reminder that he’s here for his own pleasure.

His cock twitches, it throbs with his heartbeat. This morning, he was fairly certain that this would be pleasurable. Now, he knows it completely.

“I’m going to start up again, dearest,” you tell him. “You don’t need to count, but I’ll give you fifteen.”

He lets out a breath, releasing the anticipation he didn’t know he’d been hoarding. Your hand stays in his hair, the grounding presence helping him stay calm.

“Thank you, my lady,” he sighs. 

#lucifer #obey me! #lucifer x reader #diavolo x reader x lucifer #diavolo x reader #lucifer x diavolo #obey me #nsft #anniewrites #i'm EXHAUSTED good night!!!!!!

[bigskydreaming]

Little bit from a fic about the next generation of Titans, in a universe where DC’s weird vendetta against Titan offspring isn’t allowed to get in the way of Robert, Lian, Cerdian, Mar’i, Jake, Irey and Jai all growing up together. Also Sarko, the alternate timeline future son of Kyle Rayner and Soranik Natu because hey why not. 

And with special guest appearance by Mar’i and Jake’s alternate universe half-sibling, Thomas Grayson, son of Dick and Babs, and who takes up his universe’s Red Hood mantle after his Uncle Jason.

*****

“I mean, its not like I have a ton of options here.” Lian spread her arms wide to encompass the rest of the Teen Titans and make it all the more self-explanatory. “We kinda all grew up together, and I’m just saying, once you’ve seen a guy shove a crayon up his nose and then eat it, there’s a little less shine on that future prospective love interest.”

“Hey! That was one time, and I was three!”

“Oh Robbie, neither of those things are even a little bit true,” Lian said pityingly.

He scowled. “Oh, like you’re some great catch yourself. You’re the literal dictionary definition of a walking bi disaster. Remember that time you got ahold of one of your dad’s explosive arrows and brought it to daycare and almost blew us both up? What do you call that, huh?”

Lian narrowed her eyes at him and planted her hands on her hips, adopting a challenging tone that - as Mar’i knew from far too many previous experiences - could carry the name “Brace For Impact.”

“Precocious,” she said loftily. “I almost took out a potential world-ending threat all by myself, when I was five. Way to go, me.”

She pivoted to offer an explanation to their bemused extra-dimensional visitor. “See, there was this whole prophecy thing before Robbie was born, about how he was destined to be the god of douchebags and would grow up to take over the world while calling himself something suitably ridiculous like “Lord Chaos.” So periodically we like to check in with his ego, knock it down a few pegs here and there, make sure its still in manageable ranges. Kinda a team-building exercise.”

“Of course, at this point you’re far more likely to all be my actual villain origin story instead,” Robbie grumbled. Lian leveled a smirk at him.

“Oh, we have contingencies for that too.”

“Yeah, we’ll probably just have the twins run around you in circles at hyper-speed while making up shit about alternate timelines and stating it all as absolute fact,” Cerdian contributed from where he still sat cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in his video game. “It drives Rob up the wall. He just physically can’t with them.”

“Oh come on,” Robbie exploded. “Just because I refuse to take them at face value when they just start spouting off BS about alternate timelines where, wait what was it last week, oh yeah, where Jamie Lee Curtis was Buffy the Vampire Slayer....”

“How dare you!” Irey jumped to her feet. “That was 100% true. I watched every single episode and they were all flawless!”

“Six seasons and a moooooovie,” Jai sang out.

“What does that even mean?” Robbie yelled.

Jai picked cackling like a hyena over giving him an actual answer. 

“You’re so weird.”

“Hey! You know better than to give Jai shit for being weird,” Sarko piped up from across the room. “Its not his fault he has West DNA.”

Jai snapped his fingers and pointed at Kid Ion emphatically. “Y’know, its funny he should mention that. There was actually this one timeline once, where practically everything was the same as this one except our dad’s name was Wally East there instead of Wally West. And you and me were best buds there, Rob. We were like. Sympatico.”

Robbie took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands. “I hate them so much,” he said in a much calmer, almost subdued tone. Conversationally, even.

Which of course was when Irey jumped up onto the couch and shook her fist at her twin, who shook his right back at her, from his seat on the floor.

“They can’t keep getting away with this!” They yelled, in creepy twin-unison.

