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lemons3ason · 3 years

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Soul Eater Omegaverse

How the alpha boys would react to you disappearing/ignoring them after a fight!

-Soul Eater Evans-

He didn’t mean to let it slip out, he didn’t mean to say that your compulsive reactions made you weak and would get you killed just like your mother but he did and now he hadn’t seen you after making you whimper for the first time. He got a well deserved slap in the face for saying what he said and just stood there like an idiot as you ran away. He hadn’t seen you since then and his inner Alpha roared at him for making his sweet beautiful omega cry, today marked the eleventh day since he had seen you and he was suffering withdraw. Maka had washed his clothes removing your sweet syrupy scent from them and it was driving him crazy.

“Soul you’re growling again.”, Maka warned continuing to read her book.

The bone haired scythe groaned in annoyance slamming his head against the wood of the desk as a defeated sigh escaped his throat. You hadn’t answered any of his calls or messages, you hadn’t been to class, hell you weren’t even home when he tried to go see you. As lunch time came around the halls were suddenly flooded by gossiping students, Soul immediately caught a whiff of your sweet scent. It was weak but without a doubt it was his (Y/n), his pupils dilated in joy to the thought of seeing you but even as he pushed through the crowd of students he soon realized just how grave his mistake was. You were covered in cuts and dried blood but the look on your face made it obvious that you were suffering an omegan depression.

“W-what happened? What happened to (Y/n)?!”, He growled lunging at your weapon partner who protected you until another member of your pack slammed their elbow into the middle of his back momentarily immobilizing him.

“An Alpha that causes an omega to go into depression isn’t a proper Alpha at all. If you want to talk to her you’ll wait your turn like the rest of us until Stein checks her injuries.”, Your Alpha friend, Serenity, growled ushering (Y/n) and her partner to the nurses office.

Soul remained silent yet persistent the rest of the day, he wouldn’t leave the door of the nurses office even as your pack mates threatened him and waited patiently for them to allow him in. Your partner was the only one to fill him in on what had happened to you, after the fight you had gone into a depression and you wanted to prove that your impulsiveness wouldn’t get you killed but with your mind not at 100% during the fight you were almost easily defeated if it hadn’t been for soul resonance.

“So she was pretty close to getting to see her mom again. She would’ve liked that but we’re to stubborn to let her go just yet.”, He sighed leaning against the wall next to Soul.

“She wanted to prove herself to me...Death why am I such an idiot. She’s already better then me why did I have to go saying something so stupid when I didn’t really mean it!”, Soul growled to himself slamming his fist into the wall out of frustration.

“Rio, it’s time for us to go. Stein’s kicking us out.”, Serenity sighed emerging with the other six members of your pack, “I hope she breaks things off with you you were never a proper alpha for her to begin with.”

As soon as your pack mates were gone Soul rushed into the office to see your body balled up on one of the infirmary beds. Soul sighed as Stein scooted past him on his chair and took a seat next to your exposed hand. He softly traced his fingertips to your knuckles to see if you’d react but you didn’t, he took your hand in his and softly kissed your knuckles as he began to speak to you.

“(Y-y/n)...Hey shortcake...what happened? Why’d you go and disappear on me? I’ve missed you, you know that? Come on (Y/n), talk to me please.”, Soul whimpered rubbing your wrist against his cheek in an attempt to scent you.

You gently pulled your hand away and hid it under the sheets with the rest of your body before your shaky soft voice emerged from the sheets, “I’m weak just like you said.”, that’s what drew the line for him. Soul’s inner alpha was furious with him, his urge to comfort you and apologize took over. He was aggressive yet careful as he pulled the sheets off of you and revealing your pale form and although you wanted to hide Soul wouldn’t let you. He spooned you immediately kissing away at your forehead as he smothered you in his sweet strawberry like scent. Even if you wanted to escape you were basically engulfed by your alpha. You tried to pull out of his grip but you were to weak and he wouldn’t let you. He lifted up your face so you could see him and kissed your lips sweetly as his hands wandered over your frame. He would appease your omega no matter how he had to do it wether through physical touch, word, or actions he would apologize to you and gain back your trust that he lost for saying something so careless and stupid.

“Soul.”, you whimpered shuddering as his hands rubbed your thighs.

“(Y/n),my mega, my mate, my absolute love of my life I’m sorry, I know what I said can’t be taken back but I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I made you this upset. I’m not letting you go or leaving until you accept my apology or at least tell me what I can do to redeem myself. I’m sorry I’m such a terrible alpha, I miss you so much it hurts to be away from you any longer.”, Soul cried, he never cried in front of you, wet hot tears spilled from his eyes as he rubbed his forehead atop yours. You didn’t respond you just held him, you held his face in your hands and softly kissed his desperate lips in an attempt to please his alpha but it wasn’t enough. You both just needed each other and for now that was enough until you got better. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Black ⭐️ Star

It wasn’t rare for you both to argue, you were both just naturally competitive and that’s what he loved about you. He was competitive because he wanted to prove that even he could defeat a god. (Y/n) was competitive because she hated Omegan stereotypes and wanted to prove that she was a capable fighter to everyone, so why did this argument over another alpha complimenting your strength end so horribly. Black Star had hit a breaking point due to several recent defeats and seeing another Alpha make you smile destroyed what little restraint and patience he had left. He tried attacking the other Alpha but you stopped him...you stopped him and Omega, that was all it took to send him into a fury. Things were said that shouldn’t have been said but worst of all he had used your second gender status against you. After screaming at you he seemed to settle down but the guilt from his words flooded him immediately and you left before he could find the right words to apologize.

“(Y/n) your scent is weak on my scarf can you please scent it, I’ll scent your sweat-“

“Leave me alone. An omega beneath you shouldn’t even be in your presence remember?”, you responded coldly making Black Star stop in his tracks.

After the fight you chose to ignore him, if he didn’t need you then why would you need him? Your pack mates provided you enough attention to stay positive and happy as an omega so you didn’t need him but Death did he need you. He knew he was annoying you he could tell by the sour tone your scent took when you noticed him but he wanted to apologize for being a dumbass. If this kept up then you’d move on and another alpha would scoop you up and steal you away or worse mark you and leave him alone forever.

“(Y/n)...(y/n) I’m sorry I-I didn’t mean to-I...It’s just that I-“, he tried to find the right words but your weapon partner had pulled you away from him and rushed to the women’s bathroom to hide.

This silent treatment was driving Black Star insane, he hadn’t seen you in two weeks already and it was driving him mad. He would cry himself to sleep every night as your scent slowly faded from his belongings. Black Star couldn’t handle this anymore you were so much more stronger if this wasn’t torture for you like it was for him. During dinner his emotions seemed to finally escape him.

“Black Star we’re going on a mission with Kid and Maka try to get some sleep so-“

“Tsubaki I don’t want to fight anymore.”, Black Star admitted as tears spilled from his eyes.

Tsubaki’s heart stopped to the very sight of her miester breaking down, separations between alpha and omega pairs always affected the individual parties differently but she didn’t know it would have this much of an effect on her poor miester. She was fed up seeing you both in so much pain, you were stupid for being so stubborn and hiding away from him, and he was stupid for starting the fight and crying over it instead of pushing to apologize properly! The raven haired teen sighed and stood to her feet and quietly left without another word. Black Star just cried over his food before returning to his ridiculously cluttered room. Losing you had made him lose all drive to do anything, what was he to do now that you seemed to be leaving him. He sat in his bed wrapped up in his blankets while staring up at the ceiling replaying the argument in his head again and again...why did he have to be such an idiot?

He heard a soft knock at his door and thought it was Tsubaki so he ignored it, but then he heard another knock and this time a voice, “H-hey Star...you there?”, your voice sounded from the other side of his door but he just though it was his imagination.

“Alpha I’m here.”, you called again the scent of cinnamon rolls poured into his room from his door and he quickly realized that you were there.

You could hear thumping and stomping from behind the door and stepped back as the door swung open revealing your exhausted mate. Tsubaki had dragged you to the house after finding you crying over Black Star in your room and yelled at you to stop being thick headed and stubborn since you were both suffering. You opened your mouth to say something but the moment his hands cupped your cheeks, his lips met yours, and his addicting scent of pine tree and fresh rain flooded your scenes you knew he truly meant that he was sorry. He slowly pushed you back into the wall pressing his body close to yours as he kissed you silly. Finally being able to enjoy your scent and touch you brought a new batch of tears to his eyes and he kissed you like it would be his last.

“B-black mmm Black Star...mmmn~ Black Star listen to me.”, you panted between kisses trying to get his attention.

He was afraid you would tell him something he didn’t want to hear so he didn’t want you to talk. ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Please don’t leave me’ and ‘I love you’ spilled from his lips between each kiss as he desperately tried to apologize to you.

He opened his mouth to say something new but it was the same thought on both of your minds, “I’ve missed you.”, you both sighed.

Black Star’s heart was beating like a drum against your chest as he pressed himself closer to you. You had both finally made up and he refused to make the same mistake again because being separated from you was a worse torture then death itself.

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

Death the Kid

Just for a moment you were reminded that you weren’t good enough for Kid...your insecurities had resurfaced the moment you saw him smiling and dancing with that other omegan girl during the ball. Even when you tried to talk to him about it the other party guests wouldn’t give you two time alone but the final straw was when Kid himself said, “(Y/n) you’re such a needy omega can’t you see I’m busy.”, he’s said it to you many times before as a joke but today you knew he truly meant it by how cruel and rude he was.

“Oh and who might you be little dear? Do you know young master Death?”, one of the guests asked you.

You simply smiled and shook you head much to Kid’s surprise, “My apologize I’m simply another desperate omega making a fool of herself.”, you hummed dipping into a small curtsy before disappearing from sight.

You had made your nest at the Gallows Manor so Kid expected to see you there after the Ball since you seemed upset but you were no where in sight. He called for you through every room in the huge mansion but not once did he get a response or a clue to where you could’ve been. It worried him sure but it was just a party that couldn’t have upset you that bad right? He went to sleep without you that night your side littered in fluffy toys and pillows in hopes that he’d find you buried in a fort of them the next morning but still there was nothing.

“Liz, Patty, has (Y/n) contacted either of you? She didn’t come home last night.”, Kid explained a worried expression etching itself over his face as he started to panic.

“Nope she didn’t call me.”, Patty answered.

“I don’t have anything.”, Liz replied.

“Well without a doubt she’ll be at school. Sebastian is in rut right now so I know her team hasn’t been dispatched on any missions.”, he huffed summoning Beelzebub to get to school earlier in hopes of finding you.

He asked all of his friends and yours to try and find you but still there was no sight of you. Until he discovered that Crona and Team Cerberus had been dispatched on a mission together. He couldn’t believe it, you never once left without asking him to scent your belongings or without a warning so why did you do it now?

“Kid?”, a voice called drawing his attention.

The young reaper’s heart dropped seeing your weapon partner right before him, why was Sebastian here when you were out on a mission? You had no weapon for this A-rank mission this had to be a joke!

“W-why aren’t you with (Y/n)?”, he stuttered reaching for your partner’s collar as his anger boiled, “Why are you here while she’s out there?”

“Because I was in Rut I couldn’t go with her. At least I couldn’t until she snapped me out of it.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean ‘she’ knocked you out of rut?!”, Kid growled.

Kid’s rage was settled the moment he caught a whiff of your scent, Kid was hypersensitive to any change in scents and the burning scent of rubber that was lightly hunted with your usual calm honey apple scent was utterly heartbreaking.

“W-what is this?”, he stuttered shaking as he removed the jacket from his face.

“She came to me crying last night...saying something along the lines of ‘He looked happier with her’ and ‘I was right I’m not good enough for him’ and my favorite bit ‘Who wants to be with an needy omega that has no self confidence?’ Kid I don’t know what you did but for (Y/n)’s sadness to be able to knock me out of rut and trigger my instincts to protect her then whatever you did to her last night might’ve been enough to trigger her into depression. You’re an asshole to not have noticed that (Y/n) never thought of herself as good enough to be your partner.”, Sebastian growled putting his jacket back on.

Kid’s body was shaking, not from anger but from guilt and worry. He didn’t bother staying much longer and ran to the entrance of the school. Once again he summoned Beelzebub and raced to Spain to stop you from getting hurt, he didn’t know! He didn’t once think you would think so poorly of yourself he loved you dearly so he never believed that his love was never enough for you to see what he see in you. You wouldn’t answer his calls so he didn’t bother calling but he knew Crona would! As soon as they did he begged them to put you on the phone or at least get close to you so he could explain himself. He cried his heart out into his phone but still you wouldn’t respond. Crona had to turn down the volume on their end just to keep from drawing attention from the other train passengers but you barely seemed to respond to anything Kid said.

“(Y/n) you’re perfect! You’re perfect because you’re imperfect, you to good to be mine but I can’t dare think of a day going by without you by my side. You’re always there for me when I’m upset, you’ve always been by my side to make me smile or kiss me good morning! (Y/n) I’m sorry I know I was acting out of line yesterday night but if I had known that you weren’t being needy and that you just felt self conscious then I would’ve listened! I would’ve scooped you up and taken you home and laid with you in bed reminding you why you’re so beautiful and perfect for me! I would’ve talked about the future that I want with you as my mate and my wife, you didn’t have to run away from me!”, Kid cried feeling overwhelmed by just how much space separated you from him.

He had to stop, he had to catch his breath, he felt his lungs burning from screaming and from hyperventilating but he had to keep going.

“(Y/n) please just don’t do this. This isn’t going to be an easy mission and you don’t have a weapon please don’t do this.”, he whimpered into the phone hopping that his begging would be enough to stop you.

“I don’t want to see you.”, he couldn’t even register your voice or the fact that you hung up after that. His body was frozen like stone from just the sickened tone of your voice.

He screwed up...he royally screwed up. As if he couldn’t push his powers more then he already had he pushed past his limit, he had to get to Spain and fast! He still had 3800 miles to reach you and he wasn’t going to let you go through with this even if you were mad at him. Even as tears poured from his lifeless golden hue he wouldn’t let his heart forget this pain even after he got you to forgive him. He reached Spain by nightfall and searched for your soul wavelength until he found it in the city of Pamplona, but the mission had already begun he saw the bull like kishin egg charging at your teammates and searched only for you. Until the creature was shot dead by a Barrett M-82 rifle, much to his surprise you were the miester wielding the weapon. You released your temporary weapon partner so they could collect the soul and collapsed to the floor of the rooftop as your fever finally set in.

“(Y/n)!”, Kid screamed drawing everyone’s attention as he raced to your side, he pulled your body close to his and frowned feeling your intense fever from your skin.

“An omegan depression.”, he frowned growling to himself as he held you closer. Your pack mates arrived to get you but the murderous glow in Kid’s eyes kept everyone at bay.

No one would touch you until he pulled you out of depression and no one would see you until he apologized and was forgiven by you.

#soul eater x reader #soul eater #soul evans #death the kid x reader #black star #omegaverse #soul eater omega verse #part two in the works because not enough soul eater smut

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zhongliologist · 3 years

Note

Shibari + Zhongli canon compliant nsfw

Pairing: Zhongli x Gender Neutral!reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!

Words: 3.9k

AN: Hi anon!! Sorry this took a while! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS ONE!! I’m glad I had experience writing something like this before skajdha I decided I can’t fit this into a small drabble, so here’s like a really long version lmao my two itty bitty braincells are now in no-brain mode, so this might be full of typos or errors.

*WARNING!! THIS IS PURE SMUT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, IT IS UPON YOUR DISCRETION. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY*

***

When Zhongli first heard the word while on a stroll late one night, he had realized that there was indeed an artform he had yet to encounter or at least heard of. His curiosity peaked, it was only a matter of time before he finally had to give in and ask you what it was.

“YN, if I may,” he began, settling the cup of tea to the table. “There is something I wish to know.”

Attention caught, you raised your brows at him—surprised that there was actually something Zhongli has yet to know—as you took a mouthful of wonton noodles.

“Sure, ask away,” you replied, chewing.

“Well, this was several nights ago,” Zhongli recounted, his deep voice serious. “I was passing by a group of shipbuilders and I couldn’t help but over hear their conversation.”

You hummed, prompting him to continue while stuffing another serving of blackened bass in your mouth.

“Their discussion involved an artform popular in Inazuma, and apparently has spread all over Teyvat as well,” he continued. “Unfortunately, I have yet to hear about this certain artform. Could you care enlighten me please?”

Leaning your head to the side, you wondered what it was. There wasn’t any popular art trend nowadays which Zhongli doesn’t know, so you became to grow curious as well.

“Did you catch the name of it?”

Zhongli nodded. “Yes. It’s called shibari.”

You almost choked on the food you were eating.

“Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

“I believe it is what I have heard,” he replied. “Is there something wrong?”

Sighing, you were going to have a lot of trouble explaining it to him. It was painfully obvious how Zhongli is so out of touch from the pleasures of mankind.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you decided it was best for him to know, before he does something unexpected.

“It’s kind of a sexual play,” you told him, but despite your words, Zhongli only glanced at you, eyes blinking.

Watching him, you noticed he had placed his hand over his chin—a habit he had whenever he was thinking. Whatever comes out of his thoughts, you were beginning to become nervous.

“I see. So, performing art during intercourse…interesting,” he mumbled to himself. “It is not too far off considering the fact that intercourse could also be deemed as a form of art, wherein it takes specialized honed skill to elicit a pleasurable result. To take two art forms and combine them in one act…I am astonished at the inventiveness of man.”

You took a bite from a dumpling, eyes jaded. “It’s not that grand, you know.”

“Now that I am aware of its existence,” Zhongli continued, paying no heed to your comment. “I wish to experience it myself. YN, I must request for your assistance.”

The dumpling you were eating fell back to your plate. “…what?”

“This…this shibari. I wish to partake in this now popular art form,” he repeated, but you only became more flabbergasted.

“Didn’t you hear me say that it’s a sexual play?!”

“I did. That is why it must be you,” Zhongli replied, taking your hand and placing it over his smirking lips. “You are my lover after all.”

Flustered, you had no choice but to agree. You knew of Zhongli’s immense curiosity and nothing is going to stop him from finding out what he wants to find out. Moreover, you wouldn’t really want him to experience it with someone else.

“F-fine,” you conceded, still nervous. “But give me a month to prepare. You should also ready yourself.”

Wondering why he had to wait and ‘ready’ himself, Zhongli leaned his head to the side. “Very well, but why a month?”

You scratched your nape as you averted your gaze somewhere. “I don’t have the right stuff, and I don’t have enough knowledge to do it properly. So give me some time.”

It had been a month since that conversation had occurred, and Zhongli began to feel a little bit antsy as the day drew near. It wasn’t common for him to feel this nervous energy, always maintaining his calm and composure. But it was different this time.

Since that discussion with you, you had banned any sort of sexual act from sex to masturbation, all except from small kisses; and as someone who had gotten used to your presence in his arms at night, Zhongli instantly felt withdrawal symptoms cloud his dignified countenance.

Zhongli inhaled sharply as soon as you entered his room, anticipation deeply running in his veins. You took a shower right after him, making him wait and allowing his imagination to run rampant inside his head.

“Sorry, did I make you wait?” you asked, making your way to the bed in nothing but a bathrobe.

“No, it’s alright,” Zhongli replied, his long hair now freely flowing after he had taken off his ponytail when he was taking a shower.

Running your hands through his dark hair, you admired the way they slipped against your skin as if they were made of silk. Absentmindedly, you began to braid his hair in a lose coif, making him relax underneath your touch.

“Um…er…YN, are we going to—”

You hummed, interrupting his words as you smiled. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“I fear that I may longer be able to contain my anticipation,” he confessed, feeling your hands on his back through the thin robe he was wearing.

Grinning, you knelt down and embraced him from the back; giving his temple a small kiss. “It seems like I don’t have to ask you if you’re sure about this.”

Loving how you felt so warm around him, Zhongli smiled as well as he intertwined his fingers between yours. “I do feel nervous, but it was I who wished to know; thus I must see it to the end.”

“Well, that settle’s it then,” you replied as you removed yourself from his shoulders. “Before we start, I need to remind you that we can always stop if you can no longer handle it, ok?”

Zhongli sighed. “I am confident that I can handle something like this.”

“Please stop being so stubborn,” you retorted back, annoyed that he really has to insist he wouldn’t need it. “Since it will take you forever to decide, I’ve picked one for you. It’s Rex Lapis. Say it when it gets too much.”

He scoffed. “You retaliate in the most absurd of ways, yet very well, I’ll keep it mind. Nonetheless, that does not mean I will use it.”

You grinned. “You’ll take that back soon enough.”

As you said those words, you shifted from your seat and faced him; hands cupping his chin. There was a look of surprise in Zhongli’s expression as soon as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes—too slow to react at the situation.

“Now, from here on out, I’m the one in charge. Any misdemeanor will warrant due punishment,” you began, voice firm and authoritative. “Are we clear, Zhongli?”

It took him some time to adjust at the sudden shift in the air; stunned at the tone you were giving him. This was probably the first time he had seen you take the lead, and it might’ve given him some sort of whiplash.

“Answer me,” you demanded, which made him jerk his attention back to you.

“I—uh…yes…”

“Very good.”

Smiling at his response, you removed yourself before him and sat just beside him with an easy expression. “Well then, why don’t you take off that robe? Just the robe though, leave your underwear on.”

Brought on by the awkward situation and the fact that you just ordered him to strip, Zhongli’s face immediately heated up to a few degrees. It was strange that he was feeling it for some reason—was this the actual appeal of the performative art form? Or was this simply one of your whims?

As he removed the silk tie tying his robe shut and slid it on the floor, you instructed him to quietly kneel down on the bed before you; hands neatly placed on top of his lap.

“Y-YN…? What is this…?” he asked, confusion marring his youthful face. It was embarrassing to sit on the bed that way, wearing nothing but his underwear, his dick beginning to form a tent.

Yet you only smiled at him.

“Don’t worry. We’re getting to the actual act,” you replied, crawling towards him before placing your hands on his bare chest. “If you can hold on till then, I might actually award you, you know?”

Leaning down, you immediately captured his lips in a deep kiss, moving softly yet sensually against his. Cupping his cheeks, you pushed your tongue inside and easily played with his. For some reason, this felt way hotter than the kisses you previously shared, with Zhongli unable to keep his hands to himself and began to wrap his arms around your waist.

You broke off the kiss with a click of your tongue; your thumb still on his swollen lips.

“YN…”

“What did I say about touching?” you asked, eyes holding nothing but pure mischief.

As soon as he heard you, Zhongli knew he had made a mistake and instantly rescinded his embrace; eliciting a chuckle from you.

“I—uh, forgive me…” he hurriedly told you, his voice beginning to lose their strength as he stuttered and tumbled at the words he used to be so eloquent with. As someone who has prided of his calm demeanor, Zhongli felt a surge of embarrassment at how he easily succumbed to your touch.

It was so adorable to see him like this; all flustered and nervous, making you want to see more of those reactions you have yet to see.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back,” you told him and stood up; an idea forming in your thoughts.

The moment you left; thoughts of things he might’ve done wrong kept repeating inside his head. He was scared that he might’ve crossed something which he shouldn’t have—the sounds of you rummaging through your belongings only exacerbated the nervousness that was already in his system.

However, you were not gone for long. He could sense you behind him, daring not to move or look back, and as soon as you draped a cold silk cloth over his eyes, he instantly realized what he had eagerly signed up for.

For one, as the Geo Archon, it was unimaginable for him to be in such a position, but for some reason, Zhongli found it incredibly arousing to have him at your mercy—to be restricted and ordered around; to be at the other end of the spectrum from what he was used to?

This is strange indeed…

“Don’t you agree that everything feels more vivid when you’re blindfolded?” you asked, now back on his lap; and despite being robbed of sight, he could tell you were smirking. “Does it feel good, Zhongli?”

“I…I cannot be certain…” he replied, the feeling of your intense stare sending shivers down his spine. “I haven’t experienced something like this before…”

At his hesitation, you could only giggle and gave him a small kiss. “Well, there’s a first for everything, but this one here…”

Your voice trailed off, your hand effortlessly finding his half hard dick and pressed on it harshly; eliciting a strangled moan from him. “It’s been feeling good for a while now, don’t you think so Zhongli?”

“I…I—!” He was at a lost for words; the pleasure he felt intoxicating his mind. You were right, the blindfold seemed to heightened his senses to such degrees of vividness.

“I can’t blame you really,” you told him, still toying with his member with your finger but not fully committing on pumping it up and down. “I did tell you to hold off for a month, of course, you’d be unusually sensitive and horny.”

If Zhongli thought his face was hot enough before, he hadn’t anticipated for it to feel full out burning as if his blood was set on fire. He tried holding off the sounds he was making whenever you pepper kisses on his shoulders, but to no avail. He was gradually becoming heady at the immense pleasure your hand was giving. By the time you continued talking, he was already panting heavily, skin flushed and hands balled so tightly into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

“Y-YN…” He wanted to say ‘too much’, but he didn’t want to stop you either.

“I’m impressed you can keep your hands to yourself,” you remarked playfully, rewarding him with a love bite just underneath his jaw. “Why don’t we move on to the actual thing itself?”

Even with the blindfold, Zhongli could feel you standing up; anticipation once again beating wildly against his chest. What were you going to do to him this time?—that was a thrill he had never expected to feel pleasure from.

You returned once more to his side, now with the appropriate items you needed, and brilliant grin on your lips to top it off. It was weirdly exciting for you as well, finally doing something as erotic as this to a dignified gentleman such as Zhongli. Which is why, you couldn’t help but talk him through it.

“I did tell you that shibari some sort of sexual play, right?” you began, as you seized both of his hand and pinned them on his back. “It involves tying someone up with rope, in patterns that are not only visually pleasing but are also designed to make you feel good.”

Zhongli could feel the roughness of the rope cling to his skin as soon as you tied his wrists together before doing various knots up his torso and down to his legs. It was incredibly strange—you were only tying him up but for some reason, he felt so exposed and so turned on.

“The reason why it’s so popular is because it gives a sense of security if you will,” you continued, remembering the patterns you had religiously practiced over and over again for the past month. “As if you were surrendering everything to that one person, trusting that they can give you security, give you pleasure. That is what this art form is.”

Every time he felt your soft hands brush against his damp skin as you tightened the rope around his body, he would control a shudder that kept on surging through him like a multitude of waves. This was beyond the ordinary, a situation Zhongli had not anticipated—you were right when you told him to prepare himself. He definitely did not heed your advice, and it came to him with a price, especially when you finally wrapped some rope around his dick as it stood straight and hard between his legs.

“If only you could see yourself right now, Zhongli,” you told him, pressing firmly on the ropes around his member before nibbling on his earlobe. “Aah, I just want to eat you up.”

With your sultry voice directly sending shockwaves down his lower parts, he could only dig his fingernails on the palm of his hands as the hemp ropes dug deeper in his skin. Even though they were not too tight, the restrictive sensation enveloping his body, plus the way you were touching him now was making him lose his mind.

“YN…YN…p-please, I—!”

He spoke between gasps as he felt your lips suckle on a sensitive point on his neck, his dick twitching as he tried to jerk up.

You hummed amusingly. “What is it, love? Where do you want me to touch you?”

Raking up your fingernails up his toned chest, you smirked as he groaned, unable to find any sort of friction he had been seeking for some time now. The way his long dark locks stuck to his skin because of how much he was sweating, or the way he trembled and shivered at every touch of his skin—you loved them all. As much as how Zhongli was intoxicated by pleasure, you were also heady with the power you had over him.

Not waiting for his answer, you crept your hands up and suddenly pinched his nipples—making him jolt straight up at the abrupt stimulation with a loud moan.

“Do you like it here?” you asked, now lavishing your tongue over a hardened nub; relentless and teasing.

“Ahh…! YN…! Wait, please!”

All of his thoughts had already vanished, replaced only by the sensations of your tongue on his now sensitive nipples, of the ropes wound tightly around him, of how painfully hard his dick was. It felt good, he had to admit it. It felt incredibly good.

“Do you want me to stop? I can always stop,” you asked, smiling. “If not, tell me where else I should touch you.”

Breathless as his chest heaved, Zhongli tried to find the words he wanted to say even as his lips trembled.

“Um…please touch….m-my…”

He was blushing furiously, the word seemingly unable to pass through his lips.

“Your what, Zhongli?” you asked him again, almost cooing but inwardly laughing at how he just can’t say the word ‘dick’.

Biting his lip to stop it from quivering too much, it seemed like he really has to throw every sense of dignity he had in him just to relieve his arousal.

“M-my…pe—ahh!!"

You pinched one of his nipples, pouting. “Don’t you dare call it penis, or else I won’t let you cum. Now, as you were saying?”

If only his head wasn’t too hazy from all the sensations stimulating him simultaneously, he would’ve made a mental note to make you suffer at a later date, but right now, his brain was being ran by his dick.

“P-Please…YN…! My—my…d-dick…I can’t…” he forced between pants as his sweat made the ropes feel even tighter and his underwear feel even more sticky.

Smirking at your victory, you pressed a kiss on his lips, your hands finally removing his dick from the constraints of his underwear. You could feel him groan on your lips as you began to move your hand up and down, and making sure to reach his most sensitive spots.

“Look at you, getting this hard after being tied up,” you whispered to his lips, a grin plastered on your face. “I didn’t know you were this dirty, Zhongli.”

“I-I’m…not!”

He tried to deny it but you kept his mouth shut by squeezing his cock tightly.

“Really now?” you asked, voice low as you kept on pumping him, his voice becoming nothing but dirty noise. “Are you about to cum?”

“YN…!” he growled, the ropes keeping his legs folded biting on his skin. “T-too much….! I’m…!”

