#I've wanted to write a LiS fic around it to be honest

[moonstruckme]

omg i'm SO obsessed with roommate james like you don't understanddddd 😭💗 i've been loving the shy reader fics so far i'm so excited to see more of them!! i don't know if this would make sense w/ shy reader so honestly just write it however you want but i would loooove to see something w/ roommate james where he has friends over but is always like talking about her and checking on her and everything and his friends are just teasing him about it hahaha i think it would be so fun!! anyway tysm and i hope you have a good day!!!

Hi sweetheart! I had this scene already written but I did implement a couple of the things you requested, hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Somehow, you’ve wound up basically in James’ armpit. 

“Falsehoods!” James is laughing, nearly shouting, but you get the sense one needs to yell a bit to communicate in this friend group. Everyone except Lily and Remus, that is, for whom the others seem to quiet reflexively every time they start to speak. “Lies and falsehoods! If I recall, I wasn’t the one who left a pot in the sink for so long it grew mold.” 

“It wasn’t my pot!” Sirius defends himself, propping himself up on Remus' shoulder to make his point. He’s somehow managed to recline on the arm of your couch, his boyfriend’s arm wrapped cautiously around his waist to keep him from slipping off. “You cooked pasta in it and then forgot!” 

“Y/n,” says Lily, sitting across her girlfriend’s lap, “blink twice if you need help.” 

Mary laughs, hooking her hands under Lily’s knees to pull her closer and then intertwining their fingers. This is another thing you’ve noticed about James’ friends: they have a tendency to pile. Not even necessarily with their respective significant others and seemingly regardless of the seating available; last time you came home Sirius was half across James’ lap and Lily and Remus were sitting together on the rug as if the rest of the couch wasn’t empty. 

You laugh too, self-consciousness making you slip further down James’ side when the others look your way. So, it’s possible you have some idea of how you came to be basically in his armpit. 

James grins down at you. “Don’t listen to them,” he stage-whispers. “We both know what a good roommate I can be, under the right management.” 

Your answering smile comes far too easily. You like seeing James like this. You don’t think he’s ever not himself, but as soon as Sirius got here it’s like he dialed up to eleven. And he obviously loves his friends, entertaining them, making them laugh. You can see why, too. They’re an easy bunch to talk to. 

It probably helps that James has been practically tipping ciders down your throat (he hasn’t; he’s offered them to you, and you’ve gulped them down like the nervous freak you are), but you’re actually having a good time. You felt a bit indebted after he’d bought you a pizza last week and you’d still chickened out of coming downstairs, but now you’re glad you’re here. 

Your body feels loose and liquidy, and your shoulder is just starting to hurt from the position you’re in (which makes you wonder how long James’ ribs have been hurting from your shoulder digging into them) when he looks down at you again. He seems amused. 

“You comfy down there?” he asks. 

“Meh.” It’s an honest answer. 

“Here.” He brings his arm to your shoulder, propping you up and then scooching closer to you on the couch. Now you’re not in his armpit so much as under his arm, which drops from where it’s draped across the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder reassuringly. “Better?” 

“Yeah.” Even the social lubricant of alcohol can’t keep the nervous edge from your voice. “Thanks.” 

“Course, love.” He gives your shoulder another little squeeze, beaming as he focuses back on the conversation. 

Your chest hurts, a gratifying ache. 

You manage to down another cider before his friends start saying their goodbyes, Sirius and Remus each whipping out a cigarette as soon as they’re outside while Lily and Mary fake cough and James heckles them lovingly from the doorway. 

When he shuts the door he’s still smiling, so obviously content you can’t help but feel a crush of affection for him. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” you say, grabbing a rag to clean up where Mary had accidentally spilled a bit of her drink. 

“Of course, I told you you’re always—what are you doing?” 

He sounds so affronted you actually think you’ve done something wrong. You look up from where you’re mopping up the spill, confused. 

“I’m cleaning everything from tonight,” he says, still looking outraged. 

You smile in relief when you realize it’s feigned. “Don’t be stupid. I was participating tonight, too.”

“You make it sound like you were an accomplice to some crime.” James sits down beside you and steals the rag from your hand, cleaning up the rest of the spill himself. “You’re off the hook, you were practically coerced.” 

“I was,” you agree, standing and gathering the dishes from the coffee table instead, “but it was fun in the end. I’m a little bit glad you coerced me.” 