Mar’i shook her head and sighed. It was like you could actually see the wind-up mechanism hovering invisibly behind Robbie start back up all over again.

“What are you even quoting right now?! One hundred percent of your references are lost on every person who has a normal relationship with the space/time continuum, which is every single person other than you two!”

“Quick Jai, run! Before he gets us, and our little dog too!” Irey yelled, speeding out of the room, her brother hot on her heels.

“Oh no, not our little dog, Garfield!”

“Toto! The little dog’s name is Toto!”

“No, dude, that’s the hamster from the Lion, the Witch and the Laundry Basket. Which, I understand the confusion there, like you’d think there’d be a lion in that movie, not a hamster named Toto, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be taken literally. It was like, a metaphor.”

“Stoooooooooooop!”

Dramatic silence permeated the room in the wake of the trio’s equally dramatic exit. Lian pursed her lips and turned back to Thomas, contemplatively.

“Now I know what you must be thinking. Its not cool that we all gang up on Robbie like that. And that’s true! But there’s something else you have to keep in mind here.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

“Its also really fun for the rest of us.”

He laughed. “Hey, no judgment here. I mean, I’m Mar’i and Jake’s half-brother from another universe, remember? You know how this works. I’m probably evil anyway.”

Lian beamed. 

Mar’i gagged. 

[frostsinth]

Royal Flush - Pt. 11

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

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

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

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

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

All the best!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goblinese??”

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

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

“Can I learn goblinese?” She asked eagerly.

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

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

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

“Good morning, Your Highness.”

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

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

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

“Princess.” He greeted her cheerily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

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

….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“... Grier…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Niko?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chickadee, you shouldn’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Niiikoo!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

“... I haven’t been here very long.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

“It’s not quite-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I miss you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

....

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

“Niko! NikoNikoNikoNikoNIKO!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Chickad-” I tried to start again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A-aah… B-but Morgana-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m getting Hibik.”

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

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

...

UPDATE: Part Twelve HERE

#Royal Flush #goblin king #goblin lover #goblin husband #monster lover #monster husband #monster x male #mlm #male x male #terato #exophilia #monster romance #monster royalty #royal marriage #royal engagement #slow burn #angst

[crystalbahamut]

what roams the night

FFXIV Write Day 2: Aberrant

Summary: Lyna is grateful to the Warrior of Darkness for what they have done for Lakeland, but they remain an oddity she does not fully know how to handle.

Author’s note: I started off wanting to write people talking about the WoL as the First’s Most Loveable Cryptid but ended with this. I think it’s still on theme, though. Takes place some nebulous time in ShB, after Philia is defeated. I also don’t actually know how much the general populace knows of what’s going on, so I’m winging it.

Warnings: Shadowbringers spoilers, playing fast and loose with canon, unspecified WoL/D (they/them used in reference), but also a mention of WoL/D crafting and generally being pleasant and helpful, cross-posted to AO3

Words: 1,188

 ---

“It don’t seem natural.”

Lyna stops, one ear flicking towards a hushed conversation between a group of soldiers currently sitting around a fire on break. She’s been trying to keep track of potential grumbling– the addition of night exercises had caused no small amount of grief when it came to scheduling, but no one could deny the need to acclimate to patrolling in the dark, if only so that everyone stops being so distracted by the stars. This, though, doesn’t sound like complaints about decisions command has made– though Lyna notices one of her lieutenants, Boa-Lann, has a frown on his face and also has an ear turned towards the conversation.

“They didn’t even take a lantern with them– I offered and everything,” the hume says. “I couldn’t escort them, but I figured it wouldn’t do for a friend of the Crystal Exarch to get eaten by a viper on their way to the water. They told me they didn’t need it– the moon was bright enough! I mean, it was brighter than tonight, but still…”

“I think they prefer the dark,” a drahn woman says as she comes to sit with them. “I barely ever see them during the sunlight hours, but I’ve bumped into them twice after my shift.”

An elf private excitedly adds, “I saw them at night too! One time they were just crafting some leathers at a little bench they had set up outside. Weren’t even admiring the sky or nothing.”

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” a ronso says, and more people are gathering when he adds, “I mean…they are…they gotta be…”

Lyna turns her ear away and sighs with frustration as she crosses her arms. A stranger shows up one day, turns out to be a very important guest of the Exarch, goes to fight at a battle at which the Lightwarden of Lakeland is vanquished, and people are not supposed to assume this newcomer is the Warrior of Darkness? The Exarch is not a stupid man– sometimes reckless, eccentric, and always prone to overlooking his own health– but not stupid, and far too devoted to the Crystarium and her people to not know this would happen. She had known this would happen, and so she curses herself for yet being unprepared to deal with it.