Mercilessly, you continued to jerk him off as he crept closer and closer to climax. However, there he realized that the ropes around his member had gotten tighter, and the painful throbbing he felt was because he couldn’t cum.

“Oh? Did you find it out?” you asked, chuckling at the look of desperation so evident in his face. “If you can endure this in a few more minutes, I’ll reward you. How about that?”

“N-no, no….! YN…p-please, I c-can…no longer….” Most of his words were incomprehensible, affected by the pleasure and the pain on his cock.

You hummed playfully once more. “Do you want me to stop then? You can always say the safe word, you know?”

“No! W-wait…please! I n-need…I can’t…!”

“Then endure,” you replied, an idea blooming in your head. Your free hand then reached for the blindfold covering his eyes and unraveled it, allowing him to finally see.

However, he did not have time to recover when you immediately caught his attention.

“Look how hard you are, Zhongli,” you told him, his amber eyes blow wide by his current state. Yet strangely, the thought of him so aroused and at your mercy, only made him harder.

Laying down on the bed with your chest on the mattress, you looked up to him, his dick on your hands; your eyes reflecting mischief. “If you can hold on for a few minutes, I’ll let you cum, alright?”

Zhongli only gazed down on you, face as hot as the sun and as red as beet. He watched as you took his dick in your mouth and began sucking him off. At the sensation, he instantly threw his head back. This was totally different from your hands. This was just incredible.

With lustful eyes, you watched him convulse before as you assaulted him with your tongue—sucking and licking at every sensitive point you knew. The underside and the tip were particularly sensitive and that was where you concentrated.

“A-ahh…! Oh…shit…YN!” he groaned, his deep voice and the way he was now cursing sent you reeling as well. “T-too good…I’m…f-fuck…!”

You chuckled, the vibrations on your throat making his dick twitch as you kept on bobbing your head. Gazing up, you both exchanged glances as you kept on sucking the tip; his eyes tightly closing at the intensity.

“Are you going to cum?” you asked before diving in once again, your hands secretly making their way underneath his underwear and finding his hole. “I’ll help you.”

“W-wait…! T-that’s!” he jolted up yet unable to do anything but feel your fingers brushing around the rim.

Prodding at his hole, you enjoyed watching the pained yet lustful expression he was making on his otherwise stoic face. His eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth ajar as drool poured down his chin. It was fascinating, addicting. You can’t help but tease him endlessly, relentlessly as he kept on moaning your name again and again as if under a spell.

“P-Please….let me…I can’t…I’m going to….Y-YN…!”

Deciding that this was finally the limit of his first time, you cleverly untied the knot on his back which kept the rope around his pelvis secure, allowing it to loosen.

Still sucking him off and poking on his hole, you could feel him twitch inside your mouth, an indication that he was close.

“YN…! I’m….ughh…c-coming!”

In a few pumps, Zhongli climaxed in your mouth; his warm cum on your throat. It was a bit too much, and a little thick so you were unable to swallow everything, allowing it to drip down your chin.

Released from his high, Zhongli couldn’t believe he just had his biggest nut of his life after being tied up. It was in every ounce, shameful and embarrassing but it just felt too good for him to resist at all. Maybe it wasn’t too much of a bad thought to do this once in a while.

Eventually, you loosened the ropes that were still on him and took note of the rope markings on his skin, reminding yourself to give him that special balm you got for this exact purpose. As soon as you released him, you pulled him to a deep kiss which he gladly reciprocated.

Unlike your previous ones, this kiss was one of concern and care—asking and answering questions that were difficult to convey. As your lips moved against each other, your chest began to warm and float, glad that you were able to deliver his request. When you both pulled away, the normal Zhongli was back; his eyes warm and lively.

“I’m glad it felt good,” you told him, cupping his cheek. “I was afraid I might hurt you or something.”

He only chuckled and gave you a pat. “I did tell you I can handle it.”

You sighed in relief, loving the way he was touching you. “So, how about we sleep—"

Zhongli however interrupted you, pushing you down the bed, pinning your wrists. He was smiling but you definitely knew you were screwed.

“I reckon it is time for me take my revenge,” he gazed at you, eyes turning feral. “No one will be sleeping tonight.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #zhongli scenarios #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli fanfiction

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Searing Starlight (chapter two)

A/n Chapter twooo!! I cannot believe the support I’ve been getting on here im so excited to share my six of crows/shadow and bone fics with y’all!

Lmk if you’d like to be tagged when I update this story!! And just letting y’all know I take requests so if you have an idea you’d like to see me attempt feel free to comment it or send it in :))

At least Kaz’s claimed ‘wraith’ (which is such an odd thing to just have) is a girl, and a seemingly kind one at that. She was quick to find me, body pressed into wooden shelves and glass bottles, and subtly gesture for me to follow her. It had been difficult to keep track of her flighty form through the crowd, but I think there was a point in her strange raveling, to make sure no one was following me.

She’s not particularly talkative, but she doesn’t seem bothered by me. She tossed me a random oversized shirt to pull over my dress when she saw how I kept adjusting the fabric and crossing my arms. That was kinder than she needed to be. I think I’ll like her.

“So you’re a wraith,” I manage, breaking the nervous silence, “Like a full time, constantly on-call wraith.”

The question seems to puzzle her, dark eyebrows drawing together. “Yes.” The corner of her mouth twitches up slightly, a smile. “A full time, constantly on-call wraith.” She hesitates, perfect stance adjusting. “What were you doing before?”

Great. This question. “Nothing important.” It’s not a fair cop-out. Especially since she answered my question. “I um...I’m indentured to Rollan Kenya.”

I watch her reaction to the name. Some know of him. Some revere him. Some loathe him and everything he’s associated with. “His religious interpretations are controversial.”

“If you think what he says to the public is bad you should hear what he says in private.” I push myself further into the chair I’m in.

Something strange flickers over her features. “I can imagine.”

Shaking my head, I hope I’m ending this conversation. “What’s your name?”

A hesitation. “Inej.”

I nod once, “I’m y/n.”

“Do you need water, y/n?”

I scratch my still exposed knee. “That’d be nice. Thank you.”

She’s quick to leave, feet making no noise. A minute later she returns with a cup. I have no reason to suspect her, but I still sniff the cup before taking a cautious sip. I wonder if Anya made it back home. I wonder if she’s worse off for it.

Before I can fall into a pit of debating despair, the door to the room Inej took me to squeaks open. On instinct, I snap my gaze towards the door, tensing. The first person I notice is Kaz, entering the room with a determination too intense for this time of night. Jesper is quick to follow, and I drop my stare. I’ve never had to interact with anyone I’ve lied to after taking their money.

“Are they gone?” Inej asks, clearly accustomed to such brooding tension.

Kaz nods once, “It took too much convincing--the Inferni’s more than she’s letting on.”

I’m literally in the room. “I’m not--we’ve spoken two words to each other, sorry my abilities didn’t come up.”

He turns towards me with a deadly grace. My grip on the cup tightens. What the hell is wrong for me? How deeply instilled is that god complex Kenya wanted in me? It must be as part of me as my name if I felt comfortable enough to speak that way to Kaz Brekker.

I keep my eyes on his cane, waiting for some kind of physical retaliation. “Maybe the grisha hunting you would appreciate your sense of humor more.”

It’s a bluff. He needs me. He’s desperate for something that can mimic a Sun Summoner. Still though, I’m not in the mood to poke a bear with a stick. “Speaking from experience,” I clear my throat awkwardly, “They tend not to.”

“Then I suggest you begin explaining before I decide I’d rather take my chances and you lose your worth.”

Maybe if I hadn’t spent the last eleven years of my life with Kenya, his words would haunt me. I keep my expression set, but the lanterns in the room flicker. “It’s not as impressive as they’re making it seem--Inferni can produce fire, regular, red, bright fire.” I pause, feeling energy in my palms. “I can do the same, but I can also,” I extend a flat palm, “Do this.”

I focus my energy on restraint, forcing the fire on my skin to remain there, covering my palms in a cold, blue glow. “It’s still fire, just blue--and that matters to them because blue light is the only kind you can use in the Fold.” Do they know anything about the fold? “Kenya, the man I’m indentured to, believes that this ability makes me eligible for Sainthood. He specializes in collecting people he thinks are eligible for Sainthood.” The low flame coating my palm licks upwards as I remember what disappointing Kenya means. “And if you don’t meet his standards, he’ll find a way to make sure you do. That’s why the grisha want me. He made me more and they believe that if they give me to someone who can give me an amplifier I’ll be able to produce enough blue light to protect an entire fleet.”

“What do you mean ‘he’ll find a way to make sure you do’?” Inej’s voice is cautious. An attempt to be respectful.

I drop my palm, letting the fire disappear into nothingness. “I wasn’t born with the ability to control the blue light so well--It’s difficult enough to produce for longer than two seconds let alone keep it from burning everything in sight. By the time I ended up in Kenya’s control he had learned that certain stimulants. Some scientists are working on a more grisha-targeted kind, but Kenya has managed to work with the generic well enough.” Hands shaking, I wipe the condensation off the side of the cup and hold out my wrist. Using the condensation, I begin to wipe at my wrist and forearm, smearing my makeup and revealing the needle bruises. “The key is withdrawals.”

Thoughts of begging Kenya, crying and screaming for another fix as he promised to give me that as soon as I showed some control of my abilities, make the shaking in my hand worse. I clasp my hands together, squeezing them in hopes of hiding the signs of withdrawal.

I stare at the ground, not wanting to take anyone’s reaction in. I handle pity as well as I handle kindness.

“Do you think you could produce enough blue light for one ship?”

Looking up, I take in Kaz’s measured expression. I’m glad he’s sticking to business. I’d rather that than deal with unpacking all of that with a group of strangers that don’t care if I live or die.

“I could try.” I’ve never tried to protect anything that large. “Even if I can, it doesn’t mean a voyage like that will be safe.”

“There’s no real safety in the Fold,” he replies easily. Realistic expectations. That will make this easier. “No one finds out about her--especially not Pekka Rollins.”

I pull my arm towards my body, glad for the opportunity to hide the bruises. Signs of my weakness. The worst part was always the way Kenya would speak to me after. Pathetic. Weak. Trapped within the restraints of my flesh.

“Who’s Pekka Rollins?”

Kaz briefly turns his head in my direction. “No one that will ever concern you.” He ignores my annoyed huff. “We’ll use the Inferni to get to Alina Starkov.”

Alina. Alina Starkov. “What do you want with Alina?”

At that, the room seems to drain. I feel weirder than when they were seeing my abilities.

“You know her?” Jesper’s surprise reveals more than Kaz wants him to. I don’t miss the glare he receives.

I half-shrug. “We were in the same orphanage for awhile.”

“How did you get to Ketterdam?” I don’t trust Kaz’s urgency.

“I don’t remember, I was a child and I--I hit my head that night I think. I just woke up and I was with Kenya.”

“How well do you know Alina?”

There was a point in time in which she was my best friend. We learned how to braid hair by practicing on each other, we would draw maps together, and I was the only one who knew about her crush on Mal. “Not that well.”

He takes a step forward, eyes almost squinting. The touch of distrust is evident on his face. “If you’re lying I’ll find out.”

I owe Alina at least this. “Well then it’s a good thing I’m not.”

I’m not naive enough to believe that I’ve convinced him, but his intense gaze does not remain on me. I’m relieved when his attention is off of me, but he’s only moving on to start planning the riskiest thing I’ve ever done.

Taglist: @ambrosia-v-black

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bellshells · 3 years

Text

Right and Wrong

This was a request from a lovely anonymous person who had had a dream about our resident dungeon bat and I couldn’t pass up the chance to write it! Hope you like it, dear!

Pairing: Severus Snape x Fem!Reader Summary: Reader is a new Professor training under Professor Flitwick when she receives some help with her marking from Professor Snape. Warnings: Language, Smoking, Smut (dear lord), Dominant Severus, Implied D/s themes, Spanking(?) Word Count: 3.8k+

Marking. You hadn’t thought at all about it when you had agreed to return to Hogwarts. The transition from student to Professor had been one that you had found surprisingly easy, and when Professor Dumbledore had sought you out that evening behind the bar at The Leaky Cauldron; he had made you an offer you couldn’t refuse. The chance to train under Professor Flitwick would put you in good stead to gain the relevant skills to apply for teaching posts in magical schools abroad, and whilst you enjoyed working for Tom in Diagon Alley; you couldn’t see yourself pulling pints of Butterbeer forever. Filius wanted to retire, neither he nor Albus made any secrets regarding that fact and you wondered whether Albus would ask you to stay on at Hogwarts once the charms master retired. A large part of you wished for that greatly.

Marking. Infuriatingly, it hadn’t occurred to you how much of your time it would steal when you assumed your position. You spent hours upon hours marking tests, essays and exams and any time you had outside of that was swallowed by lesson planning. You weren’t ungrateful, not by any means, but you were certainly tired. It was the weekend, as Filius had reminded you as he wrapped his cloak tight around his chest and cast a disapproving look in your direction. “You are aware that it is Friday evening?” The short professor said as he made his way to the classroom door, he pulled it open and waited. “Well, are you coming? Minerva has saved us a table at The Three Broomsticks.” “I wish I could, Professor.” You smiled ruefully, “I’ve got all this marking to do, and I don’t think my boss is going to give me a hand. He’s so very lazy you see.” You winked. Filius clutched his chest, a look of mock heartbreak flashed over his bespectacled face. “You wound me, Miss (Y/L/N). Leave those essays, they’re only first years. They’ll have forgotten everything by Monday.” He outstretched his arm, an offer to escape. You shook your head and offered him a small smile. “Honestly sir, you go on without me. I’ll just sit and think about these essays if I don’t finish them, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself.” Filius seemed placated by that and nodded somewhat approvingly. He raised a hand and gave you a small wave, he closed the door behind him and left you alone with the rustle of parchment for company.

Another hour passed with a flurry of your quill, the darkness that had threaten to breach the castle’s walls had succeeded in its assault and with an almost distracted movement of your wand, the candles dispersed around the room flickered into life and you rubbed your hand wearily across your eyes. You didn’t want to stop, but you had worked your way through the rest of the first-year essays and were now attempting to weather the OWL practice exams. Filius really should be present, you thought. Whilst it had only been a few years since you yourself had taken your NEWT charm exam; you were hesitant in your corrections. Your eyes flickered to the closed door and you sighed heavily, your hand travelled into the pocket of your trousers and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. Smoking for students was banned completely, but teachers were granted a small patch of land beside the Forbidden Forest for a quick cigarette break. You glanced towards the window, it was pitch-black outside now, and a heavy patter of rain assaulted the window. Fuck that, you thought. You grasped a cigarette between your lips and mumbled as best you could a spell to light it. You slumped back in your hard-backed chair and closed your eyes; the only sound the crackle of the singed tobacco as you took a deep drag of your cigarette.

“I’m assuming Professor Flitwick is indisposed this evening if you are here alone and…breaking school rules.” A voice from the doorway startled you and a heat rose across your cheeks. You dropped your cigarette onto the desk it rolled onto the parchments in front of you and you panicked, you picked it up and dropped it onto the stone floor, the heel of your shoe making quick work of the burning tip. The parchment, fairly unscathed sat mockingly before you. Professor Snape stood still; a look of bemusement etched across his pale face. “Professor, you made me jump.” You exhaled; your heart thundered in your chest. You knew you were done for; he would surely tell Filius of your disregard for the school rules and you would be sent back to The Leaky Cauldron. “Clearly.” You chewed on your bottom lip and waited for him to do something, to say anything but he remained still in the doorway. The flickering light from the candles illuminated him almost menacingly, his stance was predatory but the usual sneer he adorned was replaced with something a little more human, a smile, almost. You cleared your throat. “Can I help you with something, Professor? Filius has gone into Hogsmeade, but I’m here.” “Yes, as I haven’t lost my sight Miss (Y/L/N). I can quite plainly see you.” He snapped. Professor Snape made one step into the classroom and stopped, his hand still on the door handle. “No matter. Goodnight.” “Professor?” You called after him, he had turned to leave but at the sound of your voice he stopped and turned slowly to face you. Your teeth returned to your lip, in the dim light of the room you could have sworn that Professor Snape’s eyes flickered down to your mouth, but his dark gaze was upon your face in an instant, his look impatient. “I would really appreciate it wouldn’t tell anyone that you caught me smoking in here, Professor. It won’t happen again, I assure you. It was just a stupid lapse in my generally good judgement.” You gave him a weak smile and waited. He swept his eyes from the top of your head to your feet and you shuddered, his tongue protruded from his mouth slightly to wet his lips and all the air seemed to dissipate from the room. You felt the familiar warmth cross your cheeks as your eyes fixated on the potions master, his graceful nod elicited from you a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You felt relief wash over you with the agreement from Professor Snape and you smiled widely at him. “Was there anything else, Miss (Y/L/N)?” He said quietly, you weren’t mistaken this time. Professor Snape stared intently at your mouth, almost unashamedly as your eyes lowered to your desk. You nearly shook your head until Miss Granger’s unmarked exam caught your attention. “Actually, yes.” You almost whispered, you returned to your chair and sat slowly. “I’m having trouble marking these mock exams, Professor. I wonder if you could help…direct me.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards; you took a breath unsure of what you were doing. You had never considered the idea of flirting with Professor Snape, he had never displayed any inkling of desire toward anyone in your presence- including yourself and so, you had just never thought about it. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive, well, he probably wasn’t to everyone’s tastes; but the potions master held an authoritative allure that you couldn’t deny. His high cheek-boned face was one that you had seen hundreds of times, the onyx eyes that you had avoided on many occasions as a student had now captivated your attention as he swept elegantly from the doorway to behind your chair. You could smell him before he placed his hands either side of your body, resting on the desk. He smelled of cedarwood and myrrh, a waft of Lily of the Valley reached you and it reminded you of the intense scent of churches, the feel of the wooden pews, of being on your knees. “What is it that seems to be…troubling you?” Professor Snape breathed; his voice close to your right ear. The ends of his black hair tickled your cheek as you struggled to think. You pulled Miss Granger’s exam towards you and shook your head. “It’s this question here sir, I’m not sure if it’s worded correctly. It gives the student the opportunity to be right and wrong with their answer. See?” He hummed as he read over Miss Granger’s effort, you tried to stay perfectly still. Terrified that if you moved even an inch, Professor Snape would withdraw from you. You could see his pulse in his wrist as his hands splayed in front of you, he tapped a finger. “Well, I think it’s just the nature of the beast Miss (Y/L/N). To be both right and wrong.” Professor Snape whispered, he seemed closer this time. His warm breath on your ear, your chest heaved as the seconds passed. You dared a look at him, you slowly turned your head and found his face mere inches from yours. You could smell firewhisky now, his lips slightly parted as his eyes found yours. “And sometimes,” He breathed, his nose touched yours. His face edged closer with each short breath. “You can be neither right nor wrong.”

It was impossible to say who initiated the kiss. In a second your lips crashed together, and a groan rose in your throat as he brought his hand to the back of your head and pulled on your hair. He tasted of whisky and it was almost disorientating, your mind was full of nothing but him as you brought your hands up to the back of his neck to anchor him in place. His lips found your jaw and he kissed down to your neck, his teeth grazed across your skin and you shuddered again. He pulled you up by your shirt and brought both his hands down your body and squeezed your rump roughly, his long fingers inflicting a delicious pain across your backside as he gave it a sharp smack. The shock of the impact made you gasp, and your eyes flew open, Professor Snape’s face was again only inches from yours, his dark eyes half closed and full of desire. Your stomach flipped as he pulled your hips against him, you rubbed your thighs together, in desperate need of contact. “Did you like that?” He whispered, his hands once more finding your bum. He rubbed the place where he had spanked you, and your head rolled back. His mouth attacked the exposed skin there, his hand left you only to be replaced with another smack, this one harder than the one before. You moaned loudly, and he chuckled. He withdrew from you and eyed your face; you were flushed and panting. You had never been spanked before, but the dampness in your knickers was a definite confirmation, if not for him- but for you. Professor Snape brought his hands up to his great frock coat and started to undo the buttons, you watched him meticulously, as if in a trance. As one by one, his deft fingers made quick work of his outer layer. You felt it only polite to remove your jumper, he let his coat drop to the floor as he watched you. You discarded your jumper with his coat and reached out for him, he instead sneered at you. “Continue.”

You blushed again as your fingers found the bottom of the t-shirt you wore, you tried desperately to remember which bra you had thrown on this morning, abandoning all hope for a matching underwear set, they were for celebrities and for people with more money than sense. To your dismay, a plan black bra met your gaze as you shoved your shirt over your head, you hadn’t noticed he had approached you until you felt his hands on your stomach. His fingers were featherlike as they moved upwards and to your back, unclasping your bra with ease and flinging it onto the floor. You looked up at his pale face as he licked his lips, he grasped your breasts and pushed them together. “Beautiful.” He said quite matter-of-factly, he dipped his head and took a nipple in his mouth lightly, he sucked slowly and then grazed his teeth across the hardened peak. Your fingers found his hair and pulled, you craved a rougher hand than the one he was dealing, and he seemed to understand your silent wish as he tugged hard on your other nipple, sending a wave of hot pleasure through you straight to your quim. He continued to lick and suck on your nipples as you arched your back to him and moaned wantonly, the desire which had built in you had now reached its peak and you needed more. You placed a finger under his chin and lifted his head to you, his mouth again found yours with ease. Gods, this man was beautiful. How had you never noticed this before? His features were strong and noble, and his eyes so dark like the expanse of the beyond; you felt like you could sink into them. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you etched every inch of this mans face to your memory, the way he looked at you in that moment. He was divine. You could feel his arousal pressed hard against your stomach and you moved a hand to palm him through his trousers, he grunted in your ear as he bucked his hips forward. He pulled impatiently at the waistband of your trousers and you shoved them down your thighs and stepped out of them, you moved to remove your underwear when he grasped your wrist tightly. “No,” he said. “Not yet.” Professor Snape pushed you forward slightly with a warm hand on the base of your back. “Grasp each side of the desk and bend over. Legs spread.” You complied silently, the knot of desire in your stomach was becoming very hard to ignore as he lowered himself to his knees, his face level with your cunt. “My my,” He whispered against the inside of your thigh, you shuddered as his warm breath hit the sensitive skin there. “You are positively soaked, Miss (Y/L/N). Is this all for me?” He asked playfully. You groaned as he drew a finger over your clothed sex, your legs trembled as you thrust yourself in his direction. “Was it from me playing with your exquisite breasts that made you this wet, I wonder?” Professor Snape spoke directly to your dripping core, it was uncomfortable with him being so close to you, the odd touch to your neediness but no relief. “Or was it when I struck you?” He mused. You felt a whimper escape your lips, you needed him to touch you. You needed him to make you come. He laughed at your turmoil. “Shall we find out?” He seemed to pause; you could feel a change in him from behind you. “If at any point you feel uncomfortable and want to stop, you are to say ‘Red’ loud and clear. Do you understand?” “Yes.” “Yes?” “Yes…Professor.”

It was only a second or two before you felt another blow on your behind, this one, rather more painful than the other two had been without the flimsy padding of your trousers. You couldn’t help the small yelp of surprise that left you as he struck you again, this time on the other cheek. You expected the harsh sting of a slap to consume you, but it never did. You found yourself moaning and thrusting your backside up to meet each swing of his hand. You had never experienced anything like the feel of his hands on your bum, the inferno that came from the impact and the delicious pain it brought with it. You felt like you were on fire, you writhed beneath him. You could feel your wetness drip down your thighs, tears pricked your eyes with need. You needed him desperately. Gods, you wanted him to fuck you. “Good girl, you’ve done ever so well.” Professor Snape praised you as he rubbed the sensitive skin of your bum, warm and slightly sore. “Please.” You whispered into the desk, you weren’t sure if he heard you but then you felt him, his torso against your back, his mouth close to you again. “Please what?” “Please touch me! Please fuck me, Professor. I need…I need-!” “You need what, Miss (Y/L/N)? You need my cock? You need me to make you come?” “Yes!” You exclaimed exasperated, “Please fuck me! Please sir!” He chuckled again and he removed himself from you, you wanted to roll over onto your back, to see him. But there was a part of your psyche that had taken over, you knew better to do something he hadn’t instructed you to do. “Would you like me to make you come before I fuck you?” He asked gruffly, he grasped your knickers from the back and thrust them down to your knees. You heard him behind you, he was close enough for you to hear various buttons and zips being used. “Yes, oh please sir!” You almost squealed, you fought the urge to stamp your foot. You were tired and so full of want; you weren’t sure you would be able to function if he didn’t touch you soon. “Well, seeing as my good girl asked so politely.” Professor Snape said as though he were speaking through treacle, you thought you would go mad. A gentle finger was pressed against your clit, he drew it at a torturously slow pace over your entrance, swirling it slightly. He plunged it inside you suddenly and slid another in to meet it. You pushed your hips back, desperate for more. You wailed in desperation, Professor Snape seemed to sense your restlessness and curled his fingers inside you, he picked a quick pace and fucked you roughly with his fingers. He brought his other hand over your thigh and began rubbing your clit. It was incredible, after all his teasing, he was finally touching you. A slew of curses left your lips as you gyrated against his skilful fingers, desperate for relief. You heard him groan as a new trickle of wetness left you as he removed his fingers, to double his efforts on your clit. He rubbed from side to side, his fingers hard against you and you bit down on your lip. You hadn’t realised until now how much restraint Professor Snape had been showing, he pressed his hips against your core as if involuntarily as you felt that tight coil inside as it began to unfurl. “Oh Professor,” You gasped, “I’m going to-” “Yes, you come! Good girl, come all over my fingers.” He commanded breathlessly, he quickened his pace and you came undone, it was visceral, and you cried out, your legs almost buckled under the pressure of your orgasm. He rubbed you until he was sure your orgasm had subsided, only when you relented in your whimpering did he slide his cock against your slick folds.

He entered you slowly, you were grateful for the time to adjust to his girth before you began to move your hips against him. He grappled at your arms and folded them behind your back. “Hold on to the elbow of your other arm.” Professor Snape commanded and you did so without question. It appeared his gentleness was at an end as he thrust into you, filling you to the hilt. You hissed at the decadent pain that accompanied it, you felt full of him. It was like nothing you had ever felt before, to be taken in this manner. His thrusts were swift, sharp and unrelenting. Like he wasn’t fucking you to make you feel good, it was all for him and that just turned you on more. You moaned with every flick of his hips as he reached deep inside you, eliciting pleasure with every movement. “You take my cock like a slut, is that what you are?” He demanded; his voice strained from the effort. You tried to answer him, but the only thing you could do was moan. The filth that was falling from his lips was like the most beautiful music you had ever heard; his deep baritone was all encompassing as he slapped your backside once more. “Answer me, girl!” “Yes! Yes sir!” “And,” He panted, he reached one hand between your legs to play with your clit. “Do you love my cock?” “Yes sir, I love it!” You cried; the pleasure was almost too much. He was fucking you hard, his fingers were quick against you and you found yourself being flung towards the wall of your orgasm. “Say it…again!” “I love your cock sir!” He slapped your clit as you came; you cried his name as your orgasm rose to heights previously uncharted and you sobbed. You were hot and sticky and so completely spent, but he didn’t stop. He continued in pursuit of his own release, your name sizzling on his lips as his thrusts became sloppy until he finally burst inside you. One, two, three more pumps into you before he collapsed on top of you. His face against your shoulder blades, he panted between the sloppy kisses he placed there, his hands coming to your arms to release them from their position. Your arms ached as they flopped to your sides.

Professor Snape pulled out of you gently and placed his hands either side of your ribs to help you onto your feet. You felt a void in your chest. Now, suddenly empty of him; you felt a longing for the stiff potions master, who had used you so deliciously. You wanted him, again. “Can you walk?” “Yes, I think so.” He offered you a quick smirk as you pulled your ruined knickers up from around your knees. “Good,” He said. “You can accompany me back to my rooms.” It wasn’t a question. Professor Snape chuckled darkly at your apparent shocked expression. He closed the gap between you in one swift movement and brought his lips to yours tenderly. “You’ve been a very good girl, Miss (Y/L/N). I should like to look after you this evening. Somewhere a little more…private.” You nodded and averted your eyes, you began to pick up your clothes and dress quickly. You wondered almost incredulously if Professor Snape desired your company as much as you desired his. “Does that sound agreeable, Miss (Y/L/N)” “Oh yes, sir.” You answered quickly, your eyes found his already dark with a renewed desire. “Good, because I think I would like to fuck you again. Once we have had the chance to bathe that is, I’m sure you’ll find my quarters adequate.” He said with a small smile. “Then I might help you with your marking.”

Marking. One thing you hadn’t thought about when you agreed to return to Hogwarts. It certainly didn’t seem so much like a chore anymore.

#severus snape #professor snape #pro severus snape #Pro Snape #snape smut #Severus Snape smut #severus snape x reader #snape x reader #professor snape x reader #harry potter #godrics-swallow

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Afterglow - Part 10

A/N: Hello! It is finally time for some more Frankie! I hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: drug and alcohol mentions;

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d cried yourself to sleep that night, telling yourself that it was okay to wallow and be sad for now - one night. Frankie had slipped through your fingers like sand once before and you weren’t going to let him go again; at least not that easily. You were going to fight for him, to make sure that whatever was going on with him wouldn’t take over. Whether or not he was mad, or he wanted nothing to do with you anymore, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was keeping him safe and sound.

You woke up the next morning with a fierce determination; quickly cleaning up the mess from the previous night and showering and dressing. After getting breakfast for Daisy, you promised her that you’d be back soon and made the short trek over to Frankie’s house. When you got there, you noticed that his truck was gone, and the house was locked up. Huffing silently to yourself, you went around to the back and sure enough the back door was unlocked. Whether it was intentional or not, you were glad it was open.