You can hear James’ smile in his voice. “I’ll be sure to do it more often. First, I’m gonna coerce you into hanging out with us again on Friday, and then—“ He turns around, eyes narrowing as he spots the couple of glasses you’re carrying “—stop picking up my mess! Fuck, I can’t keep up with you, you’re like a machine.” 

A giggle fizzes out of you. James stands and holds his hands out for them, but you take a couple of steps back. “Why can’t I help? Anyway, you’re just as clean as I am.” 

“Because, it was my idea,” he laughs, pursuing you. “And I’m only clean because you’re clean.” He backs you up against the stairs, wrestling the glasses away from you with frustrating ease. “If I thought you didn’t care, this whole place would look like the inside of my room.” 

You give an odd bark of laughter, leaning on the banister to look at him. He looks ridiculously smug, both glasses held in one big hand. “Oh my god, you’re so nice. It’s pathological.” 

“Wow.” Some of the smugness falls away as James grins at you. “That’s a real one.” 

“What?” 

“Your smile,” he says. You still don’t get how he can do this eye contact thing, looking at you so openly while he seems so sincere. Your own gaze flees downward, warmth rushing to your cheeks. “I don’t get to see it a lot, out in the open like that. It’s really lovely.” 

He reaches for you, doing this weird chin-pinching thing that shouldn’t be half as endearing as it is. You roll your eyes, but your mouth seems stuck. You don’t know how to respond. 

James doesn’t seem to notice, taking the glasses with him into the kitchen. You grab a few more off the table and follow him. He’s turned the light above the sink on, but the rest of the kitchen is dim. His long sleeves are pushed up to his elbows as he makes soapy water in the sink. 

As you come in, he turns around to take the glasses from you, the light from above casting a glowy halo of his thick brown hair. He’s so beautiful it makes your stomach hurt. You’re suddenly worried you might be just inebriated enough to do something stupid. 

James narrows his eyes at you teasingly as he snatches the glasses away. “Enough of that,” he scolds. 

“Are you sure you don’t want any more help?” you ask. 

He rolls his eyes. You’re pretty sure he didn’t do that so much before he started hanging out with you. On him, it somehow manages to look fond. “Positive,” he says. “Go stop being useful.” 

You catch yourself biting the inside of your lip. “Okay. Then I think I’m gonna head up for the night.” 

“Yeah?” James looks over, and you wonder for a second if something in your voice has given you away. He looks confused, a bit worried, but then that melds into a soft sweetness. He gives you a smile. “Okay. Sweet dreams.” 

“You too,” you say, doing your best to smile in response before you round the corner to the stairs. 

Your brain feels fuzzy. You’re not sure if that’s from alcohol or fatigue or something else entirely, but it feels good to put on your pajamas, clean your face in front of the mirror. The covers on your bed are soft and heavy. You can hear the kitchen sink running downstairs as you slip beneath them, James finally starting to rinse the dishes before he turns in for the night, too. 

You think of his boisterous laugh, the weight of his arm around your shoulders, his thumb pressing into your chin. 

When you close your eyelids, you half expect to find a faint outline of his smile impressed upon the insides.

[cdbabymp3]

can u write something about hamzah being nervy for his first time w u cus he’s a virgin 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i’d actually go insane

𐙚the first time ― hamzahthefantastic

notes/warnings: nsfw !! reader is slightly more experienced than hamzah this might be the first and last time i write a full length fic for this acc i went through every stage of grief making this

it started super innocent. a couple kisses exchanged in the kitchen while making dinner together. you guys had decided to have a little fancy date night at home, since it was pouring rain outside. hamzah lit candles and everything. while eating dinner, you can feel his energy radiate off of him, like he's longing for something but won't quite say what. usually he's pretty straightforward with his feelings, hating to beat around the bush, but right now... this was not the case.

"is everything alright?" you ask softly, as he gets up to clear your empty plates

he places the plates in the sink, looking up at you, "uh, yeah? why? does it seem like something's up?' he speaks a mile a minute, now clumsily rinsing the dirty dishes

"well, no. i don't know, you just seem like there's something on your mind." you further, he keeps his gaze down at the dishes, scrubbing and rinsing far more than what's needed. is he stalling?

"nah, i'm fine, don't worry." he lies poorly, grabbing a rag and starting to dry the plates. his eyes are still failing to meet yours, a tell-tale sign he's not being honest.

dating for 4 months, intimacy and sex was a topic hamzah always found a way to tip toe around. yes, you guys have talked about sex before, but it was never in a serious way. he would always make a joke to the only way you even found out about his lack of experience was during a drunken night, trying to get him into bed to sleep.