“Captain?”

But she is going to have to deal with it now. She tilts her ear back towards the group as though she hasn’t been listening– thankfully there are no other viis to call her on that– and lets her head follow. Behind the (now much bigger) group, Boa-Lann tilts his head in question and she subtly shakes her own. He nods once but stays, and she is thankful for the backup. “What is it?”

“You saw the Warrior of Darkness at the battle for Holminster Switch, didn’t you?” the hume asks and they all eagerly lean forward. Like children, she thinks with faint amusement. They do their duties well; she cannot entirely begrudge them their excitement.

And yet.

“I did,” she says, and before any more questions can be asked, quickly adds, “And I have been forbidden from revealing their identity or anything that can lead to such a reveal. Such orders were given by the Crystal Exarch himself.”

There is, predictably, a lot of groaning and protestations. She remains impassive in the face of them.

“Why?” the ronso asks. “Do the people not deserve to know the face of their savior?”

“I do not think he would disagree with that reasoning,” she says, because she doesn’t. “But it is more complicated than that, as the Warrior of Darkness also requested their identity not be revealed. I cannot speak for my lord but, were I in his place, I would want to keep relations with them as pleasant as possible. They have done us an unimaginable service already…I think abiding their wish for anonymity is not an unreasonable request.”

The ronso grumbles but does not countermand her. He is that sensible, at least.

“I think…I think that’s probably for the best,” a hume woman, one of the healers, says hesitantly. “If they’re here to bring the dark back to the world, they have to go to the other Lightwardens, and then with Eulmore hunting them, it’s just safer and easier to be anonymous, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Lyna says, thankful for the guided distraction. “And…though I cannot say much more, I can say I asked why they would rather remain unknown. They said they prefer the people to direct their admiration to the night sky, where they feel it better belongs. Perhaps they will reveal it themself someday, but for now, their work is not yet done.”

Her words seem to soothe the edge of the more disgruntled ones, and even cause some looks of admiration among the others. Oh well; if the Exarch wants less of such wonder, he can find a way to deal with it.

Lyna stands straight and clears her throat. “And neither is ours. If Eulmore returns they will be unprepared for the darkness of night, but we will be well practiced. So– back to your units. The next break will be for dinner.”

They get up without complaint and Lyna watches them go before she turns– only to come nearly face to face with the subject just discussed. “What-what are you doing here?”

The Warrior smiles apologetically and hefts a bag to readjust it on their shoulder. “Sorry; I saw you talking to your soldiers and didn’t want to interrupt.”

“How did you come up so quietly?” Lyna doesn’t mean to sound so irritated, but her ears work just fine, thank you.

“I stepped around the foliage,” they say, like they did not just come from an angle with no lanterns.

“Sounds like stepping silently in the dark is pretty natural to you,” one of the soldiers says cheekily.

“I’ve participated in a treasure hunt or two. You learn to get real quiet creeping around caves full of things that would like to eat you,” the Warrior says pleasantly and shifts again, either not understanding the implication or completely ignoring it. Lyna doesn’t know fully what to think of them just yet. “Um, Captain, since I have your attention, I don’t suppose you can point me to the mess? I’ve got a delivery from the Crystarium and I’d really like to put it down.”

“You’re helping with dinner?” she asks, because even not being known as The Warrior, surely the Exarch’s guest is above such menial tasks?

“I’m a trained chef; I can help,” the Warrior says defensively. They then drop their voice and wink at Lyna. “I mean…if you can’t trust me with your food, who can you trust, right?”

The first one then. Lyna can’t help but smile ever so slightly. “I suppose you have a point,” she says and directs them to the right building. As she watches them go, cheerfully on their way to help cook dinner for a bunch of soldiers, she shakes her head. The Warrior of Darkness is an odd one, for certain.