Slipping inside, you quickly reacquainted yourself with the space, looking around the house that he had made his home. When you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed it was spotless, everything was pristine, and there was almost no hint that anyone lived there. A small sound escaped your lips as you went around and found the rest of the house to be in the same condition. Strange, you thought to yourself, he must have gone a cleaning spree.

You hesitated when you reached his bedroom, but pushed the door open and stepped in any way. It felt so odd to be there, his personal little sanctuary, but it still felt warm and comforting. His bed was made and everything was organized including his dresser and closet and the connecting bathroom. Pausing when you passed by the dresser, you picked up the picture frame, an instant smile stretching across your features when you noticed that it was a photo of you. This one you’d never seen before; it was something he’d kept this whole time and you’d never known. It was you - all curled up in a big blanket with only your head poking out from under the covers and a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes closed tightly. This whole time...this whole damn time.

Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly pulled up Frankie’s contact and dialed his number, praying he would answer. But it rang and rang and rang, painstakingly so, before going to voicemail. With a sigh, you ended the call before redialing and listening to the same thing; but this time you left a quick message for him to call you as soon as he got time. Deciding that you didn’t care about how this all looked, you texted him as well.

All you could now was wait - and hope he’d call you back. There was no way he’d just cut you of his life like that again and leave, right? Right? Not again; you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Frankie Morales all over again.

»»————-　♡　————-««

But you didn’t hear back from him that day, or the next day...or the next, despite your efforts. And you were worried sick. It was starting to consume your every thought and you were wondering what to do. He hadn’t come home either, and just hoped that everything was alright.

By the fifth day, you decided enough was enough. You grabbed your purse, left Daisy at your neighbor’s house and came to the conclusion that if you wanted answers you were going to have to work for them. Frankie had told you about his job, and luckily for your sharp memory, you’d memorized where he worked and went off to see if you were able to find out if he had been at work at all.

The shop was small, but seemed friendly enough, although you were sure that you looked about as out of place as they come.

"Hello?" you called out quietly as you listened to the soft humming of a radio in the distance and the quiet news playing on the aging television set. Walking up to the counter, you sighed softly, as you rang the bell after checking to make sure no one was around, "hello?"

You heard a few shuffling sounds accompanied by footsteps as someone came to the front. After a few moments a man, a handsome one that appeared to be about your age, popped in, wiping his hands on an old rag. A look of confusion crossed his features before he offered up a small smile, "sorry about that - a little shorthanded right now. What can I do for you?"

"Umm, hi," you swallowed the lump in your throat at the mention of short handed, "I-I'm kind of here on a personal thing. Do...does Francisco - Frankie Morales work here?"

"Frankie?" he asked as you nodded, "Fish?"

"I-I don't know who that is," you frowned at the odd choice of name, "I just know Frankie. I...I haven't seen him in a few days and wanted to see if you had or if he'd come to work. Maybe I...maybe I have the wrong shop...or something, I don’t know.”

You offered up an apologetic smile before turning to leave, willing yourself not to cry. But before you reached the door, you heard it and it caused you to stop dead in your tracks, "Bee? Are you...Bee?"

"I'm sorry?" you asked as you turned around and cocked your head to the side, regarding him curiously. His smile grew as he realized exactly who you were, "no- no one's called me besides Frankie…"

"You are," he dropped the rag and stepped around the counter, coming towards you before wrapping you up in a hug, "you're Bee! Frankie - we call him Fish, Catfish! He's told us all about you over the years. Holy shit - you’re actually a real person. Here and in the flesh!”

"Oh," you were taken aback for a moment before you hugged him back, a small sigh escaping your lips as you realized this was a human connection to your love. He knew Frankie - the present Frankie, the Frankie that has been taken away from you for so long. You squeezed your eyes shut as you held him tightly. You wondered if this was as cathartic for him as it was for you.

"You look just like he always said," he pulled back and studied you, "man, he's been in love with you for so long. He said he'd finally found you again."

"Yeah," you nodded lightly as you wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. This man could tell you so much about Frankie - you hoped you lived up to whatever tails Frankie had them, "its a long story….but we're neighbors now. And we had a fight a few nights ago and he's been gone and not answering my calls or texts and I'm worried…"

"You know about…" he trailed off as you nodded, feeling a heaviness settle over your heart. You made a small sound as he nodded before giving your shoulder a small squeeze, "he's been having a rough go of things."

"The first two times I saw him since I've moved in next to him he was...high. Not in good shape at all," you confessed, almost relieved that you were able to tell someone else, "I didn't know how big of a problem it was…I tried talking to him about it and we ended up fighting and he left and I haven't seen him since. I’ve been worried sick about him since he left, but I didn’t know where to begin to look so…”

“I’m glad you found me - I’m Santiago - Santi - by the way,” Santi confirmed softly as you nodded, trying to keep the tears from falling, “Frankie’s a good guy, he really is. But he’s struggling...again. I thought things were better too, but it’s obvious that he needs more help. I don’t know what it was that finally got him there, but I’m glad it did...although I have a feeling it’s you.”

“I don’t care what it is,” you admitted softly, “as long as he gets the help and support he needs. I would do anything for him.”

“You really are his girl, huh?” the man got a sappy little grin on his face as you felt a flush rise up but nodded nonetheless.

“I’ve loved him since we were kids...it never changed,” you confessed, “even if he doesn’t want me or love me anymore, I just want him to be happy and healthy.”

“He loves you,” Santi laughed, a loud boisterous thing, “trust me.”

“Do you know where he is? Can you take me to him?” you clutched onto his arm and gave him an almost desperate look, ready to beg him if you needed, “please? I need to know everything.”

“Of course,” he promised as he took your hands in his and squeezed it tightly, “come on. Let me close up shop and we can go.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie sighed as he stared out the window, looking at the rolling hills in the distance. It was dark and gray out, signaling an impending storm, something he normally loved and yet he felt...nothing. Not depressed or empty, but not filled with life either. Just...there. He knew it was most likely the symptoms of withdrawal and finally getting clean - for good - but it was still hard. He missed you - hoped you weren’t okay or panicking too much. Hell, maybe you’d forgotten about him already. Maybe it would have been better if you did…

Either way; it was seeing you again that had sparked his zest for life. All these years and it was still you. But as soon as you’d made your reappearance, it felt like everything made sense again. Like things were just...right. And it had made him question his choices; he wanted to be better, to be the best, for not just himself, but also for you. And even if it was too late to be able to love you again, he wanted to do this for myself - he had to.

“Mr. Morales?” the nurse’s voice caught his ear and he turned slightly to look at her, offering her a small smile, “you have some visitors, if you’d like.”

Visitors? How strange...nobody knew he was here besides Santi, Will, and Benny, and he’d been in somewhat regular contact with him. Maybe it was just a surprise visit from one of them.

“They can come in,” he nodded, reaching for the glass on the window sill to help soothe his parched throat. He hadn’t done much talking today, preferring some solitude instead.

“Hi Frankie,” at the sound of your voice, he turned around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Hovering in the doorway, you gave him a nervous smile, unsure of how to gauge his surprised reaction.

“Hey Fish,” Santi popped up behind you, slowly ushering you into the room as Frankie rose to his full height.

“H-hi,” he stammered, casting a quick glance at Santi before focusing his attention on you. He wasn’t sure if he should be scared of your reaction or if he should run over and swallow you whole in his arms, “you’re both here.”

“Of course man,” Santi laughed lightly, “we’re family - always. Now, you talk to your girl and I’m going to find some coffee.”

He left without another word, leaving the two of you to awkwardly stare at each other. When he didn’t say anything, you loosened up and noticed the glossiness of his eyes. Before you could stop yourself, you rushed over to him and wrapped him up in the tightest hug possible, “Francisco, my love. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Sweet Bee,” he buried his face into the side of your head and just let you hold him, without a word, without a care - reckless abandon. Stroking his back in soothing circles, you let him get all his tears out, only whispering soft reassurances into his ear, “I’m sorry for what happened...for fighting with you.”

“No, no, no,” you pulled back and pulled his face into your hands, giving him a soft smile before wiping away the stray that had cascaded down his cheeks, “please don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. All I care about is you. That you’re okay and safe.”

“I should have told you...”

“Maybe,” you agreed with a small laugh, trying to get him to calm down, “but it’s okay. I would have done anything to find you. Luckily I had enough sense to go to your work and find Santi.”

“He’s...a good man,” he smiled, “we've been through so much...he’s more like my brother.”

“I know,” you could easily tell that there was a strong bond between the two men, “he’s been great...but umm...Frankie - did you tell all your friends about me?”

“Yeah,” a smile - a real, genuine smile - appeared on his face as his singular dimple made its appearance, “I did. Probably from the day I met them...”

“Francisco,” you beamed at him, “all this time...”

“Always,” he answered your unspoken question, “I love you...I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear that right now, or ever, but it’s true and I wanted you to know.”

“I love you,” you repeated softly, “nothing’s ever going to change that. Not even...this. You - we - are going to get through this, Francisco. I promise you.”

“You’re....you’re staying?” he was incredulous as he pulled back and looked at you with a slightly surprised expression, “I can’t expect...I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking,” you reassured with a gentle to his freshly shaven cheek, “I’m telling you. I love you, Francisco Morales. I lost you once and I’m not going to do it again. I’m with you - always.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” he whispered as he kissed the palm of your hand?

“You took care of me the day we met - when I ran into you and fell to the ground,” you reminded him of the fateful afternoon when the two of you had met almost twenty years ago. And to believe back then you had almost been reluctant to meet him all because your companionship was thrust upon the two of you. Looking back, you couldn’t have been more thankful, “I scraped up my palm and you cleaned it up and made sure it all healed. But look…”

You held up your and slowly displayed your right palm, letting him look over it closely. In the heart of your palm a small, almost invisible scar still lingered. If someone hadn’t been paying attention they could have easily missed it - but to you and Frankie it was loud and clear.

“Still there,” he murmured as he traced over it and you nodded, trying to hold back all of your tears now, “apparently I didn’t do the best job…”

“You did,” you promised softly, “it could have been so much worse. This way, I’ll always have a memory of when we met - how we met.”

“I…" Frankie's lip trembled with effort as he did his best not to cry; he hadn't expected to feel this overwhelmed by such a simple thing, "I've missed you so much - I don't know how we found each other again, but I'm so glad we did."

"Me too," tracing over his lip with your thumb before leaning in to press a kiss to them, "having you back already kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life. I would have been married to that asshole by now."

"Bee…" he couldn't help but laugh as your passionate little ramble before pulling you back into his arms. His hold, his touch, was perfect - he was home, "I don't know what I'd do without you. I...I love you so much."

"I know, bub," you ruffled through his dark hair affectionately, "I love you too. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Do you...do you want to talk about it? Just...us. You know I'm not going to judge, my love. I'm not here for that."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie let out a large sigh as he sat down on the couch in his room with you sliding in next to him. Grabbing his large hand, you laced your fingers together as you just let him go on. You weren’t going to interrupt him or anything - this was his time and his story to tell and you were there without judgment.

“Where do I begin…” he mused as you offered up a small shrug.

“Wherever you want, Frankie,” you promised him, “I’m here listening, either way.”

“Okay,” inhaling deeply, he held his breath before letting out a long sigh, “it first started after I’d been in the military for a few years...almost fifteen years, actually. So I guess fairly recently. It wasn’t always a problem like it ended up becoming. At first it wasn’t a big deal. Something to take a little edge of after a mission, or if it all became too much or too little it was always there to help. It never seemed like a big deal at the time, it wasn’t something that I did all the time, but then it became more and more - it was never enough, I was always looking forward to that next hit or that next time. Eventually, slowly and over time it became all consuming and I couldn’t control it. That’s when…”

He paused for a moment, collecting himself and you realized just how hard it must have been for him to talk about all of this. Squeezing his hand as a sign of reassurance, silently letting him know that it was okay. It was okay for him to be so open and vulnerable to you, okay for him to be authentic self, okay for him to be who he was. Frankie gently stroked the back of your hand as he offered you a small nod.

“I...I ended up getting busted while helping with a transport,” he confessed after some moments of tense silence, “they...they didn’t know that I used on top of it all, but I got my pilot’s license suspended because of the bust. After that it was a wake up call - that I had a problem and needed to get my shit together. I was clean after that for a while...I was able to kind of kick it myself but there was always...the urges. Slowly it would happen again from time to time but never like it was used to be; that’s what I’d convinced myself because I could control myself better and it wasn’t on my mind 24/7.”

“You already did so well,” you whispered softly, “you’ve done this much, you’ll be able to get through anything. If I may ask...and stop me if you want - when did it get bad again?”

“After...funny story actually,” he laughed but it was a small, bitter thing, “a little bit after we stumbled into each other. I was so lost to the idea that you were gone forever that when Santi came to me and Benny and Will with a mission I just went. And it went fucking terrible. When we got back...what better way to cope than to turn back to what gave me some relief in the first place? So I did....and well...the rest you already know.”

“My love…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say next. You didn’t want to push him away by making it seem like you were trying to analyze him or pity him. You just wanted him to know that you loved him no matter what, and you would be there for him, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. No one deserves that - I can’t say that I understand exactly how you feel or anything. But I want to try to understand and I want to help you however I can. All you need to do is to tell me how I can do that, okay?”

“Thank you…” he hung his head as he nodded, letting out a few shaky breaths. Reaching over, you pulled him towards you and wrapped him back up in your arms, peppering the side of his head in gentle kisses. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and he held onto you like he was afraid you might vanish into thin air, “I know this can’t be what you expected when we were young or even a few months ago…”

“I don’t care,” you promised, rocking himself, “I told you - none of it matters. The only thing that matters to me is you.”

“Honey Bee,” he buried his face into your neck and you could feel his tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt, “I-I’m...scared. I’m scared I’m not never going to get better and never give you the Frankie you deserve.”

“Honey,” squeezing your eyes shut, you wished you could soak up all of his fears and worries, “I know it’s scary, and there will be some bad days, but there will be so, so many good days. You will get there, I promise you will. You have me every step of the way, however you need. You are my Frankie. You always will be.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you brought his face to yours, “but for now, you need to stay here until you’re ready to come home. And don’t rush it because we’ll always be there for you. We’ll wait. When you come home, Daisy and I will be right there. You are my home, Francisco. You always have been and always will be. Okay?”

��Okay,” there was a hint of a smile on his face as he looked at you like you had hung all the stars and he melted at your words, “okay.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #afterglow #triple frontier

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recklessfiction · 3 years

Text

The Monster in Love

Monstrous May Challenge Day 8

"You know, The Prism has been asking after you all night and here I find you, cowering."

That got Tasha's eyes snapping up into a glare, his hackles now generously raised. He stood up from where he was crouching on the ground, running an anxious hand through already unkempt hair.

"I am not cowering," he hissed, stepping further into the darkness of the room, "And who, might I ask, do I have to thank for informing our most noble host that I am here at all?"

"Oh, please. You act like you don't want it to come looking for you."

"May, I meant to be leaving tomorrow!"

“So then leave tomorrow.”

“You know that The Prism will make it difficult-”

“You mean you haven’t told it?”

May’s voice betrayed his disapproval, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t understand. The moment the topic of Tasha and the train was brought up in The Prism’s presence, it became clingy and absurd, reminding him of his place in the town, declaring that Tasha was integral, important, and desperately needed. And so what could he say to that?

He’d arrived in the town a simple shyster; a snake oil salesman looking for fast cash and a faster getaway. He hadn’t expected to spend almost half a year in and out of the house of a Noble Monstrosity, much less have that same high born grotesquerie start dogging his every step, trying to whisper sweet nothings in his ear each chance it got. It was more than he could handle; the fine clothes, the gifts, the adoring looks that he caught when it thought he wasn’t looking, and most of all, the expectation of more, of continuation and escalation.

He needed to go. He needed to pack as many of the valuables he had received into his suitcase and catch the next train out as far as it would take him. He was callus, he wasn’t something to be loved, he was a bitter memory, a regret, a fraud, a common thief, and he likedit that way.

Except-

“May, is that you? Have you found him?”

Except he found it infuriatingly hard to say no when it came to The Prism.

“Tasha, my darling, how wonderful. I’ve been searching all night for you, you fiend. How marvelous you look.”

Marvelous. It had the cheek to call him marvelous when it looked like that.

Tall in stature, towering really, immense with soft, blue, downy feathers from the waist up, a glorious headpiece fitted around four marble horns. It wore a mask, as all Noble Monstrosities must, gold adorned with pearls and deep blue ribbons, a delicately carved smile directed straight at him. It took a step forward and Tasha suddenly felt the weight of those eyes which peered out at him from behind the mask. Five in all, and each stubbornly fixed on him.

May’s voice cut through his reverie, bringing Tasha back to the situation at hand; the situation he really needed to get out of.

“I found him hiding in here all on his lonesome. Selfish boy, denying The Prism the delight of your company.”

“I’m afraid I agree with May,” The Prism said in its deep, rich voice, borrowed, no doubt, from the monks at the Abbey of Sainted Beast, “I can’t think why you would withdraw here when there is a perfectly splendid ball happening just out there.”

Another step and two of its arms unfolded from beneath its rich cloak, extending out to Tasha.

“I’ve missed you,” its voice now hushed, “You’ve stopped coming as often and when I go to the inn, they always tell me you’ve gone out. My god, Tasha, I had to formally summon you last time just so I could see you. Is something the matter? Has something happened?”

The Prism had taken up his hands in its own, unfurling the rest to settle on his waist, tugging at him just slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, Tasha watched May slip out of the room, shutting the door behind him as he went. Now alone, the two stood, panic flowing steadily through Tasha as The Prism looked on with eyes that burned and wanted.

There’s no way out of it, Tasha thought to himself, and so he straightened, settling his face into an expression of dignified remorse.

“The train is coming tomorrow.”

Even with the mask covering the entirety of what Tasha assumed to be its face, he could see how The Prism deflated, felt how anxiously its hands moved to his face, its claws cutting his cheeks in its rush to hold him.

“Tasha,” its voice was accusatory, as if scolding him for even speaking the words, “No Tasha, you said you would stay. You must stay.”

“I’ve stayed as long as I can,” he argued, jutting his chin out boldly, “I was not meant to be here this long but I’ve stayed each time you’ve asked me to. Now I must go.”

“Why? What must you do out there that you cannot do here?”

Its voice was hard, petulant, and the other arms tightened on him, jewelled and finely painted claws digging into his hips and enfolding Tasha deeper in the embrace of The Prism.

“Work,” he asserted, “I worked before I came to this town and I will work after I have left it.”

The Prism scoffed, its eyes darkening as it fixed him with what he could only imagine was a glare.

“You can work here. You can stay and help me with my research, or continue to develop your tinctures.”

Ah, yes his ‘tinctures.’ With The Prism’s knowledge of medicine, it was a miracle he hadn’t been found out yet. He thanked the powers that be that the Noble Monstrosity was so…eagerly distractible.

“You know I can’t.”

“Then wait for me.”

“…What?”

Slowly and with great care, The Prism rested its forehead against Tasha’s own, the mask cold against his skin and its eyes, ardent and pleading.

“In a few months I will have completed my research. I can leave the manor in May’s care until we return. We will go together.”

Tasha could always tell when The Prism smiled because its eyes would begin to twinkle and its voice would soften, so much so, that he would feel the entire world melt away with only The Prism’s sweet voice remaining.

“I’ve never been anywhere farther than the city. I’m sure there will be something out there that will keep my interest whilst you…work.”

The last word was spoken in the same playful tone The Prism always used when it was flirting with Tasha and, as always, it made his heart skip a beat. A claw moved beneath his eye, over his eyelashes and, as he blinked, it brushed over his eyelid. Gentle, always so gentle.

“Please, Tasha. Stay and wait for me. I shan’t be long.”

A gasp of breath as a large hand came to cover his eyes. The sound of the mask being lifted, the desperate whisperings of shadows, followed by the slow, earnest press of lips against his own. A voice, oh how he lamented the day he first heard that voice, whispering against him.

“Please.”

And he whispered back,

“Alright.”

A laugh; surprised, overjoyed. Another string of kisses, each expressing an enthused gratitude, each more passionate, hungrier, fevered, each kiss lasting longer and longer, now that they had the time.

He would leave at midnight.

His feet left the ground as The Prism spun him in the air, his lips having moved to Tasha’s throat, its hand never leaving his eyes.

He would excuse himself under the pretext of being completely overcome with emotion and race back to his room at the inn.

“My darling,” the words pressed against his skin, “my darling.”

He would go under the cover of night, no one would be out; everyone was here at the ball anyway. He would wait at the station until morning and catch the first one out of town.

The hand moved away from his eyes and Tasha was met with the pleasantly smiling face of The Prism’s mask, perfectly in its place.

By the time anyone noticed his absence, he would be far, far away from the consequences.

“Come with me,” it said, its voice so charmingly conspiratorial that Tasha’s breath caught for a moment, “I have yet to share a dance with you tonight.”

“I’m sorry.”

The Prism paused, its hands tight around his own. Tasha looked up, a smile curling up his lips, bright, wide, and very fake.

“I find myself…rather overcome. I’m afraid I must excuse myself for tonight. I had not expected-”

“Of course, my darling, of course,” The Prism pressed a hand to his cheek and let its forehead fall against his own again, “I shall send for the carriage.”

“No, I would very much like to walk.”

Its eyes softened fondly beneath its mask as it brushed his hair back with another hand.

“Very well, but I shall call on you tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Tasha said through his smile, “In the evening. I have business during the day but shall return promptly.”

Another train didn’t come through for a fortnight.

“Alright, tomorrow evening. It would be simpler, you know, for you to do your business from the manor. We certainly have the room and…I confess I would like you to stay.”

And therein laid the problem.

“A discussion, I think, for another time,” Tasha’s smile settled into something playful and easier to keep up.

The Prism brushed a hair from his face.

“Goodnight, beloved.”

A breath, almost gasped, almost suspicious, swallowed and replaced with a smile.

“Goodbye.”

#monstrousmaychallenge #monster romance #monster #humans are weird #horror #my writing #happy?

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her-world-on-fire · 3 years

Text

"I promise I won’t let you fall.” {Jason Todd x Reader}

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

Word Count: 3, 304

Hi! I just read "it was all yellow" and just got me hooked to ur tumblr! I'm not sure if the requests are open but if their are could u pls do an angst with fluff ending ab Jason × Reader ft. Drivers license? Thanks for the attention ♡♡

Prompts: 20. “i promise i won’t let you fall.” 101. “leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” 118. “you’re the only person i want to wake up to every morning.”

“JASON DON’T,” I stepped forward and he moved to pick up his bag. The tears that had welled in my eyes now began to fall. He had his back toward me. But the crack in his voice told me everything I needed to know. “I’m fine!” He stopped and turned back to me. “You had 3 broken ribs, a collapsed lung and a concussion.”

“It wasn’t you fault.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

“The heat signatures showed that most of the guards are on the 4th floor.” Dick’s voice sounded in my ear. “You need to get in through the south entrance on my signal. The shipment arrives in 30 minutes.” I looked at Jason, he was beginning to get impatient. He hated sitting around, and he was not one to follow direct orders. He paced back and forth on the rooftop. “We can just take them all on.”

“Let’s just wait for the signal. We don’t know what we’re up against.”

“They’re just low level fucking criminals.”

Another few minutes passed. “Fuck it.” Jason leaped from the roof and onto the next building. “Jason!” He ignored Dick’s voice and broke one of the windows. I followed after him. The sound of gunshots immediately alerted everyone inside the building. Glass from the windows crunched under my boots, and the air was heavy with gunpowder. The sound of a loud crack echoed in the warehouse. I followed the trail of bodies. There were six men on the floor, each clinging to life. I could tell by the way their limps were sprawled, they were in a world of pain. I ran down the hallway and the gunshots resumed.

I reached for the first hired gun I saw and went after him. His gun was pointed directly at Jason. I reached up and knocked it out of his hands. He was caught of guard, I slammed my hand against his throat. He choked and I brought his leg down out from under him. He fell with a loud thump and I slammed my fist into his face enuring he would be asleep.

Now a few of the men turned towards me. I took my staff and two men charged towards me. I rushed forward and hit one on the side of his head, he tumbled and I kicked him in his shin. He cried out in pain and fell to the floor. The other lunged for me and I moved out of the way before he could grab me. I looked over at Jason for a second, he was getting overwhelmed. Quickly I took the mans arm and slammed it against my knee earning a loud pop. I lunged to Jason. One of the men had managed to get his arms around him. Another was beating him. I took my staff and slammed it on his arm. In that moment Jason slammed his head back against the man who had been holding him. Then he kicked him as he fell. The man turned towards me angrily as the blood trickled down his arm. He pulled out his gun, I moved under him and slammed his hand into the wall. The gun fell and I kicked it away. His other hand reached form my hair. I kicked him in the crotch and he groaned.

I slammed my fists against his face. I looked around the room, Jason was gone. I ran out of the room and up the stairs. We were on the 4th floor now. “There’s a truck coming in.” I reached Jason and helped him clear the room. “There was C-4 in that truck get out now!”

It all happened in a split second. There was a faint beeping noise. I quickly turned to my left. C-4 was placed on the north wall. Jason was standing right by it. He was too distracted to notice. “Look out!” I ran to him as fast as I could and grabbed his collar. I tossed him outside of the room and took the C-4 and threw it to my right.

The walls began to crumble I tried moving out of the way. I had moved out of the room but the floor was falling underneath me. Jason reached out for me but he was half a second too slow. The last thing I remember was the feeling of falling. Jason’s blood curdling scream filled the room.

I was lucky it wasn’t a lot worse. I didn’t blame him. It had been 3 months and he still couldn’t look at me.“I should’ve waited. I should’ve been paying attention. It should have been me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true! You could’ve died and that would have been on me.” His voice broke. His guilt was eating him alive. If he had just listened, then this would’ve never happened. Dick didn’t let him hear the end of it.

“Let’s just talk about this. Don’t go.” I moved towards him and he stepped back. “I can’t.” The room fell silent. We both looked at each other. My throat was hoarse, I had been trying to get him to stay as soon as he started packing. He didn’t have anything left to say. “I’m sorry.” I rushed forward and embraced him. As gently as he could he put his arms around me. It had been 3 months since he touched me. He was worried he would break me. But I knew this was he way of saying goodbye. “Please.” He pulled back and wiped the tears from my face. His own eyes were bloodshot. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead.

He pulled away and took his bag and his helmet. He grabbed the door handle and opened the door. He paused before walking out and closing it behind him.

--------------------------------

Jason practically fell of the grid. No one knew where he went. He was smart, he covered his track electronically. He had slowly been withdrawing his inheritance. Transferring what he could into burner accounts. It was meticulously planned. Another month went by and I went back to train.

It was hard being around the team. For a long time they treated me as if I were glass. I was going to break at a moments notice. I could see the pity in their eyes. I turned to training as an outlet. I focused all of my time and energy into. I didn’t want to be left alone with my thoughts. The memories of Jason and the accident flooded my head. I kept as busy as possible.

Dick had informed he knew where he was. He had found that the crime on the south side had dropped by 5 percent. In his first week down there he acted like himself. He never crossed the line but the scenes were far from innocent. He was acting on his emotions and releasing his anger. But after just a week, he was controlled. The scenes were getting harder to identify. He started to blend in.

Jason’s anger was something like I had never seen before. It was destructive and explosive. He was getting better, but after the accident something changed. He was regressing. Whatever had been holding him together had snapped.

As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t going to go after him. He needed space. As I got inside my car I turned on the radio. I didn’t want to go back to the apartment. It was hard being in that space. I was so used to sharing the space with him. I drove, not looking for anything specific.

And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

I sighed, being back at the manor had brought back a lot of feelings. Memories of training. Sneaking around the manor. From the moment we met we were inseparable. At first I was annoyed by his cockiness. But once I took him down during training, he turned it down. Overall he was impressed. That later turned into infatuation. We did everything together.

As I drove through the city all I could think of is all the places we went together. None of them would ever feel the same without him.

And all my friends are tired Of hearing how much I miss you, but I kinda feel sorry for them 'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do, yeah Today I drove through the suburbs And pictured I was driving home to you

I wanted more than anything for it all to be a dream. I wanted to wake up and have everything back to the way it was before. I wouldn’t have let him go inside the building. I would give anything to go back and change it all. I would really be there for Jason.

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone I guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

I found myself driving to our usual place. We stumbled inside after patrol, and talked for hours. I looked inside and pictured us sitting there. We were laughing so loud we were drawing attention to ourselves. If anyone ever had a problem with it Jason would laugh even louder.

If Jason hadn’t left large tips then I’m sure we would have been kicked out. But in his eyes they deserved it. They were hard workers and they were good people. He tried to give back as much as he could because he couldn’t growing up on the streets. He used to go into the back and try and save food from the garbage.He thought about the nice owners who would let him take a few things. Some even offered him some work. He remembered all those faces, and he gave back. That’s the kind of person he was.

Red lights, stop signs I still see your face in the white cars, front yards Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh) Sidewalks we crossed I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing Over all the noise God, I'm so blue, know we're through But I still fuckin' love you, babe (ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)

It pained me that it was over but he needed this. He was so angry once he came back. Angry at the joker from taking him from Bruce. Angry at Bruce for letting him get away with it. Angry at the world for letting it happen. For as long as he could remember he needed to fight to survive. It was a long road to even get to where he was now. But he knew that he still had a long way to go. And he couldn’t let anyone else get hurt while he figured it out. He had to start piecing himself back together for his sake, and for everyone around him.

I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone 'Cause you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

We had problems. We were far from perfect, but I don’t want anything else. I spent the rest of the car ride in silence. I decided to get back to the apartment. I couldn’t hide forever. I needed to start living again. It’s what he wanted.