"wait, hold up-i've never done this before, i've never done this before, i've never done this before... y/n wait...." he slurred out, delirious laughter quickly turning into panicked muttering

the memory burns in the back of your mind, even more so because he hasn't brought up that night since, nor do you think he even remembers.

he's still drying an already-dry-plate with so much force, that the plate dwindles nearly in and out of his grip. he bites the inside of his cheek, eyes narrow. something's festering, it's so plain to see.

"are you sure? because you can tell me if it's-"

before you could get another word out, the plate he was holding slips out of his hand, hitting the kitchen floor and breaking into a million pieces.

"fuck." he sighs, throwing the rag into the sink angrily and puts a hand over his eyes

you step over to him slowly, trying to avoid the ceramic shards on the floor.

"hamzah-"

"no, don't come over here. let me clean it up first." he removes the hand from his eyes, revealing you standing a foot away with a hand extended towards him to reach for. he thinks on it for a moment, but takes it, walking out of the kitchen and into your embrace.

"what's going on, hm?" you rub his back, trying to calm him down

"it's so fucking embarrassing, y/n, trust me. i can't even say it out loud." he mumbles, releasing himself from the hug and taking a seat on the couch

you follow him, sitting in the adjacent chair. waiting patiently for him to speak, you give him a reassuring smile. it's silent for so long and at this point, you start to catch onto what has him so distraught; the only milestone in your relationship that's been left unconquered. you can practically see the cogs in his brain turning and processing how he wants to go about telling you this information. to save him from his spiraling, you decide to intervene. "you know i don't care, right?" vague enough not to scare him from the topic, but hopefully enough to allude to what he's trying to say.

"care about what?" he frowns, head titled

"remember that night when you got really drunk and i had to drive us home? and you were super delirious, so i had to help you get ready for bed?" he simply nods, still not seeing where you're going with this. "well-um, when i was helping you change out of your clothes and get into bed, you kept repeating 'i've never done this before' over and over again. i didn't want to assume you meant it that way, but..."

he now puts not one, but both hands over his eyes, sheer humiliation hits him like a 50-foot wave. "oh my fucking god, that's so embarrassing."

"what- no, no, no. it's okay, trust me. it's okay, hamzah, seriously."

he hunches over so his elbows rest on his knees, face in his palms, as he's trying to process this. "i-wow... you knew this whole time too, that's crazy." still reeling, he laughs nervously.

"hamzah, it literally changes nothing for me. i just want you to feel comfortable enough to talk to me about it." you get up and sit next to him, putting a hand on his thigh for comfort.

"i know, i know. i was gonna say something tonight," he lifts his face from his hands, "that's why i was so wound up, i think...nerves, you know?"

"yeah, i understand."

"i feel really guilty sometimes... like, that we haven't done anything. i don't want you to think that it's because i don't want to- i do, i really do. i don't know why, but i get so nervous anytime we're in the moment and it could happen. i always chicken out. i just want it to be good for you..."

your heart melts at his confession. "hey, no, don't feel guilty. i'm willing to wait. whenever you're ready, i'm ready." your hand leaves his thigh and rubs his back the way he likes. he snickers and your hand pauses. "what?"

"that's what i was gonna talk to you about; whether or not you wanted to, um...tonight?"

"oh! i-"

"i mean, if you don't want to, we don't have to. i thought that it seemed like a good night since it's just us and the rain outside is honestly kinda romantic, i don't know, maybe i-"

you put a hand over his mouth and you can feel him smile against your palm. "you're overthinking this."

"i-" his voice is muffled against your hand, so he lightly takes your wrist and removes it. "i'm overthinking, but also have no idea what the fuck to do. i mean-i know 'what to do' in a biological sense, but like-" he catches himself in the middle of another ramble and nods knowingly, shaping his lips into a thin line.

"we can take it slow, yeah? just breathe..." you whisper, the hand that was once placed on his back slithering to the back of his head, causing him to turn his face to you.

"okay." he matches your tender volume, allowing his body to relax with a long exhale

you wait for all the air to peacefully leave his lungs before grabbing his hand and getting up. it takes him a second, but he obliges as you lead him into his bedroom. you give him a quick kiss, crawling onto the bed as he follows suit.