But she can’t find it in herself to mind overmuch.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite prompt 2: aberrant #ffxiv fanfic #shadowbringers spoilers #lyna #warrior of light

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 3//

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @judexcardanxgreenbriar, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @emikadreams)

The following couple of days passed in a blur as I tried not to count down the hours leading up to Rhys’s return. After a week apart, the ache for my mate to come home was nearly stifling. I didn’t want to compare it to the near-month we had been separated before the war with Hybern; when I had acted as a double agent for my court, for my family, in order to save them. It was agonizing, my daemati abilities and magic being drained by the faebane slowly poisoning me; all while being unable to fully communicate with Rhys through our bond. Last night, our last apart, I had to remind myself that this was nothing like it; we were in the same court and he was due back in a few hours. Just as I was turning in for the night, I found a note on my dresser and nearly knocked it over as I lept for the folded piece of paper with a simple sentence scribbled in his handwriting: 

I’ll be home first thing in the morning.

I smiled at his words for far longer than was probably necessary, recalling the notes we used to pass each other in the early days of our friendship; before I realized that we could simply communicate through our bond and shared daemati powers, before I even realized we were mates. My heart swelled at the gesture; imagining him writing the quick note and sending it off with a no-doubt smug grin. I chose not to write back and set it back down on the dresser before enduring a fitful sleep. I was glad the symptoms of my illness were nearly gone and no longer plagued me at night; the strange glimmer at my core remained and flitted about from time to time, but it remained calm now as I laid in bed with eyes trained on the wall of windows across from me. The rising sun was beginning to bathe the sky in morning light; oranges, yellows, and soft pinks blending into the night sky as the sun began its slow ascent. I bit my lip as I glanced down at myself, picking off a stray speck of dust from the red and lacy underthings I wore—a favorite of Rhys’s and one I saved for special occasions.

I sighed deeply, closing my eyes for a brief moment as I stretched my stiff limbs. I didn’t have to open my eyes as I felt him a second later. I smiled as the room was filled with his scent—salt, citrus, and rain. I breathed him in, relief filling every inch of me; noting a very faint, yet familiar, aroma radiating between us. Before I could name it, strong arms enveloped me as I opened my eyes and met with violet.

“Hello Feyre darling,” he purred as he pulled me against him.

I arched my back, allowing his arms to encircle my waist. My hands brushed through his dark locks, making the first contact between us delicate and loving, as he hovered over me. My breathing hitched as I realized his Illyrian leathers were already gone and he pulled me closer.

“You’re here,” I breathed.

His lips met the skin between my neck and shoulder, “I did promise I would be here first thing in the morning.”

“I didn’t realize it would literally be at the crack of dawn,” I teased; one hand moving to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other gripped his shoulder, my hips rolling against him.

His hands moved to admire the undergarments I wore, tugging at them with an achingly slow ease, “What can I say? I couldn’t stay away, Feyre darling.”

My breath hitched again as his lips finally caught mine, and any restraint I exercised before now snapped. I kissed him feverishly, hands dragging down his back as his wings flared out instinctively at my touch. I grinned on his lips, “Extra sensitive, are we?”

He growled in response, pressing my hips down as I tried rolling them again, “To think, I almost forgot what a cruel, beautiful thing you are, mate.”

My grin only widened as he moved from my lips down my neck, and further. Leaning my head back with a soft moan, I briefly thought of where the other two Illyrians might be. If Rhys was here, had they remained at the camps to wrap up any leftover business, or-

“Are you really thinking about other males while I’m doing this?” He drawled, nipping at my collarbone as his hand slid between us.

I gasped at his touch, arching my back against him and realized my mental shields had been shamelessly thrown down the second our lips met. Blushing, I tugged at his hair lightly, his eyes meeting mine again as I breathed, “Maybe if you weren’t taking so long, I wouldn’t let my mind wander.”

He growled lowly and the sheer intensity behind those now darkened violet eyes caused me to shiver against him as any previous thoughts and taunts I had vanished; I pulled him back down for a vigorous kiss.

x

Not too long after, we decided not to leave our room for the rest of the day.

He spent the remainder of the morning cherishing every inch of my body, and I did the same, unable to resist him for more than a few minutes before we launched into another round. I couldn’t help feeling amused at our frenzy; reminding me of when we were newly mated. My heart skipped a beat as I remembered what Rhys told me then, about the inherent need to ensure his mate was impregnated. Maybe that was why the frenzy was renewed now; after a week apart, our mating instincts were trying to pick up where we left off before his absence.