--------------------------------

I turned the key and the door clicked in response. I heard shuffling on the other side. Immediately I reached for my staff. I opened the door, the lights were still off. I moved quietly, as I tried to search for the source. Quietly I closed the door, and moved through the apartment. I noticed a card on the coffee table. I heard a creek. I turned down the hall. I waited for a moment and I heard the footsteps approaching me. Right when they were about to round the corner, I pushed them against the wall. Holding them in place with my staff.

I looked up and dropped the staff. “Jason?” He looked shocked, more so than I was. “I had to see you.” I bit my lip. I was feeling overwhelmed. He was the last person I expected. I worked hard to put myself back together and now I was going to have to do it all over again.

“Are you coming back?”

I was getting mixed signals. The card on the table gave me the impression he was leaving again. It was like he intended to just drop it off and leave. But he stayed until I got back. He was tense. His arms were crossed over his chest, overall he looked very closed off. He wasn't giving me an answer.

I broke the silence.

"I can't do that again. You can't leave and come back, and except me to be okay.” I swallowed, trying to keep my tears from spilling. “I begged you to stay and you just left. I haven't heard from you and now you're back and I don't know how much more I can hang on." Once again the tears welled up in my eyes. I was reliving the moment he decided to leave all over again. Deep down I know why he left. He needed to learn to forgive himself. He needed time to work on himself. But it was hard knowing that he could leave at a moments notice. Even though it hurt him he still did it.

"I'm sorry. I had to go, I couldn't look at you without blaming myself. It was selfish of me to leave but I understand that now." He moved forward and took a deep breath. "I promise I won't let you fall."

And he meant it.

His own eyes were cloudy with tears. " I tried to convince myself that you were better off without me. But I can't do this without you. That month I spent alone made me realize how empty I was without you. You're the only person I want to wake up to every morning."

"But if you decide that you don't want me-" I didn't let him finish before I pressed my lips against his. He responded immediately. We pulled away and he ran his thumb across my cheek. I wrapped my arms around him. I could feel him loosen up. He had been so tense, it felt as if he could finally breathe again.

"Come on, I have something to show you." He pulled away and stretched out his hand. I took it and he opened the door and led me out. We walked to his bike and he handed me my helmet. He got on his bike and started the engine. I got on and wrapped my arms around him "Ready?"

I nodded and he took off. The sun was just beginning to set. Although Gotham wasn't the safest city, it was mesmerizing. I leaned my head against Jason and watched the streets. The streets that had seemed somber were now vibrant. Jason stopped at the red light and turned back to me. I gave him a smile.

We went on for another 5 minutes. "Okay close your eyes."

I closed my eyes and we stopped soon after. Jason turned off the bike and helped me off. He gently took of my helmet and took my arm. He guided me, and I heard a door open. We had entered some building. "Can I open my eyes now?" I asked, growing more curious at time went on. He laughed at my impatience.

"Yes."

I opened my eyes and looked around. It was the Gotham botanical gardens. "This is beautiful." We walked down the pathway and I took in my surroundings. The bright yellow flowers, the beautiful stream leading to the fountain. As I looked around something stuck out to me. There was a lack of people. There must've been one person who opened the door for Jason and I. But I didn't see anyone. "Where is everyone?" I turned to Jason and he smiled. "I may have rented the space for the night."

"Jason this must be a fortune." It was government property, he had to get approval from the mayor himself. "How?"

"Believe it or not but the mayor actually owed me a favor."

We reached the center of the garden. There was a table that had been set up. Jason pulled my chair out for me. Suddenly a workers had appeared. They set the table and the lights were dimmed. As quickly as they appeared they were gone. The table was filled with our favorites. The drinks were from a cafe just near the apartment. The food was from our usual spot after patrols. There were small delicacies from the pastry shop we frequented to satisfy our sweet tooth. "This is really something, Jason. Thank you."

"I'm keeping my promise. Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." I won't ever do it again."

We talked as we finished dinner. It felt like just another day before the accident. After we finished, Jason left a large tip on the table. "I have one more thing to show you."

"Jason you really don't have to do anything else. You've done more than enough." Still, he lead me up the stairs. He opened the door first and let me go up. I walked to the edge of the roof. I looked over the railing. The view was absolutely breath taking. It wasn't like any other rooftop in Gotham. It was quiet up here. The sounds of the city didn't touch this roof.

The wind had picked up, and since the sun had set it was colder than inside. Noticing this Jason put his jacket over my shoulders. He stood behind me and I leaned my head against his shoulder. "I didn't know views like this existed in Gotham."

We just stood admiring the city. Neither of us spoke as we looked at the beautiful sight. We both knew that everything was going to be alright. We were going to come back from everything. This is what it was supposed to feel like.

"Are you ready to go back?" He asked and I nodded. "Just one more thing." I leaned forward and kissed him. This one was soft. He smiled into the kiss. "We've got some catching up to do." He mumbled against my lips. "The night's not over yet."

----------------------------------------------

MASTERLIST

REQUEST HERE

#Jason Todd #Jason Peter Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #Red Hood X y/n #jason todd x you #batman #batfamily #batboys #curran walters #jason todd reader insert #jason todd red hood

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sooshisamurai · 3 years

Text

Buck-Tick Interviews

音楽と人 - April 2010

Interview with Sakurai Atsushi

Text by Higuchi Yasuyuki

Translation: Lola

Sakurai-san, how does this latest single fit in with the rest of Buck-Tick's work?

Since it was meant to be a single from the beginning, Imai told me what the title of the song would be as usual. From there, I could use the range of my imagination but for the band and for myself I would say there was this feeling of wanting to 'break free'. What I mean by that is.....well to shrug off what came before perhaps *smiles*. In that way, I think this single relates to [memento mori].

How did you approach singing 'Dokudanjou Beauty'?

......I approached it first as a vocalist. Of course because I feel it's an Imai song, I'm not really sure where to put the most power unless he tells me in which parts to do so. They're not my words so there are parts I just can't get into.

Just by listening to the words of the song you can tell that you guys have come a long way but I guess that's part of being around as a band for such a long time.

Yes. That's why as a naturally flat vocalist I make a point to have presence when I sing. Since it's better if I participate as the vocalist without straining myself.

That's also part of being in a band.

That's the fun part of doing it with five people. Of course I think everyone has their own opinion of how they'd like to do things and once we began taking that into consideration, it felt like we had always been doing it that way.

Those are the words of a mature musician but it must be hard creating new music in this kind of band. Given that everyone has a different motivation, and even different desires. So how do you deal with that Sakurai-san?

Well I......am going to digress a little here but, no matter how self-conscious I am about sounding flat, of course I don't let it show and by doing that, I end up conflicted with myself *smiles*. So then there are times when I quickly get confused. But in the past, perhaps because I was young, I wasn't bothered by my self-consciousness. But now it's like the older I get, the more self-conscious I am......it's exhausting.

You're tired of being self-conscious.

Because there's never a time when I can think, 'Oh that was good, I did that well'. In those times, only music saves me. Because of that, it's like Imai's song shows me where to go because it redirects my feelings. In other words, it directs me where I want to go and then when my feelings change completely, I think that is what saves me.

So in other words, while you're self-conscious of sounding flat, there's that other part inside of you that actually feels the opposite and lets you be magnificent.

Yes *smiles*. Even if I think I'll do this or that, in the end it's like everything slips away from me and then I feel worthless.

But I mean, perhaps that's what keeps you motivated?

Perhaps you're right. In the end that is part of what drives me in the band....... That's what I try to remind myself of, when I'm being negative.

So this time, the single is paired with one of Hide-san's songs but you wrote the lyrics Sakurai-san. I think these lyrics certainly show your negative way of thinking and your self-consciousness.

*laughs dryly*

I wonder how did the full story of these lyrics take shape?

Since this time I knew the purpose of the song was to be on a single, I thought about that from the beginning as I was writing but at first I thought I would write one thing......but in the end what came out was something that didn't end up in the garbage that I had kept, something I wrote without consciously thinking of a single. Usually I purposefully change how I approach writing when it's a single......so at first I thought it would be one way but then wondered if I would be true to myself if I did it that way. That's nothing new for me but, so I use words that I'm the most convinced of. After when I listened to the song, I found it had a primitive image. The riff is monotonous......and when I say monotonous what I mean by that is, the riff seems to hold one's emotions in check, in that way it functions almost like some religious ceremony wherein you must contain yourself but then without thinking, your feelings end up coming through. At least that's how I can imagine it. In other words, I ended letting out my feelings in the song *smiles*.

Certainly you are unrivalled in this respect. As always I think that's something you cannot escape.

I always......well I've said this before but, of course I can't help the things I like. I've become good at doing the things I like so, if I think about doing it, that's what'll come out right away. Whatever is in my head in the end, is what comes out. Of course if I had thought to make it sound more pop by having the high point of the song in English and with lots of breaks in the rhythm, I would have done that but, this time I thought I would do something different. So I think people who listen to the song will think, "Wow this is a Buck-Tick song, it's very Sakurai Atsushi-like".

You're right.

I think as a band we should keep that image under control to some degree but, for me personally, I can't really help who I am and what I create.

Along those lines, did these lyrics come from Sakurai Atsushi of Buck-Tick or Sakurai Atsushi the individual?

There's no personal connection, no. There was in the past, for me and the band. If it weren't for the band, I couldn't do anything, it's like how could I live without their songs? Moreover, I do realize that being in the band is an escape for me *smiles*, it's not like I hate the darker side of reality. And you know......it lets me pay the bills every month, which is good *smiles*.

*smiles* Well, I hardly think you need worry about the bills Sakurai-san so surely, it cannot be the case that you're trying to escape your daily life?

True......

Perhaps that is why you place your hopes in things like dreams. And yet your escape from reality is to completely submerge yourself in darkness. I would think it must be hard to balance reality and your imagination in that case.

I see what you mean........ Well, in my teens and twenties I felt quite lost, I would say I was reckless even, I didn't see the point in living, didn't understand the meaning of anything so I think I lived rather wildly. Whether it was because of my age or due to my change of environment, I don't know but that's how it was...... and then suddenly out nowhere it was like I understood.

Yes, yes *smiles*.

It really was out of nowhere *smiles*. But that's what happened. But until that point........of course I had a very diluted sense of reality.

I think that's why in part in the past you were so caught up in singing about angels and demons right. Because you had a diluted sense of your actual existence.

Right.

But now Sakurai-san, you sing of hope like in last year's song 'GALAXY' as though you suddenly noticed there is hope in the world, there is merit and meaning in living. But then with this single you buried yourself back in darkness. Why do you think that is?

That's because.......that dark world hasn't disappeared for me at all. Of course, reality hasn't gone away either. Perhaps it's because unfortunately......that sort of dark world clings to me.

But by understanding the reality before you now, do you think you've become conscious of your personal darkness?

Yes. Originally what I liked was the fashion and the style of that kind of world. The only reason I got into Bauhaus was because I thought they were cool. But now......how can I say it, the real world, scares me.

Scares you?

By nature I'm the type of person to play in the realm of daydream and imagination but by doing so I'm also more afraid than most people. Especially recently there's so much about the real world that frightens me to the point where I feel like I'm thinking too much.

Could you be more specific?

......well now I'm afraid of losing what I have. I end up so seized with fear that it's like I can't leave my futon.

Ah, I get it. Like for me, when my child was born I felt that same fear. This world is too violent for an innocent child. But this is the kind of world my child has to live in isn't it.

.......you're a good father you know *smiles*.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha! So I understand why you don't want to leave your futon. So why do you still submerge yourself in the darkness of the world?

Since I'm afraid for reality, it's too much for me to handle in the end. I really can't take what's right in front me. It's like with [memento mori]. If I think of the world in that way then I can get out of bed.......

But in 'Voo Doo' there's a feeling of relief if you put yourself in the song.

Right. When night falls, I get up from my futon and wander. When it's night, it's my time, my world opens. So I'm at ease within that darkness of night. My fears can be swallowed by the dark and in that I find strength.

I see. So the stronger your fear of being unable to escape reality, the more you withdraw into your darkness *smiles*.

Yes. As I said recently, there's a real world even for me that I am overwhelmed by. Therefore I feel ruled by my anxiety. If it seems like my fear will crush me, then I submerge myself completely in the world of darkness and perhaps this happens more so than before.

#buck tick #interview #atsushi sakurai

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its-a-humanriot · 3 years

Text

Common Language, pt. I

(This is the beginning to a bunch of Fallout 3 works I have knocking around my brain. I’ll post bits and pieces here and then post the full work to ao3 once it’s done)

(pt. I) / (pt. II)

---

Charon realises very quickly that he does not understand his new employer very well.

In the first instance, this is very literal.

Not many words were exchanged during her introduction as his new employer and him subsequently blowing Ahzrukhal’s brains all over the walls of the Ninth Circle. It’s not until after they make a very rapid exit and they are out in the quiet of the museum atrium catching their breath that he really pays any attention to her. Not much about his employer’s appearance immediately seems wildly unusual – she looks pretty healthy for a wastelander, if somewhat pale, and probably one of the youngest people to come through Underworld in several years. Her face is grubby with the expected dust and dirt of travel under her mop of short curly brown hair, slightly pink from sunburn across her nose and a clean strip of pallid skin around her eyes from the goggles that now hang around her neck (the look of it reminds him briefly of some small animal from before the war, though he can no longer recall its name). Although they look relatively well maintained, her armour and rifle have clearly been scavenged at least third-hand, and a faded red bandanna is tucked around the collar.

Charon takes all this in with a practiced eye, trying to evaluate what kind of person he is now bound to – as satisfying as it is to know that Ahzrukhal’s head is now spread all over the Ninth Circle, it has come at the cost of knowing his opponent. The girl in front of him does not look wealthy to be spending the number of caps he knows Ahzrukhal would have asked for his contract, nor hardened enough to have carried out whatever unscrupulous task he would have accepted as alternative payment. He can’t quite pinpoint it, but something doesn’t seem right. When she opens her mouth, his instincts are proved right.

“Well, fuck. I came to Underworld to cop a flop and a sling and hang loose for a while, maybe zee out for the night, and buddy up with you. I was not expecting to have to beat feet with a dead body behind us.”

Her accent is like no wastelander he has ever heard, and he doesn’t understand half the things that come out of her mouth. Charon can’t claim to be up to date with young people (as so few of them come through Underworld and most of Ahzrukhal’s associates were people who should absolutely not be allowed anywhere near children) but even among the various communities in the Capitol Wasteland there is usually a fair amount of common ground. This – whatever this is – is something else entirely.

His well-practiced poker face seems to keep his confusion hidden at least up until she turns to him with an uncomfortable smile on her face – she certainly has cleaner teeth than a lot of wastelanders, and not even any missing that he can see – and sticks her hand out in his direction.

“This isn’t how I was expecting to have this go but, uh, I’m Billie. Nice to actually meet you properly, Charon.”

He stares at it. A lot of people would avoid unnecessary physical contact with ghouls, even if they weren’t outright ghoul haters, and certainly none of his previous employers have ever tried to engage in something as cordial as a handshake. When he doesn’t react, she leans in a little sheepishly. “…I think you’re supposed to shake hands when you meet someone new, right?”

His stare moves up to her face. She looks about as confused as he feels. What rock has this kid crawled out from?

“What?” It’s hardly the first thing that he means to say to his new employer now they have time to talk, but this whole interaction is leaving him feeling entirely unfooted. She tilts her head at him and looks even more awkward, her outstretched hand dipping slightly before she withdraws it entirely and starts to comb it through her hair instead.

“Uh…I’m not used to meeting new folks? A couple of people have told me what passes for manners above ground but honestly, I’ve not had so many chances to try it on people who weren’t trying to vent me first.” Her face twists in an embarrassed grimace. “Is it the accent? I’ve been told it’s a little hard to understand. I can try, uh something else,” She drops her hand, brushes some stray curls out of her eyes and clears her throat. She offers her hand again and manages to take him by surprise yet again: saying clearly in an almost perfectly pronounced pre-war Transatlantic accent “Hello Charon, my name is Billie Morgan. Pleased to meet you.”

The sound hits Charon like ice cold lead in his stomach, a noise he hasn’t heard in decades beyond the occasional old holotape. It rings in his ears as fresh as it was then with all of the other memories he’d tried to bury - the cloying surgical smell of the lab in his nose, the claustrophobia of the sim pod – Scanning vitals… Welcome subject: 2875, identifier Charon. Beginning training simulation in 3, 2…

A hand touches his arm and the tension in his body spikes – Charon finds himself staggering backwards into a defensive stance. His hand, still moving on instinct, gets as far as the handle of his combat knife before his conditioning kicks in with a short shock of pain – the subject cannot harm the employer – and the opposing reactions form a strained stalemate and force him to a standstill, buzzing with adrenaline, as his presence of mind returns. His employer is now a few feet away, her brown eyes wide as she raises her hands.

“Woah, okay. Won’t do that one again. Sorry.” The artificial enunciation is gone and her original accent has returned, but she is speaking more slowly and clearly than before. He can’t tell if she’s just doing it to try and pacify him or if she is consciously trying to make herself easier to understand. Now that he has the frame of reference for it her natural inflection definitely has something pre-war about it, but it’s hard to pinpoint. “Easy there, big guy. I’ve got no scrap with you and I’m not gonna hurt you. Okay?”

Charon has at least a full foot of height on this kid, and while she looks healthy she does not look strong – the idea that she would be able to hurt him in a close quarters fight is almost laughable. Slowly, he forces himself to let go of the knife handle. The tension in his shoulders stays where it is.

“I am unable to harm my employer. Physical violence on your part invalidates our contract.” The default line gives him something to fall back on for a moment while he straightens back up to his resting position.

“That’s…something.” She doesn’t look reassured, but she drops her hands. “So we’re shiny? Cause you looked real ready to stab me for a second there.”

“I am unable to harm my employer.”

“…Right.” She appears to wait a moment for clarification that does not come before continuing. “So about your contract – it’s kinda hard to read and I didn’t really get the full shakedown before you greased Ahzrukhal so I don’t know what your rates are. I’m a little low on caps at the moment but I can pay you some upfront and then I can earn a bunch back from whatever scavving we do in the next few days to get you the rest of your cut, then we can work out an arrangement. Sound okay to you?”

“I do not require payment.”

“So what, I keep you watered and fed and breathing and we’re square? Seems like a pretty cheap deal to me.”

“I do not require protection and you are not required to provide for me, though several previous employers have chosen to do so.”

“Wait.” Her brow creases. “What does the contract say?”

“The holder of my contract is my employer.” The words come readily to his tongue after many decades of repeating them. “My employer has my services in combat and in any other duties as they see fit and I am honour bound to do as they command for as long as they hold the contract. The contract prevents me from harming my employer while I am in their service. Physical violence by the employer against me invalidates the contract.”

She stares at him hard for a long moment before she speaks again with horror in her voice.

“You’re a slave?”

“I belong to no one.” The response is automatic, the only protest he is able to make. The words taste sour in his mouth.

“You’ve just told me that you don’t require payment of any kind and that you have to do what I say. If that’s not being a slave, I don’t know what is.” She turns away and pulls on her curls for a moment while she paces before turning back to him, her face stormy. “If I’d know that skeezer was a slave owner on top of everything, I might’ve taken a pop at him myself before you ventilated his face. Fuck.” Her eyes widen again. “I bought you from him.”

“If you find the terms of my contract objectionable, you may pass it on to another.”

“I object to you being bound to the contract. Passing it over to someone else doesn’t fix that.” Pulling a face, she pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, then pulls his contract out of her pocket. She looks over the worn paper for a moment, then a takes a single step closer to him and thrusts it in his direction. “Here.”

The ebbing tide of the adrenaline rush in his veins suddenly leaves all at once, and he is left staring at his employer’s hand again. There must a misunderstanding here. Again.

“You wish me to…hold the contract for you?”

She rolls her lips together before making deliberate eye contact with him.

“I want you to have it. Permanently, free of charge. The contract belongs to you - no more employers to boss you around.” Turning her eyes skyward for a moment, she takes a deep breath. “I’m hoping that greasing former employers of yours isn’t like a tradition or something, cause I kinda like being alive out here in the fresh air despite everything. And I have someone I really, really need to find.”

He stares at her for a long moment, stupefied. She stares back, with an expression that is perhaps supposed to be comforting despite the fact that her hand is shaking slightly. After the events at the Ninth Circle, she doesn’t have much reason to suspect that anything else will happen apart from her apart from the inside of her skull being spread all over the atrium.

“I cannot accept.”

At the sound of his voice she seems a little calmer, and gives him a warmer smile.

“Sure you can. No charge, no nothing, just like I s-”

“You misunderstand. I am physically not able to accept.”

“What?” The look of confusion is back.

“I am not able to hold my own contract. It is stated clearly in the contract terms.”

“You didn’t say that thirty seconds ago!”

“The contract terms are long. I paraphrased.”

“You paraphrased.” With a furrowed brow she pinches the bridge of her nose again with the hand holding the contract dropping to her hip, though her mouth pulls up at the corner – whether it’s from amusement or concealed frustration, he’s not sure. She takes in a breath, then drops her hand. “Right. Okay. And if I destroy the contract?”

“I am compelled to stop you from doing so, through any means necessary.”

“Even if you harm me? I thought you said you couldn’t do that.”

“Preservation of the contract takes priority over the life of my employer, though I must also take all possible actions to preserve your life.” Comforting people is not a talent Charon considers to be in his skill set. From the look on his employer’s face, he evaluates that this is still true.

“There must be a section in the contract for how it ends though, right? Surely no contract is gonna be able to hold you forever.” The naivety of the comment grates on his nerves more than he expects. Maybe it’s the aftermath of the adrenaline rush and the bewilderingly abrupt turn that this already baffling interaction has taken, but Charon’s response come out with more of a bite than he means it to.

“It’s not that simple, smoothskin.”

“But you don’t want to be bound by it, right?” Seemingly undeterred by the epithet or the warning in his tone, she continues earnestly. “If we just-”

“I said -” His voice is sharper than he would ever dared let it be speaking back to Ahzrukhal, louder than he has spoken in so very long, and he wrests control of himself back too late – his voice echoes back to him from the polished granite walls so that it rebukes him as much as it does the kid in front of him. Her eyes are wide, shoulders bunched up to her chin level, and he realises that he has unconsciously drawn up to his full height. The echo hangs in the air for a moment, and when it dies his words are back to their normal volume, even if the tone is strained: “ – it is not that simple.”

The moment continues to stretch out thin and the young woman doesn’t move or answer – just keeps staring at him. The silence leaves him feeling as unbalanced as the conversation did - worse now that he feels exposed in the wake of his outburst. Charon takes a rattly breath and fills his ravaged lungs to their full extent as he winds himself back under control – shoulders down, arms by his sides, he reverts to his typical guarding stance. When he speaks again, it in the direction of the young woman’s clenched hand rather than to her face

“For good or ill,” Charon says towards the faded scrap of parchment “I am in your service.”

#fallout 3 #fo3 #charon fo3 #lone wanderer #oc: billie morgan/hundred dollar bills (lone wanderer)#very excited to start getting this out there #nom writes stuff #common language

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host-club-hq · 3 years

Text

Call of the Scar pt. 1

➼ pairing: harry potter x reader

➼ genre: sfw, fluffy, fantasy

➼ word-count: 3.4k

➼ summary: Harry Potter and Y/N Weasley embark on their great journey together in their fourth year at Hogwarts. What does this unsuspecting year hold for them this time?

➼ part 1 of many :)

➼ want to request? do it here. let me know what i can write for you :)

➼ talk to the characters!

Frank Bryce sets a kettle on the stove and- with a shaky hand- adjusts the flame. He leans forward, squinting to get the fire right, and the window beyond his is revealed. Something flickers. Softly. Then again. Frank turns.

Atop the hill, light dances in one of the windows of the manor.

CLANG!

Frank emerges from the cottage, walking stick in hand. He limps into the yard and approaches a door almost completely covered in ivy. He fits a rusty key into the lock

The knob squeals dryly. The walking stick pierces the shadows, then Frank himself enters. His nostrils flare against the sour air. He cocks an ear. Frank's shadow spreads darkly on the landing. Above a small table is an old calendar, freckled with Mildew. August 1943

Frank reaches the top and stops. His breath drifts like smoke.

At the end of the hallway, a door stands ajar, casting sliver of light across the dusty floor. Frank edges closer and sees a narrow slice of the room beyond. A feeble fire flickers in the grate. From within: voice.

"But where here, my Lord? It seems so... inhospitable.

"How fastidious you've become, Wormtail. As I recall, only recently you called the nearest gutterpipe home. Could it be that the task of nursing me has become wearisome for you?"

"No, my Lord! I only meant-"

"I have my reasons for coming here. Thirteen years of reasons."

"Perhaps if we ere to do it without the boy..."

"No! The boy is everything!"

Just then, the tip of Frank's walking stick vibrates against the floorboard. He eyes it curiously, then- in mute horror- watches a giant snake emerge from the shadows behind him. As it skims past his shoes and into the room, an eerie hiss greets its arrival.

"Nagini has interesting news, Wormtail. According to her, there is an old Muggle standing just outside this room."

The door flings wide, revealing a short balding man- Wormtail.

"Where are your manners, Wormtail? Step aside so I can give our guest a proper greeting..."

Slowly, Wormtail withdraws. Frank's eyes dilate. A flash of green light sears the walls. The walking stick clatters to the floor, handle charred black, weeping smoke. A brittle whistling rises from the shadows of the empty Gardener's Cottage, a tea kettle squealing madly, rising like a scream on the night sky.

Harry Potter sits bolt upright, a gasp in his throat. He winces and presses his palm to the scar on his forehead. Across the room, Ron lies sleeping.

"Having a bit of a lie-in, are we?" A smug voice comes.

Harry spins, seeing you, his closest girl friend, grinning from beside his bed.

"Y/N. When'd you get back?" Harry breathes heavily. You had gone for a morning walk- as you usually do when sleep eludes you.

"Just now. You?" you’re referring as to when he arrived at your family’s burrow.

"Last night." Harry begins to sit up.

"Must have missed you. Though, how could I? With your clumsy arse." you ruffle his hair and Harry groans.

"Says you." Harry bites back playfully. You grin.

Hermione comes stalking in loudly and Ron wakes. "Bloody hell!" Ron bolts up and tugs the blanket over his chest.

"Oh, honestly. Come on. Get yourself dressed or we'll miss the whole thing." Hermione claps at Ron.

You watch as she leaves, then look at Harry. The two of you stare at each other before you whack him upside the head.

"Blimey, Y/N! What was that for?"

"I dunno, maybe I just wanted to hit your dumb ass." you walk out.

Harry rubs the back of his scalp before turning to Ron, who was still on the verge of sleep.

"What are you looking at me for?" Ron grumbles.

"She's your sister. I wonder where she gets it from." Harry throws his feet over the bed.

"Not bloody likely... more like all that time she spends with Hermione. God awful, the pair of them."

"Don't be dramatic, Ron." Harry shoves him slightly as he gets dressed.

A string of sleepy silhouettes- Fred, George, Harry, Ron, you, and Hermione- trail a huffing Arthur Weasley. Fred has a battered pair of omnioculars slung over his neck.

"Where is it exactly, where we're going?" Harry turns to you.

"Dunno. Say, Dad. Where're we going?" you holler forward.

"Haven't the foggiest. Keep up!" Arthur replies. Harry looks at you expectantly.

"Why are you looking at me like I know where we're going?" you raise an eyebrow.

"Why don't you know where we're going?" Harry teases back.

"Because I've never been to the bloody thing. Merlin, Harry, sometimes you're so daft." you sigh, teasingly, again. Harry eyes her curiously. Daft? Yeah, right.

A ruddy faced wizard appears atop the crest ahead.

"Arthur! It's about time, son!" The man shouts in greeting.

"Sorry, Amos. 'Fraid we got a bit of a sleepy start. This is Amos Diggory, everyone. Works with me at the ministry. And this strapping young lad must be Cedric, am I right?" Arthur guesses.

An extremely handsome 17-year old boy shakes hands with Mr. Weasley, whom he towers over.

"Sir." Cedric confirms.

"Bloody hell." you sigh. Harry looks to you.

"What? You think he's attractive?" Harry raises an eyebrow.

"How could I not? Look at him." you grin widely. Harry pouts.

"Don't be a baby, you're still adorable." you pinch his cheek and he yelps.

"Bugger off." He swats your hand away.

"Merlin's beard! You're Harry Potter, aren't you? Ced's talked about you, of course. About playing Quidditch against you last year. I told him- Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will: You beat Harry Potter!" Amos grins. Lorelei frowns and steps beside Harry.

"Harry fell of his broom, Dad. I told you, it was an accident-"

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you? Best man won. I'm sure Harry'd say the same." Amos grins. Harry frowns and you take his hand in yours. As much as you tease each other, you both know how much you care for each other.

"We'll see about that this year, won't we?" you challenge with a subtle smirk. Amos's eyebrows furrow before Arthur interjects before his daughter escalates.

"Well, shall we? We don't want to be late." Arthur clears his throat, as he should.

"Hm? Oh, right. It's over there." Amos points.

Harry cranes his neck. Lying in the short grass is an old boot. Each person places a finger to the book, arms extended like spokes to a wheel. Harry leans to you and whispers.

"Can you tell me why we're all standing here pressing our fingers to this manky old boot?" Harry grimaces.

"It isn't just any manky old boot, mate." Fred interjects.

"It's a Portkey." you finish.

"A Portkey? What's a-"

SWOOSH! The hill lurches then tilts. The sky begins to spin. A howling wind rises and the sky spins faster and faster and faster still... and becoming a blur... until...

... Harry slams hard onto his feet and- like the others beside him- topples onto his back. Above him, the sky reels dizzily, like a carousel, spinning slowly to a halt as Arthur, Amos, and Cedric cycle into view, windswept but upright.

"That'll clear your sinuses, eh!" Arthur exclaims.

"And I thought I hated Floo Powder." Harry groans. A hand comes into his view and he trails his eyes up the arm that connects to you.

"Come on, then. Up you go." He takes your hand and helps himself to his feet.

"Floo Powder is still my least favorite. Getting covered in soot just to land in a ruddy fireplace." you grimace as you recall your first Floo Powder experience.

Harry looks past you to the field beyond. Thousands of tents stretch to the edge of a steep cliff, to the deep bowl of a stadium.

"This reminds me of just how many witches and wizards there are sometimes." you appear next to Harry, your knuckles tightening around the straps of your backpack as if you were anxious. Or, you could be excited- Harry can't tell.

"That's an interesting way to look at it." Harry acknowledges you with the tilt of his head, nudging you.

"Keep up, we don't want to be left behind." He starts off first, trusting you’ll follow. And you do.

Harry glances about in fascination as he and the others trudge through the sea of tents. Exotic accents dance upon the air, every nationality in evidence.

"Well, here we are!" Arthur pulls aside the flap of a small tent. A very small tent. Harry watches curiously as the others pass through.

"How in Merlin's name are we all meant to fit in that?" Harry gestures lazily to the tent in disappointment. You peer in from his point of view and shrug.

"Dad's got all sorts of tricks up his sleeve- just you watch." you inhale deeply and disappear inside the tent. Harry draws in the same sort of breath and ducks inside himself.

Harry looks around and smiles- he's standing in what's equivalent to a 3-bedroom flat. "I love magic." He grins as she sloppily drops his bag on the floor.

"I'll take that. You're welcome." you sling Harry's and your bag own over your shoulders. Harry rolls his eyes and follows you at your heal.

"I could've done that myself." Harry says matter-of-factly.

"You wouldn't owe me that way, would you?" you raise an eyebrow at Harry. You know Harry can't raise a single eyebrow and you take every chance that you can get to tease him with your ability.

"Ah, I knew there was a catch." Harry grins goofily as you place his rucksack on one of the beds on the boys' side of the tent. You turn on your heal to place your own where you and Hermione will be sleeping.

"We're separated?" Harry blurts unknowingly. The color red creeps onto the apples of his cheeks as you turn at his query.

"Yes... why do you ask?" you tilt your head as you turn your body to face him. Harry shrugs nonchalantly.

"Harry..." you gently takes his hand in yours, causing Harry to look down at you with sparkling eyes.

"I'm sure you'll be alright for a night or two. What do you do at home when I'm not there, hm?" your thumbs stroke the back of his hand as you look up to meet his eyes.

Harry learned that you were quite skilled at helping him through his nightmares and you were more than happy to lend your skill. Often when you were younger, you helped Ron through rough nights of nightmares after he'd eaten too much for dinner, or too much for dessert. You quickly learned that it was best to not wake him, for he could reel all too quickly back into reality and startle himself. You would bring the blankets back up over his chest to restrain the thrashing, stroke his cheek to maintain the mumbling, and whisper positive affirmations into his ear to send the nightmares into the abyss- replacing it with a nice, pleasant dream. As soon as you saw the smile on Ron's face, you’d known you’d done your job, and would quietly slip out of the room back to the welcoming warmth of your own bed. The nightmares often only came once a night. You wouldn't have to go back after that.

All of the same techniques seem to work in calming Harry from his own nightmares. Although, you find it best to embrace him in his sleep to restrain thrashing, as the blankets can do next to nothing to restrain him.

"Dunno." Harry bites the inside of his cheek and breaks eye contact. Your hand moves from his hand to his shoulder and you smile brightly.

"If you really do need me, come and get me, yeah?" you pat his shoulder thrice and turn on your heal to the girls' side of the tent. Harry's eyes follow you warily as you walk and he sighs shortly.

Ron claps Harry on his back, startling him as he spins around.

"Don't worry too much, mate. She's a light sleeper. If she hears you, she'll wake and be at your side before you know it." Ron starts to unpack his rucksack and Harry nods.

"Yeah... yeah, no, I'll be fine." Harry forces a smile, which Ron returns.

Harry and the others climb to their seats. Flags of all nations ring the stadium and vendors apparate here and there among the crowd, selling their wares.

"Get your Quidditch World Cup programs! Only five Sickles!"

Fancy gold handwriting races repeatedly across a giant blackboard: Gladrags Wizardwear- London, Paris, Hogsmead...

"There's the Peruvian Minister for Tourism. And that man there's the African Head of Magical Games and Sports. And- oh lord- there's Ali Bashir. He's been truing to import flying carpets for years. I keep telling him they'll never replace brooms, but he sees a niche market for a family vehicle..."

"Blimey, Dad. How far up are we?" Ron marvels, ignoring his father's rambling about their surroundings.

"Well, if it rains, you'll be the first to know."

The voice is Lucius Malfoy descending the stairs with Draco. Arthur, tight as a drum, only glares.

"Father and I are in the Minister's box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself." Draco boasts with a smug smirk.

"Oh, bugger off-" you begin.

"Don't boast, Draco." Lucius jabs his walking cane into Draco's chest. Draco grunts and places his hand over where he was jabbed, looking at his father incredulously.

You look to Harry with disbelief.

"Well, that's a first-"

"There's no need with these people." Lucius finishes.

"Ah." you cut yourself off with a disappointed sigh. Harry chuckles and nudges you. You smile.

Malfoy's eyes trail nastily over you and Hermione, landing on Harry.

"Mr. Potter."

As he passes, Harry eyes the walking stick in Lucius Malfoy's grip. A silver serpent encircles his ring finger, inlaid with emerald chips for eyes.

Harry and the others have settled into the upmost row, where the wind whips coldly. As a fleet of broomsticks jet into view, a roar rises in the crowd.

"It's the Irish! There's Troy!" Fred exclaims excitedly.

"And Mullet!"

"And here comes Moran!"

Before Fred can finish, a fleet of dark-clad riders soar over the opposite rim of the stadium. The crowd roars again.

"I don't see what all the fuss is about." Although your cheeks are smeared in green, (curtesy of your older brothers and Ron) your interest in professional Quidditch have never exceeded your brothers' of course. You do find a small interest in the magic of brooms, but the sport itself has never perked your interest.

"Here come the Bulgarians!" George points as he leans over the railing.

"Hm. Who's that?" you squint your eyes at one particularly young player.

"That, sis, is the best Seeker in the world." George smirks with a smug nudge to your side. You swat him.

"He flies rather well, doesn't he?" Hermione acknowledges. The boys exchange amused glances.

"You could say that." Fred stifles his laughter as George nudges him.

Fred lifts his Omnioculars to his eyes and spins a dial. He dials Krum in closer, then runs the image forwards and backwards.

"What's his name?" you ask as you place your hands on the railing.

On cue, thousands of fans on the opposite side of the stadium flip large cards bearing the face of the surly looking boy with thick eyebrows. Each one is emblazoned with his name: KRUM.

"Krum?" Hermione guesses.

"Krum." Harry, Ron, Fred, and George assure in unison.

As the boys look up in admiration, Krum gets past the vast mosaic of his likeness with a nary glance, flying with such breathtaking skill that Harry's jaw fairly falls open. You lean over and press your index finger to his chin, effectively shutting his mouth.

"You'll catch flies." you smirk as Harry swats your hand from his face.

"Lay off." he grumbles.

In the ministry box, Cornelius Fudge rises as Lucius Malfoy and Draco take their seats nearby.

"Good evening! As Minister for Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup! Let the match begin!"

A ball of light busts from Fudge's wand. Harry watches Viktor Krum rocket upward, the crowd roaring as he rises into the glittering night sky, the stadium growing smaller, a glimmering disc of light.

Harry and the others lie about, unable to sleep as they excitedly re-live the match.

"Such a big fuss over a sport. All he did was catch a ball." you grumble as you flip to another page of you book from where you lie on your bed, shoes tossed lazily about on the floor next to you as you rhythmically tap your sock-clad feet.

"An incredibly fast ball that's near impossible to spot!" Harry drapes an Irish flag over your lounging figure and you growl, tearing the flag off in the split second after it made contact with your body.

"You're infuriating." you wad up the flag best you can and chuck it towards Harry violently, who catches it with ease.

"Thank you." Harry smiles cheekily.

"Brilliant Krum, wasn't he? Did you see him put Lynch into the ground with the Wronski Feint? It was positively brutal." Ron rambles on.

"I think you're in love, Ron." you giggle from where you sits, eyes never leaving the spot on your page.

"Quiet, you." Ron bites back.

Just then, a chant of voices rise like a lion's roar beyond the tent. Fred grins.

"Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on." Fred ambles confidently towards the flap of the tent before Arthur bursts in urgently and looks around frantically.

"It's not the Irish."

The others turn to see Arthur standing by the flap peering out. Something in his voice causes their smiles to wither.

"Get yourselves dressed." Arthur orderes hurriedly. Once he notices the hesitation in everyone else, he barks another other. "Now!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and you scramble out of the tent and stare with disbelief at the hellish tableaux before you. All around you, people run in terror, trampling fires and kicking up sparks. Then you see why:

A teeming clot of black-robed wizards, faces concealed behind hideous masks, are marching across the campsite, laughing drunkenly. Some clutch torches while others point their wands skyward, where four people tumble eerily high above.

"Who are those people? In the air?" your hand shakes as you gesture to the bodies above.

"Muggles." Arthur answers solemnly. You gulps hard and divert your attention.

"And the ones on the ground?"

"Death Eaters." Hermione answers in the same fashion.

Harry looks puzzled by this, but as Arthur draws his wand, Harry does the same without question.

"No." you grab his wrist and push his arm back to his side.

"Get back to the Portkey, all of you. And stick together. Fred, George, you're responsible for Y/N. Y/N, you listen to your brothers." Arthur insists firmly as his eyes scan over the group. You shift uncomfortably and open your mouth to reply when a scream cuts you off from a passing civilian. The scream set everyone on edge and Arthur takes his tone up a notch.

"Y/N! Did you hear me?!" he scolds intensely. You blink, startled by your father's fierce expression, then nod slowly and surely. Arthur dashes off.

Fred and George glance at each other and nod. They gently shove you towards Harry and you grunt, spinning around to face them. "Dad said to-"

"We know what Dad said. You're better off looking after Harry and him after you." Fred smiles slightly.

"Yeah, and with your clumsy ass and your looking-for-trouble attitude, you balance each other out." George finishes curtly.

"Stay safe!" They disappear into the frantic crowd.

Harry is the first to move, reaching back and swiping your hand from your side and holds it close to him. "Come on." he beckons, pulling you along through the chaos.

They streak past blazing tents. You feel your hand become less and less tightly gripped in Harry's fingers before you find it slipping away. Lost in the mob, you falls back. Fred and George flash briefly in the crowd, then vanish. Hermione turns, frantic eyes finding Harry.

"Y-Y/N was with you- where is she?" Hermione's frantic eyes search the panicking crowd. She sees no glimpse of you.

"Where is my sister?" Ron steps towards Harry and gazes at him accusingly. Harry looks back and realizes that his hand is in fact empty. He takes immediate action.

Harry dashes on, buffeted back and forth by the raging crowd. He stumbles, falls, struggles to rise, and is trampled again. Bootheels punish the earth all around him. One strikes his temple hard and he collapses. He sees you, frantic, before his vision escapes him.

#Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter x reader #harry x reader #harry potter fluff #harry potter series #harry potter movies #hogwarts #hermione #Ron Weasley #hermione granger #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley #harry potter smut #harry potter angst #Magic #wizard #witches

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loving-all-for-loki · 3 years

Text

Voiceless Love Chapter 8: Sweet Release

(Loki’s Route)

Loki x reader

Word count: 2712

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying @zizzlekwum @daddysfavoritesexkitten @buckylokisimp @lokiyoulittle @magicalpieex

A/N: So there is not a lot of reader in this chapter for some good reason. We're gonna focus on Loki for this and then the next chapter, the reader will be back more later. Also, for those picking this route over Bucky’s, this one will be a bit longer and more detailed. Much love!

Loki wakes up in his dungeon cell to the sound of metal sliding against metal. His food tray sits in front of the door as the sound of somebody walking away disappears. He crawls over to the food to devour it. Although he may be home, he doesn’t feel like it. The food is disgusting and there’s no sight of the lovely Asgard anywhere. Nothing feels the same.

Nothing has felt the same since he got back. You weren’t there to talk about books with him, play chess, or cuddle. He didn’t have your warm body to hold at night to keep him from being cold. Your voice didn’t wake him up every morning and your hands don’t brush his hair anymore. He finds himself dirty and matted, no one taking care of him or even caring to help him take care of himself. The pile of dirt in the corner of his cell is his only friend/company.

Loki has lost track of time, not sure whether it’s been months or weeks since he’s been gone. From Thor’s words, he knows you’re handling his absence as well as he’s handling yours. You’ve been hiding in your room the whole time, refusing to leave or talk to anyone else. He’s glad they’re trying to talk to you, but he’s nervous about what. He knows they don’t like him, they disapprove of their relationship and are probably telling her out of loving him. Ignoring the terrible thoughts, he’s distracted by the door opening.

Thor stands in front of the doorway in his suit. He looks down at his brother. Loki looks frail, tired, weak. His hair is a mess and his clothes couldn’t be more dirty. There are bags underneath his eyes that are bloodshot from crying. His skin is pale, but his blue shows through.

“Brother, you look-”

“Disgusting? Wretched? Thank you.”

“I was going to say handsome, but those words are more accurate. How are you?”

“Take a look at me and ask that again.”

“Right, well, I’m working hard on getting you out of here.”

“Oh, are you? How is that going?” “Well, it’s taking some time. Father says you still have a couple of months in here still.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Three months?”

Loki rolls his eyes, shaking his head and looking away. Three months. Three months since he’s seen you, held you, kissed you.

“How is she?” he asks.

“Y/N?”

“Of course, you idiot.”

“She’s doing well.”

“Is she?” “Do you want the honest truth?”

Loki looks at Thor in the eyes. He can see pain and pity. Something is wrong with you and he doesn’t think Loki can take it. He wants to protect him.

“Yes.”

“She’s not doing well. She stayed in her room for the whole time. She hardly eats, hardly sleeps. No one’s heard from her. Bucky tries to speak to her, but she ignores him a lot, until just recently. He took her to the hospital to get looked over. She’s weak. She’s tired.”

Loki's eyes swell up with tears when hearing about you. You miss him as much as he misses you and are taking it the same way. She’s stroking herself. There’s little anger stirring in him at the sound of Bucy talking to you. He’s sure he’s taking care of her, getting closer. His jealousy gets the better of him as he punches the wall behind him.

“Why him? Why out of anyone who could help her, it has to be him?”

“We all know his alliance to her, brother.”

“Yes, but you could be that one and when he goes, you tell him you have it under control.”

“Are you really yelling at me for not helping her when I’m helping you? I’m trying to get your freedom!”

“That’s not going so well, is it!” Loki yells back.

The tension is thick between the brothers, they’re eyes not unlocking. Loki looks furious at Thor who’s standing with his chest out and teeth gritting.

“If you weren’t so frail right now, I would want to strangle you.”

“Oh, please do. End the misery I’m in. You’d be doing me a favor.”

Thor knows those words are too true. He knows his brother and when he misses something, he misses it. It’s like a drug and he’s going through withdrawal. Attention. Power. The tesseract. Now you. It takes over everything in him and he can’t think of anything else.

“Brother, I promise you I will get you out of here. No matter what it takes. Not just for you, but also Y/N.”

“Even if it involves going against Father and being banished from Asgard until he dies?”

“Yes.”

Loki knows his brother’s alliance and loyalty to their father, and he knows his words are false. There’s no way he’d go against Odin’s power especially with the whole army of Asgard behind the All-Father.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Honestly, a bucket of water and soap? I feel disgusting.”

Thor drops his head and chuckles, pointing at Loki. “I’ve always loved your humor.”

Thor leaves the cell and shuts the door. Loki is left once again in his own darkness and mind.

“That wasn’t a joke.” he mutters.

Thor wanders the hall of the castle. Asgardian women pass by, giggling and whispering to themselves as they walk by Thor. He watches them as he walks past before redirecting himself back to the plan. He walks straight to the throne room where Odin is sitting and talking to his advisors.

“Ah, hello, son,” Odin welcomes, “What did I do to have your presence?”

“Lock Loki up. When will he be set free?” “Well, I haven’t really thought about that. Maybe in two years time, I haven’t decided.”

“You haven’t decided? Your own son sits and rots in that cell, being punished for something he didn’t do on this planet, and you haven’t decided his sentence length?”

“Do not criticize me, son. I will decide when it’s time. He’s hardly served what is fair, yet, so it is far from my mind. I have a whole kingdom to rule over. You’ll understand one day when you take the throne.”

“Yes, I will understand. And I will understand when someone is locked away for years, rotting away when he doesn’t need to be. He was getting punished by Midgard. Why take him away?”

“Loki thinks they are lowly. He won’t learn a lesson being ‘punished’ by someone lower than him. He need to be taught by someone in authority, someone he respects.”

“You’re a fool if you think he respects you.”

“Do you forget who you are talking to?” Odin yells, standing up.

“No, I know exactly who I am talking to. The King who doesn’t have enough time or care to worry over his son who is dying in a cell.”

“If he is dying, we’d know. He’d be creating chaos for attention.”

“So doesn’t it worry you that he’s not doing anything?”

There’s thick silence in the room, hanging off of Thor’s words. Odin had never considered how odd it is for the god of mischief to be so quiet while angry and contained. It wasn’t easy getting him in there even though Heimdall had brought him with ease. Loki had fought to not been put it in that cage and now that he is, he’s oddly quiet.

“Thor, I know how you care deeply for your brother, but there are things you won’t understand,” Odin says, ignoring the worrying words that linger in the air.

“Father, I am sure you are right, but Loki is not a negotiable term.”

“You are right. He is not, which is why you coming to be about him seems irrelevant. Nothing you say will change my thoughts as of this moment on.”

“Please, I beg of you to reconsider yourself and think about it for-”

“Are you daring to question my decisions? I am not to be-”

“I dare to question it all when it comes to Loki’s freedom.”

There’s a crack of thunder heard from the distance. Odin’s eyes snap up to meet his sons, seeing them glow blue under the light. The rage builds inside of the god as he stands there, chest out and fists clenched.

“I’ve never seen you so worked up over Loki before. There is more to this, isn’t there?” “It’s incredible to see you finally stop thinking about yourself for once.”

“Why is it so important to you?” “Because I am not seeking Loki’s freedom just for myself or him. There is someone on Midgard in need of his presence.”

“Are you telling me there’s a Midgardian actually wanting him back?”

“You may be the All-Father, but you are not the All-Knowing, Father. There is a human who desires Loki in ways no one else would understand.”

“A Midgardian in love with Loki. Quite interesting.”

“It is, indeed, and I promised her I would not stop fighting for Loki’s release. I will do this for her.”

“She made quite the impression, then? And how does Loki feel about this inferior being?”

“Loki would argue with you on the ‘inferior’ part of your description.”

Odin slowly sits back down on his throne, leaning his chin on his hand in contemplation. He scans Thor’s face for any sign of lies, but he sees none. He knows his son. Loki can hide a million lies, but Thor is easily persuaded and weak. There is not much Thor can hide, yet there is nothing to hide. Odin knows what Thor says is true.

“What do I have to gain by releasing him free? He will not learn his lesson. He’ll lack the power and attention and create chaos once again.”

“You have never seen Loki with this moral. She contains him, controls him,” Thor informs, “She’s the calm to his storm.”

His words ring throughout the throne room. Some of the officials have stopped what they are doing to listen to the two royals bicker and Thor’s description of the girl has piqued all of their interest. They murmur to one another, discussing the topic at hand. A girl who really has control over Loki? It seems impossible. They all remember him growing up, running around and causing havoc. The only woman who ever kept him in check was Frigga. Another woman, a mortal even, being able to have the same power is extraordinarily rare.

“Somehow I believe you,” Odin admits.

“Then let him go and come with me. You can meet her for yourself. She’s truly a rare creature if I say so myself.”

“I might consider that, Thor, but if I were to let him go and your words not be true, there’s no telling what he could do. He could stab me in the back and attempt to take over another world.”

“Fine, then come now. See her for yourself.”

There’s a large flash of light that comes down on the hangar. Nat watches as Thor and Odin appear, dressing in formal Asgardian clothing. They walk down the bridge towards the doors as Nat whistles for Steve or Tony. Steve and Bucky walk in to see the gods strutting down.

“What’s happening here?” Steve asks.

“I thought you could answer that,” Nat replies.

“Everybody, this is my father, Odin.”

Their eyes go wide at Thor’s smile. Dropping to their knees, they show Odin respect who chuckles with joy.

“I never knew Midgardians were so compliant. No wonder Loki came here.”

“Father, please try not to anger anyone. No promises that I will protect you. I am here to introduce him to Y/N. I suppose she is around?”

“I’ll go get her.”

As soon as the words leave Bucky’s mouth, Steve gets up to protest but the soldier is already down the hallway. He returns a few moments later with you, wrapped in your blankets. Bucky lightly pushes you towards Thor who stretches out his hand. You take his hand and look over to him with curiosity in your eyes.

“Father,” Thor says, backing up to show Odin to your eyesight, “this is Y/n, who Loki fell in love with.”

Odin looks over you, stunned by your appearance. Although you look better than you have in the last few weeks, you’re still a little scrawny. You don’t stand with power or confidence, but instead with your head low and eyes lower. You lack the flame, the boldness, the theatrical attributes Loki has. Nothing about you makes sense to him.

“You’re the one I’ve heard so much about?”

You nod your head which stirs Odin.

“Will you not answer my-”

“Oh, Father, I failed to mention something important. She is mute. She does not speak to anyone, except for Loki.”

Thor gives his father a shit eating grin, proving another point of Loki’s importance. Odin takes a step back in shock.

“Nobody?”

“Nobody, but Loki.”

Odin looks back over to you who nods your head in agreement, “How unremarkable. Loki falling for a mortal and one who doesn’t speak at that.”

“Like I said, a rare creature.”

“So, tell me, or don’t… do you love Loki?’

You nod your head at Odin’s question and it looks as if he doesn’t understand your answer or as if he doesn’t believe you. Although he has one eye, you can see the confusion on his face. He opens his mouth to speak, but it quivers with no sound coming out. His eyes wander down to see a small gold necklace laying on your chest.

“What is that?”

You hold it up for him to see. The metal resembles a snake, one coiled up and hissing.

“Did Loki get you that?”

You nod enthusiastically, fiddling with it between your fingers. Steve walks up behind you and places a hand on your shoulder.

“Loki has given her a few gifts actually. Flowers, jewelry, name it.”

“And you, whoever you are, have you seen the way Loki is with her?”

“We all have,” Steve admits, “he’s gentle, patient. He’s never made her uncomfortable. She’s his first priority when he wakes and his last thought before he lays himself to bed.”

“Son, it seems your words ring true. I may consider freeing Loki, but I need time.”

“Father, in all due respect time-”

“You’ve challenged me enough today. Y/N, it was a pleasure meeting you and I have learned a lot about Loki, even in our short time meeting. Thor, let’s go back to Asgard. There's a son I’d like a word with.”

The door to the cell opens and Loki’s head springs up. Expecting to see Thor, he’s shocked when Odin comes through looking solemn.

“Father, I-”

Odin holds up his finger, silencing Loki. He paces back and forth in the room.

“I know a lot of things. Nobody doubts that,” he rambles, “but for my son to fall in love with a silent mortal girl is not one. She’s sweet. I like her.”

Loki cocks his head to the side, mouth slightly open in confusion.

“Yes, I met her. Tiny thing, but cute. I see why you like her. Thor likes her, too. He’s been arguing with me all day about letting you go and on behalf of her. I can’t say I’m not surprised. It took me a moment to truly believe him when he said you fell in love with a Midgardian. Once he took me down there to meet her, everything made sense. So, I have a proposition for you. You never return here and live the rest of your life on Midgard with her or I keep you here.” “What’s the catch?” Loki whines.

“There is none. Take my generosity before I change my mind. Doesn’t happen often.”

Odin walks out of the cell, but leaves the door open. Loki doesn’t stand up right away, not sure if he’s playing a trick on him or not. He looks around every corner and crevice, checking to see if there is anyone hiding to tackle him for stepping out. Loki stretches his body, bones cracking and popping into placement. He can feel the energy returning to his body as he takes a step out of his cage and towards the main halls of the castle.

#loki x reader #loki #loki laufeyson series #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki fan fiction #loki laufeyson #loki x reader fluff #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #lovingallforloki #voicelesslove

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notfckincool · 3 years

Text

DIRTY GIRL

CHAPTER 10

Negan x Ana (OC)

Ana embarks on a casual but obviously filthy affair with Negan, accidentally falling for the man, knowing he will never love her. Angst and Kinky fuckery.

Its Negan so expect swearing and strong sexual content throughout

Chapter 10 - Giant box of sex toys

Negan x Ana (OC)

Ana is invited to stay the night with Negan before he leaves for a long run. Seeing yet another side to Negan's personality, she realizes her feelings for her handsome fuckbuddy might run a little deeper than she cares to admit. (ctd from shower scene ch9)

WARNINGS🔞 marking, sensation play, sex toys, butt stuff. daddy kink, edging, lil bit o' fluff

"You are mine now, to do with as I please. I don't have to leave until the day after tomorrow and when I'm finished with you, you won't be able to walk. I'm going to make sure you can still feel me while I'm gone."

Legs clamped around his hips, face inches from mine, his words reverberate through me...I'm completely under his spell, caught up in the intensity in his dark eyes and the promise of his undivided attention. I've longed for this. Eyes still locked, he lowers me gently, smirking at the power he knows he has over me.

"Now turn around princess let's wash that shit outta your hair"

My hair is lathered, massaged, and gently rinsed. The last of the blood of those who dared to defy us, swirling away down the plughole. A long but comfortable silence falls over us as his fingers glide softly over my neck, shoulders and arms. The first time we've been together without the constant banter and I don't feel the need to fill the space with chatter. I focus on his soapy hands moving firmly but gently over my body. A softness to his touch, a tenderness I'm not familiar with. He finds the knots above my shoulder blades, thumbs pressing circles into my aching muscles.

"Ugh...That feels so good"

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah, there...down a bit..left a bit"

"What about there?" he applies more pressure, chuckling as he squeezes a tight knot.

"Ow...fuck..ow..yeah...that hurts" I laugh, wriggling beneath his strong hands "...Dont stop though"

"What about this bit…..right...here…"

"Oooooohh….you fucker" I squirm and chuckle" You really fucking love hurting me"

"Hahaha, yes I fucking do….and don't pretend you don't love it. Now stop fucking wriggling" He delivers a stinging slap to my wet ass.

"Ahhh"

"Never get fuckin tired of hearing that, princess" he chuckles giving me another slap.

"Ahhh. You're a sadist"

He laughs a genuine warm laugh. I feel his breath on my neck and a row of delicate kisses. I react to his touch with a roll of my head giving him better access. Sweeping my hair aside, grazing me softly with lips and teeth, we almost feel like a normal couple….almost

"Yes I am...a sadistic fuck….mmmmm….your ass looks good with my handprints on it...and you girl, you, are a masochist....so what the fuck are we going to do about that?"

Hands weaving into my hair, twisting until it's balled in his fist, his weight shifts behind me, lurching forward, pressing me splayed against the shower wall. My breath hitches, the sudden change in tone and temperament excites me. Teeth clamp down onto my neck, and I moan quietly as he sucks marks onto my skin.

"See.." his voice low in my ear "Fucking…..Mine".

Withdrawing suddenly, he releases my hair and switches off the water. My heart pounding, I wait silently against the wall, listening as he moves behind me. I love the excitement of never knowing what he's going to do next.

...And then I feel the softness of his lips kissing my freshly bruised skin and I'm carefully turned around and wrapped in a large fluffy towel. I look up at him from under my lashes, mesmerized as he gently rubs my hair and tenderly pats me dry. Well this is….a whole new level of unpredictability. I'm surprised by this softer caring side of him but I've got to admit, I like it, and I can't help but wonder if this is what it's like to be a wife. Arranging the towel around me he tucks it in, my look of total confusion is lost on him as he flashes me one of his heart stopping smiles. He kisses my forehead before turning and grabbing himself a towel, tucking it casually around his waist as he strolls off into the living room.I peer around the door frame after him as he pours two drinks from an expensive looking decanter, following him into the room as he sets the glasses on the coffee table. He sits on the sofa, pats the seat beside him, I sit, like a good girl, and accept the glass he offers me.

" We did a great fucking job tonight….we make an awesome team"

"No one messes with us" I grin, raising my glass.

"Damn fucking straight!"

Our glasses chink together and we take a sip, his eyes never leaving mine, watching me over the rim of his glass

"You did good…...I'm real fucking proud of you"

Proud of me? He leans forward to wipe a splash of liquor from my lips, his thumb lingering. Then closer still, his lips tantalisingly close to mine. My stomach does a weird and unexpected thing. That feeling you get as the rollercoaster tips over the first dip? And did I just blush? A smile plays at the corner of his lips, his thumb still lightly resting on mine. I find myself searching his eyes, softer now, and the wicked twinkle is back. Overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, I lean in…..and of course he pulls back, sinking into the sofa taking a sip of his drink. Damn it! Why did I do that? I know the rules. Trying to disguise my disappointment I fiddle with my towel and take a large swig, emptying the glass while thinking of something to say to ease my frustration.

"So, you all set for the run?" I ask casually.

"Yeah, Simon's just finalizing a few things, then we're good to go"

"I wish I could come" I glance across at him. God, did that sound needy?