Rhys inhaled my scent deeply as a strong hand flattened on my stomach, his face buried in the crook of my neck as we lay in bed--finally allowing ourselves a break. I traced lazy circles on his chest as he took another breath. “Something’s different,” he commented casually.

“What do you mean?” I asked, tracing the dark whorled patterns of the tattoos on his chest; admiring them and dreaming of how to include them into my next painting.

“I don’t know, but something feels off,” he said a little more seriously, and I heard the concern beginning to brew.

I hesitated. I made sure my mental shields were intact as I contemplated revealing my mysterious illness to him. The first night I was sick, my mental shields had been lowered during my vulnerable moment and he was able to guide me through my panic--no doubt being awakened as abruptly as I had been by my nightmare and the illness that followed. Since then, I battled to make sure they remained whole during my nausea spells in order to prevent him from worrying about me further. He noted the delay in my response and frowned.

“You’ve been sick,” it wasn’t a question.

I sighed, “Just a little,” I quickly added before he could protest, “It wasn’t a big deal. I just had a couple of bad days feeling lousy, but I’m much better now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His frown remained, fingers curling into my waist protectively.

“I didn’t want you to worry. You, Cass, and Az had business to take care of in the war camps. How did that go?” I raised a brow, wondering at the slight curl of his lips at the mention of his brothers.

He reigned himself in and sighed, “There were no female recruits in this year’s Rite, as I suspected.”

I rolled my eyes, “I bet Cassian loved that.”

He snorted, “Oh, he loved it so much that Az and I heard all about it for the remainder of our stay.”

“I don’t blame him. He worked hard to train those females, to make sure they were caught up enough to survive out in the mountains,” I empathized. I personally worked with Cassian to train alongside the female Illyrians; giving them my own advice and even instructing some of them on how to properly hold a blade. Tired of Devlon’s constant excuses as to why the females were so behind in their training, Cassian brought them to our own training pit at the estate. After spending several months training with the females of age, I knew how excited they were at the prospect of participating in the Rite.

“I don’t either,” Rhys amended, tracing a finger around my navel; eyeing his own movement as contemplation settled on his face. “We’re going to put more pressure on Devlon for next year. Apparently the other camp lords ‘overwhelmed’ him in their vote to include the females this year.”

I frowned, “Was there any more news on the other camp lords?”

Rhys sighed deeply, already knowing what I was referring to. Ten years ago the son of the camp lord of the Ironcrest camp, Kallon, began spreading post-war dissent among other war camps; putting all the blame of their fallen comrades on the High Lord of the Night Court’s shoulders. Kallon also placed equal responsibility on Cassian and Azriel’s shoulders, seeing as they were not only Illyrian bastards but also close to Rhys and followed his orders. However, after taking over his father as camp lord of Ironcrest, Kallon was silenced once Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel visited the camp. Rhysand made sure to make his presence in the camp known by having Cassian add it to his rotation of monthly check-ins. Not even a year later, the rumors of his insubordination had quieted. We thought the issue was over until Azriel’s recent reports picked up on more of Kallon’s old talks resurfacing among the war camps. During this year's Blood Rite, the trio made it a priority to scavenge any details during their stay in Bloodhaven under the guise of attending and observing the Rite and all its ceremonies and celebrations for their new Illyrian warriors.

“I had Azriel scout the surrounding war camps, and he only picked up on a few of the details we already knew of. It seems they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut with their High Lord present,” He said, moving to press his nose against the hollow of my neck and inhaled my scent once again.

I giggled, tangling my fingers in his hair, “Stop trying to deflect, I want to know more about what happened.”

“So do I,” he breathed deeply, spreading his fingers out on my stomach again as if he were still trying to inspect it.

I furrowed my brow, “Why do you keep touching my stomach and smelling me?”

“Now who’s deflecting?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said, raising his head to look at me. “You were sick while I was gone, and lied to me about it. Now I’m back and your scent is off, I’m trying to figure out why.”

“I didn’t lie,” I muttered, avoiding his consuming gaze for a minute before eventually meeting his eyes; nothing but sheer worry lined them and I sighed, “I was only sick for a few days. It started the night I woke up from that nightmare and puked my guts up. The next day I was sick to my stomach for a few hours, and it was on-and-off for a few days after. I’ve been really tired ever since, but the puking stopped two days ago.”

He frowned, “What could have possibly made you sick?”