"Yeah.. me too... but I need you here" he glances back, looking sincere.

"You sure? I can be so much more useful..."

"Ana, no, it's decided." he interrupts "You're staying here" He drains his glass.

Is he angry with me? Did I go too far? Nodding, I draw up my legs, resting my chin on my knees, and stare pensively at the empty glass... I'll miss you...That's what I wanted to say, but I didn't. What's wrong with me? I know what this is. Ok, enough now, stop being weird you'll scare him off and he'll pack you off back to your own room. I have him all to myself for tonight, and tomorrow, and I'm making the most of it. He looks back at me, resting his hand on my knee.

"You know, you're one of the few people I trust to handle things here while I'm gone...I need you….here"

More praise. My stomach does that thing again and I try to look cool, but I know he sees right through it. I need to get a grip. There's a long lingering eyelock and a bite of his lip before he snatches the glass from me and rises from the sofa with a chuckle. I hear him refilling the drinks.

"I got you something"

"Really? What is it?"

Resting the refills on the table he sits next to me, passing me a box fastened with a satin bow. I look at him puzzled as he grins like an excited child on Christmas morning.

"You're gonna fuckin love this!...come on, fuckin open it"

I grin back and pull the bow, lifting the lid and stare into the box.

"Oh…...A giant box of sex toys…for me…..you shouldn't have" I smile

"Yeah! You fuckin love it, right? I knew you fuckin would. Don't worry they're all brand spanking new in the wrappers. Couldn't believe my fuckin luck when we came across this sex store on a run, surprisingly well stocked, not really survival essentials I guess, well except for you? nudges me and chuckles "Been keeping them here….cos…..Well.... I knew you'd fuckin appreciate...."He wiggles his eyebrows, his tongue poking out between his teeth. He's genuinely pleased with himself.

"....ya know….Since I'm gonna be away…." he grabs my wrist. "…and it might be a while…." pulls me towards his lap. "....and I know how antsy you get if I'm not around to satisfy you..." I straddle him smiling widely."...so…." he grasps my hips tightly.".....you will wait for me until I get back…." rolls his hips upwards. "...no screwing around…" he grabs at my ass. "..no one gets to fuckin touch you but me…." squeezes my ass. "...you behave when I'm not here…understood?" He grips my chin firmly."... Are you gonna be a good girl while daddy's away?"

Oh yeah, I know what this is. I like this game and I'll happily play along. I am definitely going to make the most of it.

"Yes" I nod"

"That is exactly fuckin right." His grip tightening on my chin.

There's a sudden knock at the door that jolts us both. I sigh and reluctantly dismount. He answers the door, returning with a tray of snacks, a tub of ice cream, two spoons and a satisfied grin.

"Time to eat princess" He sets down the tray as I rummage through the box, selecting a large dildo, wiggling it with a smirk.

"Yeah... but look at this"

"Impressive" he chuckles sitting himself back down " I mean, not as good as the real fucking thing obviously" he clutches himself under the towel " but it should tide you over while I'm gone"

"You are so thoughtful" I smile sweetly

"I really fucking am" he grins " I am sooooo fucking good to you. Now eat. You're going to need your energy." he winks, I turn my attention back to the box, inspecting and unwrapping a shiny new butt plug, waving it at him.

"But daddy… I want to play"

"Get back here on my lap you bad fuckin girl... I said eat...Now open wide princess" I look shyly at him as I open my mouth for him. "Oh princess..who do you think you're fuckin kidding? I know you can open wider than that" And then we feel normal again. We eat and talk and laugh, teasing and fooling around like best friends, as though the cruel world outside never existed. I get to see the part of him that no one else does, except maybe the wives. Maybe that's why they do it. Maybe it's not so bad afterall. A sliver of ice cream escapes the spoon, trickling down my chin.

"You're not doing a very good job of this" I laugh "I can feed myself you know"

Leaning forward his tongue strokes over my chin and across my lips.

"Yeah, but this is more fun"

His cool lips brush against mine as he trails the spoon lightly down my neck and collar bone, cold metal grazing against warm skin. His eyes on mine he unfastens my towel and it falls away. The spoon continues its journey torturously slowly across the curve of my breasts, resting on a nipple which hardens on contact, sending a shudder right to my core. I react with a whimper and grind against him. He watches the spoon travel to the other nipple. I inhale sharply, grinding again.

Leaning in he licks slowly over my nipple, teasing with cold lips and tongue over the sensitive bud. My body begs for more, arching backwards, grinding rhythmically against the hardening beneath his towel. He reaches between us pushing it away, revealing his swelling cock, and pulls me to him as he takes my nipple fully into his mouth. Sucking, cold tongue swirling, teeth nipping and pinching. The other nipple between finger and thumb rolling and tugging.

And just like that I want him.. again. Never get enough of the way he makes me feel, the way my body reacts to him. I want him on me, in me, but more than that, I crave the intimacy, the closeness. No longer satisfied with a quick casual fuck, am I becoming obsessed? Feeling him growing beneath me, all self control goes out of the window. I slide along his length, giving myself the friction I need, coating him in my arousal, my hands threading into his hair.

"Look at my needy little princess getting herself off on daddys big cock" His hand grabs firmly at my hair and tugs.

I know he doesn't feel that way about me. Just another toy, another plaything, willing to let him do whatever he wants, but I can't help myself. I always want more.

Reaching for the metal plug he dips and holds it in the ice cream, then puts it to my lips, offering it to me to lick clean. I hold his gaze, his eyes darkening again as my tongue swirls across the cold surface.

"I know what I want to eat next" he smirks "On your hands and knees princess"

Obediently I pry myself from his lap and position myself on all fours. His long large fingers slide tantalisingly between my folds, exploring the wetness flooding from me. Fingers gliding up and down from clit to ass and back again, spreading my arousal.

"Babygirl, you are fuckin soaked...practically dripping….and it's all for me….I want to taste that sweet honey now, princess, hold still for me"

I quiver as I feel his mouth on me.

"Mmmmmmm" he hums against me as he hungrily devours me and I desperately try to hold still as his tongue teases my pussy and ass.

"Princess, I said hold still, and you better not cum until I say."

I feel his finger circling the tight hole, permitting him entrance as he slowly eases in. I inhale sharply, stifling a moan, holding off the inevitable.

"Fuck!" I gasp

"You like that princess?"

"Mhm" I mumble into the leather

"Use your words princess. Tell me what you want,"

"I like it...I want more...please"

"Good girl"

Another wet finger is pushed inside, stretching me. It feels so good I can't resist the urge to bear down.

"Oh god...I'm gonna.."

"..Tsk tsk" he tuts at me withdrawing his fingers, delivering a spank "I said keep still" he scolds

"Please...I'll behave" I plead, desperately needing my release.

"Yes, you will, darlin"

The icy cold metal of the plug is pressed against my clit, it sends electricity pulsing through me. He teases my cunt, coating it in my juices, dipping it inside me, sliding its way to my ass where it rests. Pushing in a little he holds it there,fingers back to circling my clit, the perfect speed and pressure. My jaw clenches, eyes clamp shut, teetering on the edge of orgasm, I pant and clutch at the leather.

"Oh god, oh god...please"

"Breath princess, you're doing so well but, I want to hear you beg" he insists, pushing it in a little more, meeting resistance as I subconsciously clench, twisting, taunting me. I wriggle and get another slap.

"Fuck! Please"

"Beg me"

"Please...I need to cum...please...please daddy"

"You've been so good babygirl……"

Easing in further, the cold metal, the stinging burn on my ass, the rubbing of my clit, its overwhelming.

"Thats it, Babygirl…..cum for me"

Pushing it in all the way, I'm sent soaring over the edge, back arching, trembling, convulsing. I cum so hard I feel it dripping from me.

"Such a good girl. I'm so proud of you…."

The jewelled plug sitting snugly inside me, he runs his hand down my back, strokes tenderly over the sore pink handprints on my cheeks as I shake from the waves of pleasure rushing through me.

"...Mmmmm….your ass looks so pretty princess."

I feel him lining up behind me, running his shaft between my folds coating and wetting himself, teasing me with his tip. I'm still shuddering and shaking as he grabs my hips and plunges into me.

"Holy fuck!"

I'm completely filled. Holding me tight as I contract around him, he growls low, withdrawing slowly only to snap back in as far as he can go. I moan loudly, the double penetration almost too much to bear. Snap. Hold. Snap. Hold. Over and over. Every thrust as powerful as the last. Gradually picking up speed I brace myself against the sofa, his fingers digging into my hips as he sets his pace, hitting me deep inside, the sound of his groans triggering the heat again, building and spreading, washing over me. Praise and obscenities pour from his lips. Hard relentless fucking until he loses his rhythm, withdrawing quickly and the warm wet splash of his release spills on my back.

Exhausted, I collapse onto the sofa.

"Fuck, princess!...God fuckin damn!"

Gently, he wipes me down and casts away the towel.

"Does look good that pretty jewel in your ass, might request you wear it to the next savior meeting" he grins "our little secret, I'll enjoy watching you squirm" He chuckles. "Think you're gonna enjoy my little gift?"

"Sorry can't speak"

He laughs and lifts himself from the sofa, taking the box of toys and tray of snacks over to the bedside table, nodding for me to join him on the four poster.

"Can't walk either" I laugh

Shaking his head he scoops me up carrying me to the bed, placing me down gently and handing me a bottle of water. He lays down beside me, head propped on his arm, watching me sip the water.

Reaching across me to the tub of rapidly melting ice cream, he kisses my neck and says in my ear

"Oh, I am in no way finished with you yet"

He grabs the tub and sits himself upright, loading up his spoon, looking at me with a dark smirk.

"Best eat up, princess. I promised to fuck you all night, and I am a man of my word"

MASTERLIST

@chloejanedecker1 @negan-love @bychrissi @nayghtynegan @negans-attagirl

#negan fanfiction #negan smut #negan x oc #twd negan #negan #television #smut #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead negan #jeffrey dean morgan #jdmorgan #jdmporn #fanfic #twd fanfiction #the saviors #the sanctuary #negan fic

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shinydelirium · 3 years

Text

MLQC Season 2 Chapter 12 (Kiro) Part 7 [Duplicity] Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

For previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 12: Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

Enjoy~

[Duplicity]

As I walked through the quiet forest located on the outskirts of Loveland City, I felt goosebumps along my skin—

After all, an actual, cruel battle and murder happened here.

Zehn: Boss, I have confirmed that this place is just an ordinary forest now.

MC: Did you find anything else?

Zehn: There was a big fire here before, burning a large area without leaving any useful clues.

Zehn: However, it was precisely because of this fire that the entire forest was temporarily sealed off. Apart from a few forest rangers, there were no suspicious people.

MC: Ok, you wait outside. I’ll call if I need you.***Changed some wording***

After confirming with Zehn, I hung up the phone.

I remembered that Kiro unlocked the dilapidated building that was secured with infrared rays and began to head in that direction according to my memory.

The leaves gently swayed in the wind. The sunlight came through and the air was faintly filled with a burning scent that had not yet dissipated. The whole forest was eerie and silent.

There were traces of fire erosion everywhere. I walked along the forest path and couldn’t even find the tree hole where Kiro and I took shelter in.

Like everything else that has happened in the past, it can easily be wiped cleaned by the world. ***Changed some wording***

There is nothing else that can be done except to use my memory to push forward with resolution.

I sighed and continued to search for that building. Soon, after walking through a bush, I found it.

MC: …Hold on a second. There won’t be any of those infrared rays here, right?

Thinking about this, I carefully threw a stone and nothing happened.

I stepped across a damaged stone slab and finally came to this dilapidated building.

Upon my inspection, there is a broken stone slate with a figure covered in thorns faintly painted on it.

I looked back in the direction I came from and retraced my steps, afraid that I might have missed some small symbols. ***Changed some wording***

MC: Found it!

In one corner, I finally saw that the figure covered with thorns was exactly the same as the one Shaw showed me.

MC: What does this mean?

Shaw said it was related to a certain ruin but it appeared in the hunter game again.

I stood up and stepped into the building. Inside, an entire beam had collapsed. After years of wear and tear, it was even covered with moss.

It looked like any ordinary small building that was abandoned.

MC: It doesn’t seem like there are any ruins….

I knocked on the wall and it didn’t sound like there was a mechanism inside.

MC: Is it just a coincidence?

I went back to the stone slab with the thorns symbol and casually touched it.

Suddenly, the thorns on the symbol seemed to be moving. They quickly grew out of the stone slab and struck my palm.

MC: !

What kind of slate is this?! How can things grow out like that?!

The lit-up slate didn’t give me any time to recover from my surprise. The bright green light surging along the graph seemed to be reading something.

??: Identity….confirmed…

There was a faint vibration under my feet, and the sound of gears turned slowly.

When the bright green light covered the entire figure, a line of the same color traversed my foot and became thicker.

I wanted to observe the stone slab more carefully but I suddenly felt nothing underneath my feet. Then, a huge sense of weightlessness hit my face.

The rapid fall continued to pull me downwards. The sound of gears creaked as they turned and I watched the light above my head slowly be covered by the slate.

At the moment when the light was about to be completely gone, a distinct silver light shot towards me.

Like a lone star in the distant desolate night, it’s the only thing that illuminates the entire night sky.

In the next second, I was forcefully being lifted into a pair of strong arms. They were a little rough but I couldn’t stop shaking.

I couldn’t help but want to cry.

The hook thrown by the visitor stabbed straight into the crevice of the stone. With a powerful yank, the two of us were thrown over and we fell in a heap onto a transparent step.

Helios: Do you want to die like that?!

I stared blankly at Helios, whose eyes were full of anger. Because of the shock just now, his whole body was tense and his hair was all frizzy. He looked very wolfish.

He’s here. He appeared in front of me again just like in the last hunter game.

Thinking about this, I couldn’t help laughing.

Helios: What a pain. ***Changed some wording***

MC: Helios, why are you here?

I was too lazy to care about him as I gripped his arm that was about to move, tilted my head and looked at him.

Helios: Just passing by. ***Mm-hmm...sure, you were “just passing by”...I know what’s up, lol***

MC: In a place like this?

Helios: So what?

MC: Then why did you save me just now?

Helios: You needed it.

I stared down at his arm that had a faint red mark from the tight rope and looked back to his eyes.

Helios: Let go if you’re done asking questions. ***Me: Why are you so gorgeously beautiful?***

Coming back to my senses, I released my hands and let Helios withdraw his arm.

When I opened my hand, there was a slight tingling pain on my palm. I remembered the strange thorny slab just now.

I looked at the blood stain on my hand, not knowing why.

At this moment, a white handkerchief was impatiently shoved into my other hand.

When I looked up, Helios had already stepped away.

Helios: It’ll become an eyesore. ***He might come off as rude and mean when he talks but his actions speak otherwise....I LOVE HIM!!!***

I looked at the handkerchief, then at Helios who was walking away. Trying to suppress my smile, I wrapped up the wound and ran to him.

MC: Helios, what are you wearing in your ears? New earphones? ***MC, please don’t be nosy...now’s not the time***

Helios: It has nothing to do with you.

He stared straight ahead without looking at me. Trying to find something to do, my eyes darted around. ***Changed some wording***

Only then did I get a chance to take a good look at this strange place.

Transparent white steps glowed faintly. They continued to spiral downwards, not knowing where they led to.

Under this forest, there is still such an enormous and mysterious place.

On the dusty walls, occasionally a bright green light would flash by like arcs of cryptic electronic codes.

MC: Helios, do you know where we are?

Helios: Don’t know.

MC: Then you should know what this electronic code signal on the wall is, right?

MC: See, it’s the one that just passed by.

Helios: What are you trying to say?

MC: What do you think it is?

Helios: Don’t know.

MC: …..

I lowered my head and walked behind him, trying to control my facial expression. I took a few deep breaths to keep myself from getting angry because of his attitude.

In addition to being angry, I was more aggrieved.

It’s not that I’ve never seen Helios with such a bad temper. I was concerned about Kiro and I tried my best to cooperate with him.

But this repeated hot and cold behavior still hurts me a lot.

The way Kiro smiles at me every time appeared before my eyes. The way he stands firmly in front of me if I’ve been wronged. ***Changed some wording***

In the case of Kiro’s words….

I looked up at Helio’s cold back and blinked slowly.

MC: It’s not like I asked you to come…

MC: You didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to and I didn’t ask you to save me.

I muttered in a loud voice. The more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I felt. Finally, I stopped where I was, not wanting to pay any attention to the person who only talked back with biting words.

Heavy footsteps came from a distance and stopped before me.

Helios: What do you want to do?

MC: Helios, you go on ahead by yourself and leave me behind.

My eyes shifted from is mocking face to the toe of my shoe.

Helios: Do you think I want to control?

MC: Helios, I’ll get injured too. Since you don’t want to control, then go by yourself. I will handle my business on my own.

MC: Thank you for saving me just now. I’ll repay you next time.

I calmly said everything word for word and firmly looked into his eyes.

Helios: Silly. ***T/N: “愚蠢” (yúchǔn) also means “fool” so it can be used interchangeably***

He sneered and actually walked away from me. Each step was hard and heavy with an air of stubbornness.

Hearing his footsteps going further and further away, I stood still and sighed, spitting out “Kiro” again and again in my heart, while thinking about what to do next.

But soon, those same footsteps returned, and I felt my arm being pulled hard and my whole body lurched forward.

MC: You, what are you doing?

Helio: Come on.

MC: Didn’t I say to go by yourself?! I won’t stop you either, so….

Helios: Be quiet.

He leaned his face closer to me. Anger was mixed in those blue eyes which were usually calm.

He grabbed my hand and walked down the steps without saying a word.

Seeing Helios like this, a little flag of victory was secretly erected in my heart. ***Lmao!!!***

MC: Since you “must” take me with you and for the convenience of me to understand your thoughts better—

MC: I suggest you speak more than three words and be gentle…hey!

He deliberately pulled me and I almost fell to the ground.

Helios: You’re being too noisy.

MC: You said four words so that means you’ve accepted my suggestion.

A mocking look appeared on his face again but there was a hint of complex emotion in his eyes.

Helios: You really don’t know when to give up.

MC: Then you’re wrong. I’m actually someone who gives up easily.

MC: It just depends on what it is.

I smiled and looked at Helios. His pupils contracted for a moment and then he looked away.

Helios: So talkative.

MC: You only said two words. ***OMG, I can’t....lmfao***

I followed him with a grin on my face. A mysterious and white glow wrapped around us, but I didn’t feel any fear—

Probably because Kiro is by my side.

MC: Helios, do you think there’s no end to these stairs? Like those space-loops you see in the movies?

MC: What if we can’t get out?

Helios: Doesn’t matter. Before we get out, I’ll be annoyed to death by you first.

MC: After giving it some thought, your attitude is very bad.

Helios: Then don’t talk to me. ***Can’t help but agree with him XD***

MC: But you haven’t answered my question…

Helios: See for yourself.

I followed his gaze and looked down. As expected, a grayish light was faintly visible at the end of the steps.

A bright green light slid across the wall like plankton and the sound of huge gears came from below.

??: Lighthouse visitor language….analysis complete….

??: Synchronized.

A light electronic sound came softly as if in welcome.

-End of Part 7-

***Sorry but not sorry for all the many screenshots. The banter between Helios and MC is just pure gold and I had to include their facial expressions XD. Besides that, things are finally gonna get interesting from here on.***

#spoilers #mlqc #mlqc spoilers #mlqc season 2 #mlqc season 2 spoilers #translations #mlqc translations #mlqc season 2 translations #kiro #kiro spoilers #helios #helios spoilers #love and producer #koi to producer #mr love queen's choice #mr love game #mr love dream date #mldd

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frostsinth · 3 years

Text

Royal Flush - Pt 12

Part 1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10|11 - MasterList - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - Art - ... Art - Art - Art ( #obsessed)

... I cried writing this part. I’m not going to lie. I felt like there was so much I wanted to put into words, and I couldn’t quite seem to get it all out. But this is the second to last part.

I hope you guys enjoyed all this... let’s call it ‘seriousness’, shall we? Part 13 will conclude the story. I’ve already got it mostly underway. I appreciate you all so much for sticking with me through this and indulging my obsession. These are my boys, and I’m right along with you guys on the roller coaster they brought us on.... I hope you can hang on for the final plunge...

If you want a happier chapter, I wrote an alternative Part 11 that spins off in a better, NSFW direction. Fully in character, but it was a “what could have happened” alternative timeline. That is available on my BuyMeACoffee which you can access through my MasterList page above. Only a few copies available, so be sure to get them while you can!

Anyways... I won’t say enjoy... Because I think that’s the wrong word for this chapter...

I stood before the small gathering of goblins, turning over the information just relayed to me in my head a few times. They waited in silence with bated breath. I could tell they were not used to that; I was sure “silence” was not a thing they experienced often with Grier as their King. The thought set a bitter soreness in my chest, and I tried to brush the memory aside before it could overwhelm me. I noticed them exchange a few looks as well, as if trying to ascertain what to do. Hibik’s eyes flicked to Damjan at the corners, and then he even turned slightly to look at the Master Healer and his apprentice. Damjan shifted, clasping his hands behind his back, and I saw Seoc’s hands wringing in front of him.

They appeared very unnerved by me. I could read it in their faces plainly. All their anxiousness, their fear; I could see their thoughts etched into each flick of their eyes and twitch of their expression. But I knew they would not be able to pull a thing from the mask I had constructed. I had carefully stacked every last grain of mortar and chip of stone back into place. A masterpiece perfected over a long lifetime of necessity. A face sculpted from marble and polished as smooth as glass. I considered them each one more time, and they became somehow even more restless beneath my scrutiny.

“You are certain?” I said finally, and they all seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. I was happy my voice was flat and emotionless... considering the fear that pulsed through me at that moment. I felt faint, and my heart raced to try to provide the same blood currently rushing as fast as it could away from my head.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Hibik replied, bowing slightly. “We have confirmed it... The King has contracted the Rotting Sickness.”

“How is that possible?” I asked, my voice still flat but still firm. “I was told this sickness could not affect goblins. You have no record of it in your cities.”

Hibik hesitated, then glanced at the Master Healer, who bowed low until his long white beard scraped the floor by his toes. I tried to remember if I had been given his name, but felt as though I was swatting at drifting ash in a pitch black night.

“In its natural form, we cannot, Your Highness,” He explained, “However, it seems to have… mutated.”

“And your magic?” I demanded quietly, and I saw him wince.

“This mutation… it seems to have targeted His Majesty's own innate magic. Turning it against him.” He glanced back towards the bedroom door, where the King in question lay in a potion induced slumber. “Therefore our healing magic is ineffective against it, save to help temporarily alleviate his symptoms.”

My heart thundered in my chest, pounding relentlessly against my ribcage. I became distinctly aware of each crescendo of my breath, crashing in my ears like the waves of the ocean upon the shore. For a moment, I couldn’t do anything else. I stood, trying to bury the sinking dread that threatened to drag me beneath the cold waters. Trying not to linger on thoughts that grabbed at the corners of my consciousness and shook me for attention. I stubbornly pushed it all down, and stood like a statue for another long moment as I did.

I realized belatedly the tension rising in the room again at my silence. They were at a loss, I realized. None of them knew what to do... They were all waiting for me to decide. To command them. I flicked my hollow gaze to Hibik briefly, then returned my attention to the Healer. Trying to fight my way through the numbness to force sound from my lips.

“Then what is the King’s prognosis?” I barely recognized that the words came from my own mouth. They sounded distant and hollow, even to me.

“... The next few days will be critical to His Majesty’s recovery.”

My whole body stiffened at his words. I adjusted my tongue in my mouth momentarily before continuing. “And what are his chances?”

I saw the Healer hesitate, and glance to his second. I didn’t need to hear his words to know his response. It was written plainly across his face. My blood ran cold. “I am afraid… they are not good.”

It took every last ounce of my strength not to collapse. I had imagined myself into stone, and embodied a statue of a man instead of one made of flesh and blood. Withdrawing deep into the walls of my own design. Ones I had begun to turn a critical eye on. Ones I had dared to start to disassemble. Now ones that I needed almost as much as the air I drew in; elsewise I would melt into a helpless pool of gelatinous goo.

“What can we do to improve them?” I inquired stiffly. “What treatment are you attempting?”

“Rest.” The Healer spoke through his teeth, and I could see the sorrow lingering in the corners of his eyes. “Broth, when he can manage it. Keeping his temperature down… The majority of the battle will be up to the King alone now.”

I nearly bit my tongue to keep from snapping it at him. That was it? That was the best they could do? No teas, no potions. No magical charms or amulets or anything else? He was a King! Surely no expense would be spared for his treatment. There must be something more they could do. Honestly, I would settle for spiritual circles and prayers to dead ancient gods… The realization that it was because it didn’t matter who he was did not settle well on my shoulders. I quickly sought to think of something else and shifted my gaze to Hibik.

“The other goblins who came with us to the human Capital. Have they shown any signs of the sickness?”

He shook his head so hard his big ears flopped audibly. “No, Your Highness.”

I nodded curtly. “They shall be quarantined as a precaution. And warded, if possible. Any and all preventative measures put into place.” I looked back at the Healer and considered him with a harsh eye. “I do not want this to spread. Any spare resources will be utilized for researching a method to combat it. And I want a Healer to certify the Princess’ warding is still in place.”

Both Hibik and the Master Healer bowed. “Yes, Your Highness. Right away.”

“Consider all non-essential duties on hold for now.” I continued. “Everything that can proceed without approval or review may do so, but everything else must wait.” I looked at Hibik sternly. “If it is an urgent matter that cannot be suspended, bring it to me. I will trust these matters to you. Seoc shall take over your duties in the capacity of serving the King’s personal needs as well as my own while you handle those affairs. In the meantime,” Now I turned to Damjan. “Word of the King’s condition should remain within these walls. Only individuals who absolutely need to know will be informed. I want the guard doubled, I want reconnaissance and intel efforts increased, in case this was somehow intentional. I will not have us caught unawares.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” Damjan bowed his head as well, seemingly pleased with my orders.

“Then go. Bring a report as soon as you have it.” I dismissed them, and watched as the Healer and his apprentice left. The former assuring they would be back soon to check on the King. The other three lingered. I steeled myself, reaching out one hand to the back of the couch as casually as I could. Pretending I didn’t need it to keep myself standing. “Is there more?”

The King’s Secretary hesitated, and he glanced over to Damjan for reassurance. The General stepped forward, jerking his chin at me.

“There is a matter of state that requires your attention, Your Highness.” He told me.

I clenched the back of the couch to prevent my hand from shaking. Looking off towards the King’s bed chambers again. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be gone. To run, perhaps. To run until I couldn’t breathe. To find some dark hollow place and crawl into it. I wanted to be alone, but feared that as much as I feared letting anyone see the crash of emotions inside me. I couldn’t access my head through the cloud engulfing me. I couldn’t handle the pulse beneath my skin. I couldn’t handle the throb in my chest or the aching numbness there. It was only a lifetime of practice that kept my feet beneath me and my mouth returning formal and practiced answers.

“Go on then, General.”

“The King has no heir.” He told me curtly, and my eyes jerked to him. “We need to be sure we are prepared-”

“The King lies ill-” I interrupted him sharply, my voice flat but heavy with denial “-No more than a few feet from where you stand. And you would speak of successors as if he already rests on his deathbed.”

I nearly choked on the word. But Damjan’s heavy brow furrowed, and I heard Hibik sniffle sadly, shaking his head. My lips pursed as the apprehension settled like an iron shroud. Dragging us all down towards the ground. Seoc shifted, his own face bleak and morose. I couldn’t settle my gaze on any of them for the pain of their expressions, plainly evident on their features, and so stared at some distant point beyond them.

“... The King requested this himself.” Damjan finally said, his voice thin, his face hard. He seemed to be trying as hard as me not to let his emotions overwhelm him. But he didn’t have my practice.

“Requested what, exactly?” I demanded, pleased that my voice didn’t reflect any of the storm inside me.

The General didn’t answer. Instead, Hibik tentatively stepped forward. Pulling a rolled parchment from under his arm. Holding it out to me gingerly. I took it as carefully as if it might explode at any second. I glanced around at them warily, then slowly unrolled the parchment. My eyes skimmed across it, hardly reading at all. Certainly not comprehending the majority.

Ice cracked through my veins as I realized what I held in my hands, and my whole body finally went completely numb. I blinked at it stupidly a few times, staring at the King’s signature at the bottom. Re-reading the final line several times over...

“...With their mutual consent, and in the presence of Witnesses, are entered and joined into lawful and holy wedlock...”

“... A-a marriage license?” I stammered before I could catch myself. Unable to hide the disbelief.

Hibik nodded slowly. “His Majesty had me compose it this morning after he spoke with the Healer, and signed immediately thereafter before he…” He swallowed loudly. “I-it was his wish that you sign it as well. That you might be named his-”

“That is preposterous.” I raised a hand, silencing him before he could finish his thought. “Dowager Queen Morag still lives. Certainly she-”

“The Dowager Queen was forced to step down from the throne when the King was 19 due to her waning health.” Now it was Damjan’s turn to interrupt me. He took a long step forward, standing beside Hibik and pulling my attention to him. “I can assure you, Your Highness, it has not improved in the last decade to warrant her a viable heir.”

I stared at him, then shook my head slightly. “I am human, I cannot-”

“You are the only one who can lead us.” The General snapped, his voice raising with each word. “If you do not sign this contract, and the King dies-” A shudder went down my spine at the word “-the Kingdom will be thrown into a bloody civil war while various factions fight for the throne.” He took another step forward, looking more and more desperate. I craned my head back to look up at him. “The noble houses will tear each other to shreds, and the economy will fall into ruin. And your Peace Treaty will become null and void. Leaving the human Kingdom vulnerable to attack.” He reached out as if to grab my wrist, his face contorting into a pained snarl. “If you refuse to sign, you will be condemning both Kingdoms to chaos and-”

I smacked his hand away soundly, my stance instantly becoming guarded. I held the parchment out to the side, as if to keep him from reaching it. My eyes flashed hot and angry.

“Grier is NOT dying.” I told him, and couldn’t help the sharp edge to my voice. He searched back and forth across my face, and I pursed my lips. “... I will not sign.”

With that, I turned, dropping the contract on the nearest end table. As if it were a hot coal searing into the tender flesh of my fingertips. I heard a bustle of activity behind me, as the goblins all began to speak at the same time.

“You are dismissed.” I said coldly, ignoring their sputtering, pausing briefly at the door to the bedchambers. “All of you.”

I didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t leave room for one in my command. I simply shouldered open the door and pushed it closed quietly behind me. For a moment, I leaned against it, working hard to compose myself. From across the room, I could hear Grier’s labored breathing, and each breath stabbed like a knife into my chest. I took my own shuddering attempt at it, felt my knees wobble beneath me. I choked on the air I tried to force into my lungs, and shook my head stubbornly. By the time my skull did clear a little, there were no sounds beyond the door behind me. I let a heavy hiss of air pass through me, but it crackled audibly as it fell from my mouth.

As quietly as possible, I made my way over to the bed. Stumbling as the numbness in my chest reached my legs. An armchair had been pulled to his bedside, and I slowly lowered myself into it. Then dropped my face into my hands.

Why was this happening? What had I done wrong? I raked my brain over and over again. Going over every minute detail of the previous two days. Had it been our time in the village? Or had the sickness already spread to the castle by the time we had arrived? Perhaps Lord Tipp had been a carrier. Grier had never told me how he got rid of the irritating noble. A great hook jabbed into my heart as a flash of memory reminded me of the little girl in the lower city who had hugged me. Then later that same day, Grier had also…

I rubbed at my face, then ran my hands over the back of my neck. It didn’t matter how anymore, I told myself. And there was no way to know for sure. I tried to push it aside, sneaking a glance at the goblin out the corner of my eye. He shifted slightly, as if sensing my gaze. Though I knew the draught the Healer had given him would keep him in a deep sleep for some time yet. I swallowed my anxiousness, sitting up and reaching over to pluck a washcloth from beside the basin set on the bedside table. Needing to do something to stave off the helplessness that threatened to overwhelm me. As soon as I leaned over him, I could feel the heat pouring from his body. It set the ache back into my chest, but I gritted my teeth and pushed his hair back out of his face. Gently, I dabbed at the sweat lining his brow. He sighed in his sleep, turning slightly, but otherwise laying still. I watched the shape of his eyes move beneath his lids, and wondered what he was dreaming about. If he was dreaming at all.

I stroked the cloth down the side of his face, tracing the edge of his jaw distractedly then down his damp neck. They had dressed him sparingly, with only linen trousers, and had laid him on top of his heavy blankets. A thin sheet covered him to keep off any drafts, but the soft fire that snapped in the small fireplace at the edge of the room kept his chambers warm. Bathing them in a dim orange glow. The enchantment on my eyes struggled with the shifting lights, playing games with the shadows at the edges of my vision. I paused, lingering with the cloth poised by his cheek again. My thumb came out, and I brushed the pad gently across his hot skin. My heart lurched in my chest, and I swallowed a painful lump.

I stood suddenly, dropping the cloth onto the edge of the basin. Unable to sit and watch him struggle to breathe. I blinked rapidly, then strode off. Only to halt a few paces away. Unwilling to leave him there alone. I hesitated, looking back over my shoulder. Torn in half by the two pains; one of seeing him in this state, the other of not being able to see him at all.

I stared at the ground blankly for a few minutes before my eyes actually saw the crumpled shirt there. Slowly, without thinking, I bent down and picked it up. The spicy sweet scent of him wafted off the cloth, and I had to resist the urge to bring it to my nose. Instead, I folded it, carefully and delicately. Then looked around. A small basket of washing seemed to be by the door… I paced over to it slowly and placed the shirt inside. Another glance found a pair of trousers just shy of the basket. I took those up and folded them as well. Then another shirt. Then… a jacket, I supposed, though it was hard to distinguish based upon what seemed to be an extra sleeve.

Soon I found myself organizing and sorting the other various items in the room once the clothes had all been piled in the basket. I ran my hands over each, imagining what Grier might have to say about it. Wondering how he had come upon it, or what significance it had to him. I fabricated a few stories to entertain myself as I worked my way around the room. There was certainly no small supply of things to resituate and reorganize. I found some semblance of order amid not only the chaos of his personal belongings, but also the chaos swirling in my head. I let my mind wander, thinking hard and deeply for a long, long time as I worked. Returning to the bed every little while to reach out and reassure myself I was not imagining the strangled breathing, and that Grier was still there…

...

“Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw you?” Came the weak voice from the bed.

I spun, nearly dropping the small chest I was holding. Beady red eyes peered at me from amid the billowous blankets. My breath skittered from my throat, and I was hard pressed to draw in a new one with how tightly it constricted behind the first.

“You should be resting…” I told him, placing the chest quietly back on the table. It was the first time he had opened those scarlet eyes of his all day, and I couldn’t help but move to the bedside despite my words. “I-I’m sorry if I woke you.”

He gave me a small, feeble smile. “Did I?”

Slowly, I sat in the chair beside him, leaning over my knees to better make out his quiet voice. “... Did you what?”

“Ever tell you?” He pressed.

His voice was thin and breathy, as if each word took the entirety of his lung capacity to speak. I shook my head carefully, glancing down at my hands in my lap.

“... You mean in the throne room? When I came-”

Now it was his turn to shake his head, and he did so sluggishly. “No. That was the second time.” My eyebrows raised, and he grinned a little more, still half the strength of even his smallest usual smile. “The first time… must have been almost three years ago.”

“... Wh-what do you mean?” I stammered. “W-we… It’s only been maybe a month-”

He hummed softly, and his eyes drifted closed. But his hand moved, reaching out from beneath the covers until the fingertips brushed my knee near the side of the mattress. I glanced down at them, and my heart skipped. At first, I thought perhaps he had fallen back asleep. Then his soft voice petered from between his thin lips again.

“I had been told there was a Prince at the frontlines. Though the messenger couldn’t say for sure which Prince… I assumed not the Crown Prince. He rarely left the castle…” The corners of his mouth twitched into a tiny smirk, and he mumbled around its shape. “We didn’t know much about the human Royals then. Only that the King had three children. Two of them Princes… it had never been anything we cared to know more about.” His eyes cracked back open, and he rolled them to look up at me. “I insisted on going to see. No one could talk me out of it.” His teeth flashed beneath his lips briefly. “... I can be very stubborn.”

The goblin moved his fingers again, grazing against the folds of fabric on my pant leg. I noticed beads of sweat beginning to drip down his brow again. Noticed his wild hair was nearly plastered flat to his scalp. I turned, plucking the cloth from the water basin on the end table. I squeezed it out, then gently dabbed at his forehead. He sighed tiredly as the cool cloth touched his skin, and his eyes drooped closed again. I rolled the cloth over the back of his neck, and pushed his hair out of his face. I could feel the heat still pouring off him, and it set the ache in my chest throbbing once more. Though that hadn’t let up since that first morning a few days prior.

“Damjan and his lieutenant escorted me,” He continued, and I almost started at the sound of his voice, I had been so lost in my thoughts, “To the crest of a hill, right at the disputed boundary. They cast so many defensive spells and charms on me, the air felt electric… Still, they had me keep low, out of sight, and we were… a few hundred yards away?”

“Shhhh.” I told him, refreshing the water on the cloth and wringing out the excess again. “...Save your strength.”

He ‘hurmphed’ softly, his only acknowledgement of my words before he promptly ignored them. “There was… a thin line of trees lining a trail that ran parallel to us… They looked like... like twigs… it was autumn, so there were no leaves, and everything was grey and bland and…” His voice faded weakly. I could hear the dryness, and returned the cloth to the basin.

“Here.” I told him, scooping my arm gently beneath his shoulders and propping him up as I brought a goblet of warm, watered-down broth to his lips. He sucked at it greedily, but only managed half before he fell back against my arm. I slowly lowered him to the pillows as he licked at his lips.

“... I had never seen so many humans in one place before. They all looked… broken. Worn and battered. Covered in mud.” He continued, and his eyes sought mine as I settled back into my seat. “Most were limping… I could almost smell the blood on the air.” He blinked slowly, and his gaze became distant as he fell into the memory. “I remember thinking… that they looked like they were behind bars… because of the trees and shadows… And they trudged single file down this muddy stretch. Those that could, anyway. All but indistinguishable from one another.”

I was surprised by the vibrancy of the scene he described, and more surprised to find it a familiar one. I had a pretty good idea of the time he was talking about; and my heart dropped at the memory. It had been a long trek back from the front. Defeated, discouraged. Injured and weak. I wracked my brain to try and think of the particular day, as they all blended together. I had been so lost in my sorrow then... Goosebumps shot across my skin to think there had been an audience during that solemn trudge. My brow furrowed as I recalled it, and I glanced at him sidelong. Wondering where this was going.

“...I was told we had missed the Prince. We’d have to move further up the line if I wanted to see him… because there was no way he would be with the injured men below. Damjan was positive we wouldn’t see him at all.” He sighed weakly, his head lightly tossing to and fro. “There was no glory. No fanfare or bright banners. Just blood, and filth, and mud, and…. Nothing for a Prince, he had said.” He sighed again, his breath even thinner. “Damjan sent his lieutenant to scout ahead. To try and find out if the Prince was further up. But I stayed to watch… I was… horrified by what I saw. I don’t think…” His eyes closed briefly. “I don’t think I had ever really… understood what the war meant. Until that moment.”

“...Grier…” I started to protest, readying an argument for him to save his strength again.

“Then, one of them fell.” He persisted, still ignoring me, his face scrunched. “There was a lot of shouting… we couldn’t make it out from where we were… chaos and noise and...” Suddenly his eyes came back, and he looked over at me, a small light in their scarlet depths. “And then… then you were there… You came up from somewhere near the back of the line. I didn’t realize who you were at first. Damjan had to point you out… I saw the men fall silent and part like water to let you through. No bowing, no fanfare. Just… quiet respect.” I flushed, starting to shake my head. His hand came out, and I glanced at it as it lingered next to my knee again. When I checked his face, his eyes were closed. As if to see the moment more clearly. “You were nearly as muddy as they were, but I think you were wearing a different color than them. I couldn’t see your face though. You had your back to us…” His voice petered out again, and he gave a breathy sigh.

As the silence stretched for a breath too long, I reached out. Tentatively brushing my fingers against his wrist. As if to assure myself he was still there. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and I struggled to keep myself from being overwhelmed by the pang of sadness that sight brought. His hand slowly closed around my fingers, and I ached at the weakness of them.

“Within moments, you had organized the chaos… You sent someone for… a healer, I’m guessing. But you crouched down next to the fallen man. Called for water… wiped the mud from his face with your sleeve…” I slowly turned my hand in his, listening quietly to his words. I couldn’t remember the day he was talking about. Not specifically… there had been many such moments. I tried to remember the trees, and the hills. I started to shake my head again. He gave my fingers a feeble squeeze, stilling me. “And then…” He drew in a sharp breath, and a smile split his lips slowly, his eyes opening. “And then you turned… and… And I swear it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds…”

“Grier…” I mumbled again, uncertain what else to say, my ears hot.

“I decided it.” He declared softly. “Right then and there… I decided to end the war… I saw your face and…”

“Y-you should get some rest.” I stammered, and carefully began to untangle his fingers from mine. “... You’re not making any sense.” I shook my head a final time. “You act as though you were looking for me.”

“I was.” He breathed, nodding groggily. “I wanted to see you.”

I frowned down at him, but his eyes were struggling to stay open. I pushed his hair back out of his face one more time and tucked his hand against his body. My lips burned with questions. Instead, I sat back in my chair, watching him quietly for a moment as he fought with the fever that dragged at his consciousness.

“Sleep.” I told him. “... W-We can… we can talk more when you’re better.”

He scoffed groggily at that. Then his eyes fluttered shut. And I was left alone with just my thoughts and his ragged breaths to fill the silence.

....

“Your Highness,” Came Hibik’s soft voice, “The Princess is here to see you.”

I nodded dumbly, rubbing a hand across my face and moving to stand with as much care as if each of my joints were made of glass. I glanced back over at Grier as the smaller goblin came deeper into the room.

“I will stay with him, Your Highness,” Hibik assured me gently, “You can see your sister. And get a real night’s sleep.”

I said nothing for a moment, simply watching Grier without moving. But the King was still sleeping, despite the voices around him. It had almost been two days since the last time he had woken… Finally assured that was still the case, I turned back to Hibik.

“... I’ll be back after I speak with Morgana.” I told him.

“Your Highness, you need to rest too-”

I shook my head. “You need not concern yourself, Lord Hibik.” I assured him. “I am fine.”

Hibik looked me up and down. “... Your Highness, you have been at his side since he first… I-it’s been days. You have barely eaten-”

I waved him into silence. “Keep an eye on him. I will return shortly.”

Morgana bounced excitedly to see me again, but quickly remembered where she was and became more solemn. Hibik had lit the candles and fireplace of the King’s foyer, and there was plenty of space to sit now that I had begun to properly clear it all. I had even sorted through the huge armchair of discarded clothes and sent everything off to be carefully washed. Apparently he had a large closet off his bedroom, though one would’ve been hard pressed to tell based upon the state of his wardrobe scattered across the rest of his rooms. My sister skipped over and gave me a hug, which I returned distractedly. My eyes lingering on a familiar piece of parchment, still where I had left it on the end table after Hibik had given it to me to read...

“I brought you some uyapik,” she told me, pulling a wadded up handkerchief from her pocket, spotted with grease, “And a story to read.”

I turned back to her and ran a hand over the top of her head. “Thank you, chickadee. You are very sweet.”

She led us over to the armchair facing away from the bedroom door and sat me down. Then stood with her hands on his hips until I had eaten both uyapik to her satisfaction, before carefully climbing onto my lap. I wrapped my arms gently around her, and she pulled out the book as she rested her head in the crook of my neck.

“Is Grier getting better?” She asked me softly as I flipped through the pages to the spot she had bookmarked for us.

I stiffened slightly at her words, then swallowed a lump in my throat. “... He hasn’t gotten worse, at least, chickadee.” I replied honestly, my voice thin. I pushed her hair back out of her face. “... How is Safa? Is she taking good care of you?”

I heard the smile in her voice as she responded. “She’s very silly. She tells me all kinds of fun stories, and we’ve been all over the castle.” She said. “But she insists on wearing these big poofy dresses, and she can’t move very quickly. And she always wants to play with my hair. She says it’s very thick and soft and pretty. I told her only you can do my hair. I don’t like when anyone else does it.”

“She sounds nice though.”

“... Can you come out with us, Niko?” She asked softly. “... Maybe Grier can come too. Safa says fresh air can be good for sick people. Maybe it’ll help.”

I gave her a weak squeeze. “I-I… I don’t so, chickadee… He’s needs his rest...”

“Oh…” She sounded so sad, I felt my eyes grow damp. It was too close an echo of my own sorrow.

“Perhaps you can bring him some flowers instead,” I suggested, trying to distract myself as well as her, “That would help, I am certain. Bringing a bit of the outside in.”

Morgana bounced a little, reaching up to ring her arms around my neck. “I can do that. I’ll get him the biggest, smelliest, most colorful flowers I can find.”

I buried my nose in her hair. “That sounds wonderful, chickadee.”

“And I’ll bring you lilies, Niko,” She told me, “If goblins have lilies. That way you can feel better too.”

I choked back the tears again, and nodded. Letting her take the book from my hand in her usual impatience and flip through the last few pages to reach her bookmark. I listened quietly to her while she babbled, alternating between reading the passage and adding in her own flourishes. I even managed to close my eyes, leaning my cheek against the top of her head. I could almost forget when I was with her. Could almost pretend everything was still right in the world. Could pretend I didn’t constantly worry about what the future might have in store. For both of us now, I remembered with a stab of guilt, since I had brought her here with me. And I could almost remember that strange but lovely warm feeling I had been starting to enjoy before…

I almost missed the soft click click click on the stone floor marking someone’s approach.

“Well now, is this the Onsakin I have been hearing so much about? Pah!” Came the thin, wiry voice. “She looks just like you, mo shiba.”

I turned in surprise to see the Dowager Queen standing a few feet away, cane in hand. Quickly, I moved to stand, gathering up Morgana in my arms as I went. For her part, my sister looked curious, tilting her head to the side. I saw her taking in Morag’s voluminous skirts and dozens of jewelry bits and bobbles. She clutched the book to her chest as I slowly lowered her to the ground.

“Welcome back, Your Grace-” I greeted her respectfully, bowing as I placed Morgana back on her feet.

“Ina Morag, mo shibaba. I have told you this many times.” She tapped her cane on the floor to emphasize her point.

Morgana tugged on my tunic, glancing up at me and then back at Morag. The question lingering in her curious eyes.

“Ina Morag, may I present my sister, Princess Morgana Delarosa Marie of Geriveria.” I intoned, hoping my voice didn’t sound too heavy with my exhaustion. I rested a gentle hand on the top of Morgana’s soft hair. “Chickadee, this is Dowager Queen Morag.”

“Pah!” Scoffed Morag. “You shiba have such long names. I do not have the breath for all this!”

Morgana tugged on my tunic again. Shyly waving me down so she could whisper in my ear. “What does ‘dowager’ mean?”

I slowly straightened. “‘Dowager’ means she was married to the old King,” I explained, “This is Grier’s mother.” I pretended like I didn’t almost choke on his name.

“You’re Grier’s mother?” Morgana said a little louder, sounding fascinated, her eyes going wide.

Morag nodded. “Yes, Onsakin, I am his ina.” She cocked her head to the side, her jewelry jangling as she did. “I have been wanting to meet you since you arrived.” She tapped her cane on the floor angrily. “But this abhama has not brought you to me yet!”

“What does Onsakin mean?” My sister asked, swaying from foot to foot as her excitement began to build. Her little mouth moved over the strange word tentatively, forming each syllable with great care.

“Ah, it means, ‘Little Princess’, I believe.” I told her.

Morgana put her hands on her hips. “I am not little!” She scoffed, then stood a little straighter. “I’m taller than you!”

“Morgana!” I scolded, but it lacked any strength behind it.

“PAH!” Laughed Morag, tapping her cane again. “I like this one! She is like you, she has spirit! Mian’we boshta!“ I felt the corners of my lips twitch, longing to smile, but feeling far too heavy to manage. The Dowager Queen considered this, and her scarlet eyes flickered to the bedroom door. “... How is mo apawi?”

“... No better, Your Grace.” I murmured softly, dropping my eyes.

She let my slip go by unaddressed, giving a soft ‘hmm’ instead. It sounded so much like Grier’s, I had to ball my fists to keep the quiver from my hands. I still could not bear to meet her eyes. I felt Morgana’s hand wiggle between my clenched fingers, and she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. I returned it gratefully, but had not the strength for more than that. I felt the tickling edges of shame that my emotions and thoughts were apparently so plain to read, and swallowed nervously.

“He is strong, mo shibaba,” She assured me gently, then nodded herself, “He is young. He will pull through.” Her confidence seemed to wave momentarily, but then I felt her cane come out to tap the tip of my boot. “... He has a good reason to.”

“If you are Grier’s mother,” Morgana chimed in, “How come you are so small? Why is Grier so much taller than all the other goblins? Did you use magic to make him bigger?”

“PAH!” Morag laughed again. “Perhaps someone did put a charm on the boy. You should have seen that abhama when he was born, Onsakin. He was so tiny, you could fit him in your pocket.”

Her eyes lit up. “Really? Are all goblins that small?” She glanced up at me. “I thought maybe Grier’s mother might be an orc, like Damjan’s.” Her attention turned back to the Queen. “Was his father tall? Or did you really use magic?” I noticed her eyes narrow. “... You’re not an orc, right?”

Again, another melodic laugh. But in spite of its jovial ring, its familiarity stung. “PAH! No, Onsakin. I would be a very small orc indeed. They would have left me out in the cold as a child.” She rubbed her hands over her top of her cane. “His father was tall. Not so tall as your brother. But tall for a goblin.” She gave a toothy smile, sounding distant in memories for a moment. “And very handsome.”

“Apologies, Your Grace,” I interrupted before my sister could launch any more questions, “I am certain you came to see your son again. We will not keep you longer; I know you get tired easily-.”

“PAH!” She smacked my leg with her cane, just hard enough for me to jerk in surprise. Morgana giggled. “Do not tell me what I am to do, mo shibaba. I came to see you.”

“You came to see Niko?” My sister asked, bouncing on her toes a little.

One slender eyebrow raised at her nickname for me. But then she gave a small nod. “Yes.” She tilted her head back to the side. “He does not sleep. He does not eat. That blasted fool Damjan is worried, as is Hibik. As is Seoc, and Paye. And all the other lives you have touched since you first came here. They whisper of you in the halls.” She nodded again. “It has reached my ears.”

I stiffened again, feeling a slight flush at my collar at her implications. “I can assure you, Your Grace, I-”

I jumped onto one leg with a soft shout as her cane came out to whack me again. “Ina Morag, abhama! PAH! I have told you this.” Her scarlet eyes became hard. “You need to sleep, apawi shiba mo. To eat. You cannot wither here.”

“You can come with me, Niko,” Morgana put in, tugging on my hand lightly, “We can go to the gardens, then you can take a nap in the sun, and Safa and I can make you a picnic. It will make you feel much better!”

I glanced at both of them. Then over their heads at the door to Grier’s bedchambers. It felt like it loomed. A hollow shadow, and staring at it made the edges of my eyes tingle. I swore it shifted and warped as I watched, and I adjusted my tongue in my mouth. I realized belatedly that the two were talking still, and blinked stupidly at them. Trying to sort through what they were saying. It seemed to be some sort of plan for me; getting a bath, some fresh clothes. A shave. Morgana insisted I would sleep better out in the gardens, but was persuaded by Morag that could be saved for another day. Their banter was light hearted and quick; a stark contrast to the slow thrum of my own mind. I heard their words distantly, my mind wandering back to the dark room beyond the door...

“... I’m fine where I am, though I thank you both for your concern.”

The pair fell silent at my flat and formal words, spoken in the middle of some exchange I hadn’t fully comprehended nor bothered to register. I felt Morgana tug at my hand again, and looked down at her belatedly. Realizing she had done so more than once already. Her hazel eyes were wide, and her little bottom lip quivered. She stomped her foot softly.

“You’re my brother, Niko! I’m tired of sharing you!”

Had I been able to feel any part of my body at that moment, rather than feeling like a head detached and floating around, I might have winced at her words. Instead, I managed to find some command of my palm, bringing it up to cup her cheek gently. I tried a dozen words in my mind, tossing each aside almost as soon as they occurred to me. I thought to tell her that I wanted nothing more than to go to the gardens with her. Or have her tell me another story. To do anything and everything to make her happy... I thought to try to explain that the thought of leaving his room for more than a few minutes made me feel like I was falling apart. And had I been given the choice, I would’ve traded places with Grier in an instant. He would have managed all this much better than I…

“Pah!” Exclaimed the Dowager Queen, tapping her cane against the floor. “We’d best leave this one be, mo Onsakin.” She told her, and my sister glanced over her shoulder at the Queen, her pout still in place. “Sometimes it is better to wear away at stone slowly when you want to polish it...” Her scarlet eyes darted to my face. “Elsewise it might just shatter instead.”

I didn’t want to meet Morag’s eyes, as grateful as I was for her understanding. I was too afraid of the soft familiarity of them sending my heart into a deep ache again. Instead, I pushed Morgana’s hair out of her face, pulling her attention back to me.

“Why don’t you go with ina Morag for a little while?” I told her, then felt my gaze drop to the side sadly. “I-I think she’d be much better company than me right now.”

Morgana tugged on my hand again, her face starting to scrunch up. “No! I want to play with you, Niko!”

Again, when I found myself at a loss for words, uncertain how to calm my sister’s growing agitation, it was Queen Morag who came to my rescue.

“Tch, child!” She scoffed, and Morgana looked over her shoulder at her again, her nose all pinched. “The boy is sick too, can’t you tell?” She tilted her head to the side, making her many glittering bobbles jingle and clink. “Don’t you think if he could, your brother would like nothing more than to be with you?”

That gave Morgana pause, and she looked me over almost curiously. “You’re sick too, Niko??”

I started to shake my head, but made a soft exclamation of surprise instead as Morag’s cane smacked my calf. My sister’s face twitched out of her irritation slightly at the sound.

“Of course, Onsakin!” She declared. “Your ibu is sante’fet. He cannot be anything else while his manwe is unwell.”

Morgana considered her, taking in the strange words she spoke with a thoughtful ear. “... He can’t?” She hesitated, then looked sidelong up at me. “... What does all that mean? Is that some weird grownup thing?”

“Your Grace, I-”

“INA MORAG, suit abhama!” She snapped at me, as did her cane, and I yelped again. This made Morgana giggle once more. The former Queen turned to my sister, nodding her head conspiratorially. “Come, Onsakin. I will tell you more. I know a great many secrets, you know.” She gave me a very similar sidelong look as my sister’s, and my brows shot up slightly at the sight. “More than this abhama, I am certain.”

I saw the curiosity in my sister’s matching hazel eyes and she squeezed my hand indecisively as the Queen started to make her way out of the foyer. At the main door, the old goblin paused, looking back before giving a jerk of her head to further entice Morgana.

“... Ok Niko… Maybe we can play later…” She told me after a moment. She tugged my hand, and I obediently dropped down to her so she could give me a hug. “... Feel better soon. I’ll come back to check on you and I’ll bring you those flowers.”

“Thank you, Chickadee.” I replied softly, returning her hug gently.

It was all I could manage. Not even a proper goodbye, or gratitude to the Dowager Queen for soothing my sister and entertaining her when I couldn’t even manage any semblance of a smile. I lingered where they had left me, having accidentally gotten trapped in the red glimmer of Morag’s eyes as she left. And feeling as if my heart was ripped from my chest at the almost familiar sight.

Slowly, I straightened, making my way sluggishly back to the King’s bedchambers. I dismissed Hibik distractedly. He said something to me, but I didn’t hear it. Didn’t hear anything but the sound of something in my chest cracking as I settled back into the armchair beside the bed.

I stared at the ground between my feet for a long time. When I had finally built enough courage to look over at the sleeping goblin in the bed beside me, I instantly found it shattered back to pieces as soon as I laid eyes on his quivering, sweaty form. Half buried amid oversized and overstuffed blankets and pillows. Shuddering and shivering with each breath. My eyes burned, but I stubbornly pushed that aside. Desperate to return to a statue, and feeling like I was trying to stick each piece of my walls together with sand.

The memory of his mouth came unbidden to my mind as I stared, my eyes drifting around his face. I remember the last time I had felt his against mine… A sloppy morning kiss, almost three days ago now… I felt a heavy weight inside me as I suddenly feared that was the last kiss we would ever share… Not even a proper kiss. One I had been too shy to return...

That anguish heavy on my heart, I stood, stubbornly, then bent over the bed. Reaching out with faltering fingers to skim along his jaw. I pushed back his damp hair, saw his eyes flicker beneath his lids as I leaned down...

It was like kissing stone, and as soon as I lightly pressed our lips together I regretted it. Regretted that this was now the memory etched into me. Not his warmth. Not the taste of his smile. Just something clammy and still... I fell into the armchair, dropping my face into my palms. It was too much… I couldn’t… I shivered, then swallowed hard. Trying to steady myself. Trying to push away the fear that maybe… maybe he wouldn’t get better after all… and the fear of realizing exactly why that thought hurt me quite as much as it did...

....

I stirred at some point, dragging from the listlessness of sleep. Pulling my head out of the realm of dreams and floating back down to my corporeal form sitting in the armchair like a feather falling onto the still surface of a pond. For a long moment, I forgot where I was. I didn’t remember falling asleep. Perhaps at some point the numbness had simply dragged me from my consciousness, but I didn’t know when that had been. My eyes blinked, adjusting magically to the dark of the room. I wasn’t sure how I could tell; perhaps it was the strange heaviness of the air. Or some quality of its stillness. But I knew it was late.

The ragged breath of the King sent a shiver down my spine, and I looked over at him in the bed beside my chair. I sighed quietly, rubbing a hand at my face. My limbs were weighed down by unseen lead chains, and struggled to pull air into my lungs. When my hand finally dropped, I started slightly as I found a pair of bright red eyes now watching me. I recovered, straightening myself.

Y-you’re awake...” My voice barely above a whisper as if to preserve the stillness blanketing us. Depending on what day it was now, it had nearly three days now since he had last opened his eyes. “... How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” He mumbled, then blinked a few times sluggishly. “Heavy… Waterlogged.” A soft, petering sigh, then his eyes flicked back to me. “... Have you been there this whole time? How long has it been?”

I cleared my throat quietly, shifting. Casting my gaze away from him. “I-I just… I wanted... ” I swallowed hard, thumbing my palm. “I-I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“... Nikostratus,” He breathed my name like the first lungful of cold air after a warm cabin, and I jerked at the sound, “... I need you to promise me something.”

I was already shaking my head before he finished. “No.”

“Nikost-”

“Don’t.” I snapped, a little harsher perhaps then I intended. My eyes jumped to his, and I shook my head again before dropping them away once more. “I-if you start trying to… t-to…” I pressed my thumb into my palm until it stung. “... Don’t start talking like… like you’re not going to get better.”

He drew in a deep, wheezing breath. “...I might not-”

“Don’t.” I said, a little louder now.