I shrugged, “You know how many children I’m around during my painting lessons at the studio. Odds are one of them had something I caught. But I’m fine now, really,” I promised.

His shoulders relaxed a bit, but his hand remained on my stomach, “That doesn’t explain why your scent would be different.”

“Are you saying I smell bad?” I pretended to be hurt.

“Well…” he grinned mischievously as I rolled my eyes and tried turning away from him, but his strong arms kept me in place gently. “Maybe it has to do with our mating bond. A sick female would alarm her mate via her scent.”

“Well there you go. Now that I’m getting better, my regular old scent will come back,” I said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face.

He chuckled, his nose returning to the soft hollow at the base of my neck “Maybe you’re pregnant.”  

I rolled my eyes; he liked to make that joke every time I so much as yawned or expressed any mild manner of fatigue. “I’m not pregnant,” I reluctantly admitted, “I’m due for my cycle in a couple of weeks, if anything that’s probably why I’m still so drained.”

“Should I send for Madja?” He asked, half serious.

I shook my head, “We don’t need to bother her every time my cycle returns, Rhys.”

“You say that every time, and every time she ends up prescribing pain relieving tonics and a slew of herbal teas,” he reasoned, his finger tracing lazy circles around my navel once again.

I smiled, “Which is why I stocked up last time she was here, so don’t call her.”

He sighed reluctantly, but I felt his smile on my skin as he pressed a kiss to the spot, “Fine, but I reserve my right to take care of you.”

I nodded and placed a hand on his chin, tilting his head up in a gesture which he immediately responded to by joining our lips in another deep kiss. “I guess I can deal with that,” I allowed.

He chuckled darkly as he moved from my lips and down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses. I sighed deeply, wanting to give in to another round with him, but I needed to know more about the war camps.

“Did Cassian and Azriel stay behind this morning?” I asked him.

I blinked in alarm at his feral growl as he heard their names, his hands holding me a little more protectively, which seemed to shock him as well. He cleared his throat, “Yes, but they’ll return this afternoon,” he said quietly.

“Rhys,” I began, but he shook his head in apology.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what that was,” he said, true remorse behind his words.

“You haven’t acted this way since we were newly mated,” I said with a frown; now it was my turn to be concerned.

He nodded in agreement, “I know. I think after our time apart, some of my primitive instincts have returned,” he admitted sheepishly.

I smiled in understanding, “I guess this means you’re not allowed to be apart from me for this long ever again.”

“I don’t want to be overbearing,” he divulged, and I knew the thought troubled him.

I shook my head, “You’re not. I didn’t enjoy our time apart anymore than you did,” I reassured, running my hands down his arms before adding “And when you came back...well, you saw how eager I was.”

His feline smile sent my heart fluttering wildly, and I felt that subtle glimmer return at my core for a few seconds. Rhys must have felt it too, because his hand returned to its place on my stomach, “Ever since I felt that tremor between us, my instincts have been heightened. It took everything in my power not to winnow back home to you that night,” he explained.

“It’s probably because I was sick,” I reasoned. “If your innate fae instincts tell you your mate is sick and you can’t tend to them, of course those possessive feelings return.”

He didn’t seem to be that satisfied with my explanation, still ashamed of his behavior, but he nodded. His eyes glanced down at his hand, that earlier scrutiny lining his eyes again. Before I could press him about it, he leaned in to kiss me and sighed deeply.

“Still, I promise I’ll do my best to repress them. Will you bear with me in the meantime?” He asked solemnly.

I nodded, giving him another reassuring smile. “As long as you bear with mine,” I said quietly, shifting my weight in his arms so I could hover over him.

That mischievous grin returned to his handsome face as I straddled him, but faltered when my stomach growled. “Maybe we should have some breakfast first,” he suggested, hands gripping my waist lightly to nudge us apart.

I didn’t budge, instead nipping at a particularly tender spot on his neck that I frequently favored. “Later,” I breathed, a hand dragging down his chest lightly.

He agreed with a groan and leaned his head back as he yielded to my touch.

#feysand #rhys x feyre #feyre x rhysand #feyre cursebreaker #feyre archeron #feyre darling #high lady feyre #rhysand #high lady of the night court #high lord of the night court #high lord rhysand #illyrian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #sjm fandom #feysand babies #velaris #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of nightmares #a court of frost and starlight #court of dreams #a court of silver flames