“I don’t want to ask this of you.” His voice sounded pained, and not just from the effort it took for him to draw in each breath. “Gods know… you’ve had enough weight dropped on your shoulders… but I need to… I need to think of my Kingdom too…”

I shook my head once more. “I-I’m not a goblin… I’m not a King-”

“You are the most honorable and trustworthy man I know.” He wheezed, and his hand came out towards me. “...But in the end it’s your decision. I won’t demand it of you…I won’t even ask it of you... just promise me you’ll make sure my people… our people, are taken care of.”

“I’ll promise you nothing.” I almost growled, my voice harsh. “Because then everything would be settled and taken care of and-” I stopped short, my words choking me. “And you…. Y-you…”

“My young Prince,” He murmured weakly, both hands reaching for me now, “My sweet Prince… come here… please… I don’t have the strength to charm you into my arms,” a small, wry grin flicked at the corners of his lips, “So I suppose I’ll just have to swallow my pride and beg.”

I didn’t have the will to deny his request, nor did any small part of me even want to try. I crumpled forward, dropping heavily out of the chair to my knees beside the bed. His hands cupped my face, tracing along it weakly. I shivered beneath his touch, squeezing my eyes shut. With the feeblest of tugs, he pulled at me and I obediently sank down to him, letting him wrap his arms around my neck. Letting him bury me in his chest as I bent over him. Drawing in the scent of his sweat slicked body and feeling his ragged breath on the top of my head. I brought one hand up, hooking on his arm as if to free myself. But it fluttered and lingered there instead.

“Y-you can’t do this to me…” I gasped against him suddenly, feeling my eyes start to burn as a sharp heat bubbled in my chest, “You can’t… you can’t leave me now… I can’t…”

“... You’ll be alright.” He told me softly. “You’re clever, and strong-”

“I don’t want to be strong!” I snapped. “I’m tired of being strong!” My hands grabbed at his shoulders roughly, tugging him a little closer. My grip faltered and fluttered as I remembered the state of him, and I gave a shuddering breath. Burying myself deeper into his embrace. “I-I… I can’t… I can’t do this again…”

His arms tightened around me, and I heard his breath shudder against my ear. His hand came to the back of my head, and I felt him stroking it weakly. So softly I thought I might shatter. My heart threatened to do the same.

“I… I have so much left I want to tell you… but … there’s one thing I need to tell you… one you deserve to know.” He murmured softly. “... I need to tell you how… how I found you…”

I would have drawn back to look at him, but suddenly felt as weak as he was. So I laid limply in his arms. Listening to the ragged air pass through his lungs.

“A few years back... There was a young man… barely in his twenties if even that…” He explained in his thin and wheezing voice, “... He was badly wounded when we found him at the border… delirious… Half-dead already… The soldiers there did what they could for him, but he was… he was saying something they thought might be of import.” He took a deep, steadying breath. “They sent him to me.”

“... What was he saying?”

“He told us…” I felt his hesitation, and a strange weightless dread spreading through me at his reluctance. “He told us… he had loved a Prince…” I stiffened sharply, every muscle in my body becoming steel. “...And that for that crime… he had paid with his life.”

I jerked away from him, sitting up on my knees. My heart racing, my head pounding. I stared down at Grier, slack jawed and dumbstruck.

“... I should have told you sooner. But I… I don’t know who he was to you. I-if he was anyone...” He stammered feebly. “And for the longest time, we thought he was just… just delirious. He never said his name, or anything else for that matter. Nor did we know what Prince he was talking about… We didn’t know where he was from… or how he had gotten there…”

I was lost in my memories for a long moment. Lost in dark hair and bright eyes. Soft skin and a wiry frame. And pain. So much pain I thought I might shatter from it. My walls started to raise, my shoulders stiffened. Seeking to defend my heart from that fate. I fought through the numbness that nearly overwhelmed me. Something about what he said was nagging me though. Snapping at the edges of my mind. Poking holes in the walls I tried to build. I blinked a few times, trying to steady myself. Trying to sort through my emotions and come back to just the words. I wondered if the click was as audible as it felt when the pieces fell into place.

“... Half-dead?” I breathed. “Y-you said he was wounded? Half-dead?” I shook my head. “N-no, that can’t be right… It couldn’t have been him… It wasn’t him… You found someone else.”

“Nikostratus… I-I’m so sorry-”

“He died?” I cut him off abruptly, my voice thin as it pressed through the tiny opening that was left of my throat. “... Did… Did he suffer?”

Grier’s hand came to mine on the bed, and he shook his head weakly. “We couldn’t save him… but he didn’t suffer. We made sure of that.”

Just like that, the walls I had been trying to build imploded. Crumbling into hundreds of pieces around my heart. Without their protection, the emotions slammed into me. I stared down at our hands numbly for a long time. My heart ached, my head throbbed. There was an extended silence, while I tried to process everything suddenly hitting me full force. While I tried to pull the knife from my chest just enough to pull in a breath. It was too heavy. All of it. I couldn’t hold it... I felt my lips working to release the pressure; tasted the sound of my words even though I had not willed them forth.

“... I thought I was...” I told him, my voice whisperingly soft, “I-I thought… H-he was… He was my second… on the frontline…” I shifted, still kneeling beside the bed and staring at his hand on mine. “H-he… he was k-kind… and sweet… and s-soft…” My voice broke and I started to shake. “He… W-we drank too much… we forgot where… w-where we were… just for one night... it was just one night… and… and I… I-I forgot… I forgot who I was…”

“... Nikostratus…”

I squeezed his hand, then clamped my eyes so tightly shut I was seeing sparks behind my lids. “I-I thought I had… I th-thought he would… but… b-but he came back again…” I choked on a sad laugh. “He tried to come back w-when he knew we could… wh-when he thought we could be alone again… b-but… but…” I took a shuddering breath, unable to stop my confession. “They... th-they thought he was trying to… to leave... T-to desert… they-they caught him in the larder… they brought him to me ‘red handed’... t-to pass judgement...” I pulled my hand back, despite his attempt to catch it as I fled. He was too weak to pin me there, and his touch burned my shame deeper into me. But I met his eyes, my own rimmed with a redness to match his irises. “Th-the punishment for desertion i-is… is death-” I choked again, and shook my head fervently.

“... What happened?”

“I-I… I couldn’t... “ My lips were shaking so hard, the words refused to form properly on them. “I-I couldn’t tell… I couldn’t t-tell them… I let… so I let them…” I shook my head again. “Bread, Grier! H-he was just getting extra bread for us… f-for me… He was sweet… He was … so naïve… so hopeful… he… h-he was… and… a-and they wanted me to… t-to… to… they expected me to...” I closed my eyes again, and felt the tears drip down the corners. “I-I was t-too… too ashamed… I was t-too weak to… to tell them… to explain…”

“It’s alright,” He murmured, and reached to pull me down again, “It’s not your fault.”

I jerked away from his touch. “I-I couldn’t… I had to… I should have… I know I… b-but… I couldn’t… I-I… I was... afraid… I was… I was s-so… I was so afraid...” I looked away from him, resting my elbows on the mattress and burying my face in my palms. “B-but… but I couldn’t let them… let them...“

“What happened next?” He pressed softly.

“I-I… I made a Royal Decree…” I gushed, “R-right then and there… I-I looked at him… I met his eyes… and… a-and I pretended I didn’t… I-I didn’t…” Again I choked, but shook my head, forcing the words out. “... I-I changed the law… and I banished him… o-on penalty of death, should he ever return… The fate for all deserters… f-from that day on…”

“... You saved him.”

“I betrayed him!” I gasped. “I-I looked him right in the eye, and… and when he needed me most… I pretended h-he was… he was n-nothing to me…” I dropped my head to the mattress, squeezing the back of my head with my hands. “The King was fur-furious that I had changed the law… and Gareth…” The name hitched in my throat. “... He knew… I could see it… in-in his eyes… He knew the truth…” I turned my head, so that I could look at him, even though my eyes were still damp and my throat still burned. “A-and now... And now you want me to… t-to…”

Grier’s hand came out, and he cupped it weakly against my jaw. “It’s not your fault-”

“H-how is it not?” I cut him off again, my words slurred and broken. “He had a family, He… He cared about me… he trusted me and I… and I-I…” I dropped a hand on top of his at my cheek. “And now you… y-you’re sick because of me… you’re sick because you tried to do something nice for me… A-and because… Because I let myself be... B-because I started to believe…”

“It’s not your fault.” He wheezed, and his fingers curled feebly around my jaw. Catching behind my ear. “Whatever happens, it’s not your fault. You deserve to be happy, Nikostratus.”

His hand tugged at me gently. I quivered, but let him pull me into his arms again. His palm slowly stroked at the back of my head. I slipped my own hands up, gripping his shoulders. I trembled beneath his touch, the feel of his hot fingers weakly tracing along the curve of my skull. The irony was not lost on me; that a man who may very well be on his deathbed was comforting me. It should be the other way around. I should not be pitching him my sorrow. I should be making this easier for him. I should be caring for him; I had spent my life putting others before myself, why couldn’t I now? Why was this time so different? So hard? I laid my cheek against his bare chest, feeling his damp skin against my face. My eyes pinched shut as they filled, burning as my throat closed up. A dark shadow loomed over me, enveloping my body in a hollow, unrequited misery. I felt his arms slowly wind further around me as the first tears dribbled down my cheeks and pooled on his chest. I tried to hold still, tried not to let my shoulders quake with the weight of my grief and guilt… I failed. And sobbed quietly against him.

“It’s alright… You’re safe here… It’ll be ok…” He murmured, and I buried my face deeper into his chest. Shaking my head. He stilled me with a soft ‘shhhh’. “I love you, Nikostratus. Nothing else matters but that.”

“Loving me is a curse.” I tried to pull back, but relented as his arms tightened, even weak as they were. “I should never have… I-I can’t…”

“If loving you is a curse, then it is one I will happily bear.” He breathed against the top of my head. “If loving you is a poison, I will drink every last drop, and writhe in agony for weeks. For years. Just to know this feeling for an hour.” He ran his thumb against my ear, and a shiver ran down my spine. “If your love is a dagger, I will plunge it deep into my chest until I can feel it in my heart. I don’t care what loving you is. Because it is mine. You are mine.”

“I-I’m not… Y-you can’t…”

“It’s worth it, Nikostratus. It’s worth every second. Having you here, with me…” His hot palm cupped my jaw. Running his thumb across the damp trail on my cheek. “Loving you… it is the best part of my life.”

I let him run his hands over my face and shoulders for a time. Feeling myself beginning to still once more. I felt empty, and hollow. A shell of my former self. I ran my own hand slowly over his shoulder. Numbly feeling the heat wafting off him and trying to push away what that meant.

“Y-you… I c-can’t… I can’t say… I won’t...” I tried to steady myself, breathing quietly for a time. “… I never got to say goodbye to him…” I murmured after a long while. “I-I always hoped he was… alive somewhere… happy, maybe…”

“... What was his name?”

I choked on my tears, shuddering slightly. “... Josep. His name was Josep Wolod… He was… he was 19…”

“And you?”

“... Maybe 22? I-I… I don’t remember.”

“You were both young.” His arms flexed weakly around me. “... You’re still young. They should never have…” I felt his swallow move through his throat and chest beneath my ear. “That you should be asked to condemn a boy to death...”

“I couldn’t do it… I never could…” I shivered again. “I-I banished him, b-but he was unharmed when… when…” My eyes widened even more, and the blood rushed from my face. I didn’t answer for several long, uneasy breaths.

“When what?” He coaxed.

“When… when I had Gareth escort him to the border…”

I felt him draw in as deep a breath as he was able, and his arms wrapped as far around me as they would go. “If I ever see that man again, I will kill him.”

The hate in his voice was unfamiliar to me, and felt as foreign as the raspiness in his chest. I stayed still for a long moment, letting the tears trickle down my cheeks. Forgotten trails of my sorrow for memories I had tried to bury. For a grief I had never let myself feel. I blinked slowly, giving a soft sniffle. Then gently pulled myself free.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t.” He rasped, fumbling for my hand. “Don’t apologize. Please, my young Prince... It’s not your fault.”

I wondered how much he would have to say that for me to ever have a hope of believing it. My chest ached dully at his words, and I closed my eyes for a moment to steady myself. Feeling raw and unnerved.

“I-I... I’ve kept you up too long… you need your rest.”

“I need only you.”

“Grier…”

“...Lay with me awhile?” He murmured, his eyes starting to blink languidly.

I was already shaking my head. “I-I shouldn’t… you need to sleep.”

“I sleep better… when you’re with me…” He replied, but let me gently lift his hand to place on his chest once more. I watched his scarlet eyes slowly work their way sluggishly up my body as I stood, until they met my gaze. “... You see it right? You understand it now?”

“... Get some rest.”

“No.” He grumbled, then slowly started to slide up onto his elbows. Weakly trying to prop himself up.

“Wh-what are you-”

“Lay with me.” He gasped, even as his arms shook beneath him. “I… I want to…” A pained look filled his eyes. “... I need to be near you...” I lurched forward, catching him before he collapsed from exhaustion. “I… I want to know you’re safe… I can’t sleep if...”

Slowly, I lowered him back into the pillows, my arms gently tucked around him. His long fingered hand came up, and he weakly skimmed it along my jaw. Wiping away the tear stains lingering there. My brow was tight, and I felt a powerful, painful throb in my chest at his touch. I caught his hand in mine, hesitating briefly. Then I pressed it against my cheek with the strength he lacked. I saw him smile, one so fragile I thought my breath might shatter it. I squeezed my eyes shut to dam the fresh pain that welled in them. I turned into his palm, even daring to place a gentle kiss in its center.

“Please?” He begged, his voice weak. “Lay with me?”

I couldn’t hide my wince at the fear in his voice. I kissed his palm again, then gently brushed his knuckles against my lips. Slowly, I opened my eyes, looking down at him. After another moment, I nodded, and his face flushed with relief.

“Only if you promise to sleep if I do.” I warned.

He agreed sluggishly, and I removed my boots and vest, then carefully crawled in behind him. The goblin quickly turned, tucking himself into my chest. It was like holding a small fire to myself, and I struggled not to flinch against him. I felt him sigh, felt him relax deeper into my chest. I hesitated before I dared wrap my arms around him. As carefully as if he might break into a thousand pieces. My heart thudded so loudly I worried it would keep him awake.

“... Do you see now?” He asked me groggily, his breath hot on the nape of my neck.

“Shhh.” I told him gently, bringing my hand to the back of his head. “You promised you’d sleep.”

A soft mumble of something incoherent escaped his thin lips. “... But-”

“Shhhhhh.” I hesitated, then carefully stroked my hand along his damp hair. “... I’m not going anywhere… Sleep now.”

.....

I woke to a quiet knock at the door, somehow having managed to fall into a sleep plagued with nightmares. I shifted, then looked down to find the goblin still tucked in my arms. His breathing was shallow and raspy, but rhythmic, and his eyes were closed. Another soft knock had me carefully slipping from his grip. Sliding to the edge of the bed to clamber quietly to my feet. His fever had retaken him, and he did not stir at my movement. I blinked away the last of my pain, wiping my face down with one heavy hand in case any lingered there. Gods, I felt so drained and tired...

I didn’t bother to don my boots or vest, adjusting my tunic and heading to the main door. Hibik and Seoc stood there, quiet sorrow listing in the corners of their eyes. I nodded to them, briefly wondering at what sight had greeted them in my own eyes, but feeling far too hollow to care.

“Your Highness,” Hibik dipped his head, “Apologies, but there is… a visitor. From the human court.”

I blinked at him stupidly, forgetting myself for a moment. “Who?”

They exchanged a glance. “... Sir Gareth, I believe is his name. He has asked to see you and the King.”

I must have looked… strange to them, based upon their reaction. It was as though he had heard us speaking of him… had heard my confession… Though I realized now I couldn’t even be sure how long it had been. Hours? Days? Logically, I knew the timing made sense. I could suspect his reasons for being here, nearly a week since we had left the castle I had grown up in. Yet I couldn’t help the anger that bit at me at the sound of his name. The goblins exchanged another look as I stiffened. Straightening my back. A small scowl formed on my lips, and I saw them latch onto that emotion amid the stone of the rest of my face.

“...Send him away.” I told them coldly. “I do not wish to speak to him.”

Another bow. “I would, of course, Your Highness,” Hibik murmured reverently, “But he insists he is here on official business.” He shifted nervously. “I can still have the guard escort him out, if that is your wish.”

I stared at him for a long moment. Trying to think amid the swirl of emotions that threatened to rip my chest open. After a long moment, I stepped back, pulling the door open and heading back to the bed chamber for my boots and vest.

“Your Highness,” Seoc bounded after me, and when I turned to face him, I found a fresh tunic, vest, and coat in his arms.

“Thank you, Seoc.” I told him appreciatively, though my voice tasted numb in my mouth.

I didn’t bother for modesty, hardly caring anymore, and stripped my old tunic before them to pull on the new. Seoc scurried for my brush as I did up the buttons on the vest and pulled on the coat. He quickly polished the toes of my boots as I scrubbed at my hair for a moment. I moved without thought, my actions those of someone else. As I passed the brush back to Seoc, my eyes lingered on the distant shape of the bed in the bedchambers beyond. My heart ached, and I felt the corners of my mask slip momentarily.

“... Stay with him.” I ordered Hibik. “Fetch me immediately if…” If anything changes. I finished silently, but didn’t dare to voice. If he wakes... Or makes a turn for the worse.

Hibik nodded solemnly, straightening slowly under the responsibility and trust I laid upon him. I turned and followed Seoc out into the hall. Down through the castle. To the main throne room.

I recognized it as soon as I entered, and looked about in a dreamlike daze. Had it really only been a month since the first time I had walked through those doors? I moved slowly over to the dais, standing at the foot of it. I stared at the pillows. The piles of gems and coins still strewn about. At the towering carved stone pillars. I remembered the first time I had stood there. Looking up at Grier, his face full of mischievous smiles and composed of a powerful air of command. I had been scared then, I knew now. He had terrified me. He had looked properly monstrous, the creature of nightmares we warned our children about. I remembered the room darker, more sinister. But now I saw the same braziers were lit as they had been then, and the entire hall was bathed in a warm glow. It was mostly stone, yes, but with the splashes of color the goblins were notorious for. And empty. There were no guards lining the chamber, though I knew they were likely just beyond the door. There were no attendants, no members of Court. I stood alone, returning to that seemingly ancient memory. I half expected to find cobwebs, the place felt so old to me. But it felt... familiar too. More comfortable than any room of my old castle...

There was a great creak as the main door opened, and I glanced over to watch Gareth be let into the chamber. A hot poker stabbed at the base of my spine, spewing its heat through my core. I squared my shoulders, waiting quietly as he approached. My mask already perfectly in place. Knowing the man I had once called ‘friend’ would not see more than a stone Prince before him.

He dipped into a bow, one tight with constraint. He looked older than I remembered. His face gaunt, his hair greying at the tips. There was an unkept scruff on his neck, and his shirt was ever so slightly askew. I eyed it disdainfully as he slowly raised.

“Your Highness,” He intoned, “Thank you for seeing me.” I watched his eyes dart about quickly before returning to me. “Shall we wait for His Majesty here, or are you to escort me to him?”

“Speak your business and be gone, Sir Gareth.” I told him coldly, ignoring his question.

Eyes flicked at that, and I saw his scowl at the edges of his lips. But he dipped his head respectfully none-the-less. “... I have come to fetch the Princess, Your Highness.”

Ice would have been warmer than the blood pulsing through me at that moment. “On whose authority?”

Another dip of his head. “By request of Crown Prince Valerianus.” He informed me. “He sends word. It is safe for her to return now. I am to bring her home.”

My jaw tightened, and I looked him over. My glare was biting, and I stared at him for so long in silence that he shifted. Moved weight from one wide foot to the other. I saw his hand rest instinctively on the hilt of his sword. My eyes narrowed. I knew this man. I knew this man better than he knew himself. I knew every twitch of his face, every short coming of his mask. I knew his mannerisms, his ticks. And now, I knew his thoughts, even as he sought to hide them from me.

“Do you think me a fool?” I asked him tonelessly.

His eyes flicked a little wider. “Y-Your Highness-”

“You are lying, Sir Gareth.” I neatly tucked my hands behind my back, squaring off with him. “Prince Valerianus would have sent word ahead. He would have sent a full royal escort for her. Not a single disheveled guard.”

“I can assure you,” He quickly returned, deciding to stick to his lie, “I am here on his Royal Highness’ authority.” I saw him work his jaw briefly before adding. “Would you incite a war? Keeping our Princess from us?”

“Take heed how you use your tongue, Sir Gareth,” I replied coldly, not taking his feeble attempt at bait, “Or I shall have it removed from your mouth.”

His eyes widened slightly at that, and he even fell back a step. But then he shook his head stubbornly. “I am here for-”

“You are here for yourself.” I interrupted, snapping back at him so sharply he recoiled from my words. “You were not sent by my brother. And if you were sent by the King I care naught.” I did not break my glare. “The Princess Morgana is staying with me.”

The color of his face began to shift as his anger boiled up in him. “You would deny a direct order from the King?? Your true King?”

“He has no authority here.” I replied. “And as he has disowned me as his son, he certainly has none over me.” I looked the old guard up and down. “If this was your feeble attempt to regain your favor with him, then you may return a continued failure and disappointment. Be gone from my sight, before I have you forcibly removed from it.”

Gareth changed tactics. “... Let me see her,” He said softly, “Let me see her, and tell her I miss her. Let me-”

“No.”

“Nikostratus, please-”

“You will not refer to me in such familiar terms,” My voice did not raise much in volume, but the authority in it made it sound as though it had, “I am Prince Nikostratus to you. And soon I will be King. You will afford me the respect due to my position and title. I will not warn you again.”

His eyes flashed red, and his scowl broke over his lips. “A King who lays beneath a King.” He spat disgustedly. “A lecherous pet for a foul beast.”

I barely kept my own anger from bubbling over, though my jaw clenched. “Get. Out.” I ordered through clenched teeth. “Now.”

“You were a good Prince!” He cried, his face still contorted in a mixture of rage and repulsion. “You were obedient, and respectable, you were-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. He returned the step he had lost, and took another closer. “These creatures have corrupted you,” He explained, his eyes bitter, “Please, Prince Nikostratus, if you ever cared for your Kingdom, if you ever once thought me a friend… we served together. We fought side by side-”

“Like Josep?” I snapped. His name felt like fire on my tongue.

Gareth froze, his eyes going wide before he could catch himself. I was nearly trembling with rage. My hands came to my sides, balled into fists so tight the knuckles were nearly white. I could see him thinking. Trying to ascertain what I knew. How I knew. I saw him glance about suspiciously, as if the answer lay in the shadows around us. The old guard slowly straightened, his features cold.

“... I did what I had to. To protect you.”

“To protect me from what, exactly??” I snarled, rage crackling through me. “Being myself? Being happy? Having any emotions at all??!” My voice was raising octave by octave now, and my brow furrowed heavily as heat coursed through my veins.

“Prince Nikostratus, you forget yourself,” He dared scold, “Remember your temper-”

“MY ANGER IS JUSTIFIED WHEN YOU MURDER A BOY IN COLD BLOOD JUST FOR BEING IN LOVE!” I roared, my voice thundering through the vast stone chamber. “And if you think that is a crime worthy of death, then you should have killed me too!”

I saw his hand move. I heard the snarl of his anger, saw the hate in his eyes. He stepped forward, and there was a SHIIIINK that echoed loudly around the chamber as he drew his sword. At the same time, I heard the slam of the wooden door as it was flung open and the guards charged in at the sound of my voice. But the rest was a blur. It was a blur as I stepped to the side. It was a blur as I dropped down, and drove my shoulder up. It was a blur as my hand swept out at the same time as my foot swept in. It was a blur as I twisted the lunging sword from his grasp and deftly spun it in my hand.

The next thing I knew, I was standing over him, the tip of his blade levied at his throat. His eyes were wide with fear and shock as he looked up at me from the ground where I had laid him low. The clanking of armor filled the room as the guard surrounded us, their own weapons drawn. Damjan was at my shoulder, his eyes dark with malice. Gareth’s own eyes darted about in a panic, a cold sweat breaking across his brow. His mouth fell open, and I saw him shake in fear.

“Y-Your Highness, please, I beg of you-”

“Gareth of Geriveria, for your crimes against King and Crown,” I saw him wince as I began, and pressed the blade in a little tighter, “... I banish you. On penalty of death, should you ever dare set foot in my Kingdom again... And should I ever have the misfortune of seeing you again,” I met his gaze with a steadfast rage and confidence, “I shall take your head myself.”

I tossed the sword to the side, and the guards swarmed in. Grabbing the old guard and hauling him to his feet. Beginning to drag him off at spear and sword point.

“Your Highness, please!” He cried over their shoulders, “Your father lies on his deathbed! He only wishes to see his child; the sickness has-”

“If that is true, then he has only his own stubborn pride to blame.” I shot back, unfazed, and did not budge from my spot until the man was dragged away.

Damjan shook his head at my shoulder, his face contorted in outrage. “Your Highness, if-”

“Make sure he is brought to the border unharmed, General,” I interrupted, and glanced over at him stiffly, “Escort him all the way to the capital if necessary. I would not have him made a martyr, or start another war for his sorry hide.”

That stopped whatever he had been about to say, and his brows shot up. Then he grinned eagerly, and bowed. “Once again, Your Highness, you prove wise beyond your years.” He replied reverently. “I shall be sure it is done.” He tilted his head to the side slightly as he rose. “Though I do hope the bastard is stupid enough to attempt to return.” He mused as he turned to march out after his guard. “I would like to put his ugly head on a pike myself.”

“...General,” I called after him, and the taller man paused, glancing back at me, “If what he said is true, about King Tibertius... I want to know.”

Damjan’s face grew stern, and he nodded. “As you wish, Your Highness.”

I felt my stamina quickly fading as Seoc bounded over, looking me over worriedly. I waved away his concern. “Bring me back to the King.” I told him. “And send word to my brother.” I continued as I followed him out the side door. “Let him know of the banishment. I have a feeling he shall issue one of his own in turn when he hears of the circumstances.”

A few moments later, my attendant bobbed and bowed. Wishing me a grateful farewell before darting off to do my bidding. I opened the main door, and at the sound, I heard Hibik raise from the seat in the chamber beyond. I met him in the foyer, already unbuttoning my jacket to slip it from my shoulders along with whatever of my strength remained.

“... How is he?” I asked softly, my previous rage draining from me so suddenly I felt light headed.

Hibik shook his head sadly. “I-I am afraid his fever seems to have returned in full force…” He glanced over his shoulder. “I can send for the Master Healer, but I am not sure-”

“There is no need.” I interrupted, slowly undoing the buttons on my sleeves to roll them up. “... I’ll take care of him.”

The goblin shifted from foot to foot, glancing over his shoulder again. “Your Highness, please, I beg of you to consider your own health and get some proper rest…”

I shook my head, then hesitated, looking off at some distant, unseen point beyond the floor at my feet. “... I thank you for your concern, Lord Hibik. But I will be fine. Though, I am most grateful to you for watching over him while I dealt with other matters.”

Hibik bowed deeply, murmuring his own soft platitudes, if hesitantly. Then turned to slowly take his leave. My eyes drifted to the end table, where the parchment still sat, a quill at its side. I sucked in a tight breath, and found myself moving as if through molasses, my feet carrying me over to it of their own accord.

“... Lord Hibik…”

I heard him pause at the door, saw him turn out the corner of my eye. But I was in a cloud of my own making as I slowly made my way over to the table. I couldn’t even feel the quill between my fingers. Couldn’t see the page even as I dipped the tip in ink and hovered it over the parchment. I hesitated, staring for a long, quiet moment. Then slowly… carefully… I signed my name beside Grier’s.

The goblin quietly came up beside me as I straightened. Gently taking the quill from my frozen hand, and easing the license delicately from the table. I watched numbly, then turned my gaze away. Unable to reconcile myself with what I had just done, and feeling a heavy weight on my heart for having done so.

“... It seems in poor taste to offer you congratulations, My Prince,” Hibik breathed softly, somberly, “But I will offer you my thanks… and my sincere hope that this remains only as an unneeded precaution…”

I nodded, still not looking at anything on this plane of existence in particular. I was already moving before he turned to make his way to the door, but heard it click closed behind him before I had made it into the bedchambers. I closed that door as well, slipping off my boots and lining them up neatly with the numerous other pairs of his where I had set them. I eased off my vest, folding that and tucking it neatly on the bureau, alongside his own vibrantly colored tops. I trailed my fingers over them as I untucked my tunic from my trousers, letting it flow long and loose. I made my way over to the bed, my feet heavy, my heart dragging behind me. Quietly, I climbed in, crawling up to his side and resting my back against the headboard. As if sensing me there, the King shifted, rolling sluggishly. I carefully lifted him, laying him across my stomach. His skin was so hot it was still uncomfortable to touch, but I let him slide his arms slowly around me anyways.

I reached for the cool cloth, dipping it in water and brushing it across his bare, sweaty back. He shivered against me, and a lung quaking cough erupted from him. I pulled his hair into a soft plait, carefully laying it over the pillows instead of his shoulders, pushing it out of his face. He sighed, settling against my torso. Still in the fits of his fever induced sleep. Slowly I stroked the cloth back and forth over his skin, my eyes burning.

I sniffled softly, then cleared my throat. “... W-we’re married now, Grier…” I told him, my breaking voice barely above a whisper. “... I guess that makes this our wedding night…”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even flinch at my voice. I closed my eyes, but was unable to dam the flow completely before one large fat tear rolled down my cheek.

...

UPDATE: Part Thirteen HERE

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