"c'mere" you coo

he can't hide the excitement on his face, getting on the bed with urgency and positioning his frame above yours. you wrap your hands around the back of his head and engulf him in a heated kiss. one arm stabilizes him above you, while the other holds your hip. this he's done with you before, this was his comfort zone. what comes next is new and surprises you. his hand glides from your hip, up your torso to your right boob, giving it a squeeze over your shirt. a pleased sigh gets caught in your throat and you feel his hand hesitate, so you put a hand on top of his to continue. it's funny because you can tell he does actually know what to do, but it's obvious that doing with an actual person is throwing him off a little. after a moment or two, he moves on to your other boob, giving it equal attention. you start to play with the hem of his shirt, which he's quick to notice and pulls off. his lips connect with your neck this time and the contact makes your stomach feel incredibly warm. his position in between your legs gives you easy access to his toned chest and torso, so you slide your hands from his collarbones down to right before the waistline of his pants as he continues to his ministrations on your neck. this earns a low hum from him, the vibration of the sound against your neck makes you giggle. he giggles too, happy that some of his nervous tension is being relieved. some minutes pass and you feel what will be a generously sized hickey tomorrow morning planted just below your jaw as hamzah's mouth leaves the skin to breathe.

"um... i should probably get you out of these." his fingertips ghost under the band of your midi skirt and underwear, to which you nod more desperate than you mean to. he cracks his famous grin before sliding the skirt down your legs. once it reaches your ankles you kick it off. he looks down at your black, lacy underwear and blinks slowly. in this brief pause, you take the liberty to peel off your top. to hamzah's delight, your bra matches your underwear with a pink bow in the center.

"you're so cute" he beams, kissing your lips, mouth then heading down between your cleavage to your navel. he leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses until he reaches the thin line of your underwear, giving your clothed-clit a sweet kiss.

"mmh" your hips jerk up involuntarily

"yeah? that good, baby?" he asks genuinely, his innocent voice starkly contrasting how his fingers loop around your underwear and drag them down your thighs. feeling your underwear completely off, you sit up to rid yourself of your bra but he clicks his tongue. "i got it."

"oh, you got it?" you tease and he rolls his eyes

"shh" he pulls one of the straps down your shoulder, enough to kiss where it previously was before reaching behind and undoing the clasps swiftly. the garment slips down your arms and he catches it, tossing it alongside the rest of your discarded clothes. "jesus..." his eyes widen, your bare chest on full display for him. he leans down, about to take a nipple to into his mouth when you place a hand on his cheek to stop him. "wh-do you not want me to do that?"

"no, baby, it's not that. it's just-" you take his hand and guide it down to your core, allowing his fingertips to brush past your wetness.

he raises his eyebrows at the feeling, getting your not-so-subtle hint. "oh...i-okay, you're, like, ready, huh?" his voice quivers, a rhetorical question but it's so endearing. "here-uh, lemme get a condom." he leans and extends an arm across you to his bedside table. nervously fumbling with the drawer, he grabs the packet and situates himself back between your legs. in the same position as before, one arm holding himself up and the other putting the packet between his teeth to open, you put a hand on his arm and laugh.

"hamzah, your pants."

"oh, shit, i forgot. hold up," he says, the condom packet still between his teeth as unbuttons his pants and slides them off along his underwear in no time. you can tell by the look on his face, he's getting shy, so you let him do things at the pace he wants. you swear you blink and he's already rolled the condom onto himself, positioning his body inches from where you need him. he looks conflicted, so you cup his face to let him know you're here. "i was already a nervous wreck before, but it just hit me now even more..." he confesses just above a whisper, his cheek feels hot with self-consciousness as you caress it

"do you want some help?" you offer and his eyes soften, visibly grateful that he didn't have to verbally ask you.

"sorry." he apologizes

"no it's okay, baby, here-" you put a hand on top of the one that he holds himself with and move him closer and closer to your entrance. his tip makes contact and you bite your lip, moving him along your arousal to lessen the pain you assume will come based on how sizable he feels. "i'm gonna go slow, okay? it's been a while since i last did this..." you admit, carefully pulling his hand so that his tip only makes it past your folds. his chest starts to rise and fall, his glued to yours and not daring to leave.

"y/n..." he moans, feeling himself finally enter you

the stretch alone has you grabbing for his bicep, mouth open in shock. "fuck" you gasp, trying to adjust to his size.

his eyes scan yours, seeing your discomfort bubbling. "should i stop? am i hurting you, baby?" he starts to panic

"no, i'm okay, just keep going. you can m-move now, if you want." you pant out eagerly and he does as told, pulling back, but not out and thrusting back in nice and slow. he starts to find a rhythm and repeats this at the perfect cadence.

"there you go, you got it-ah" you praise him, which only works him up more, rutting into you now with more haste than ever; he's finally getting comfortable. your nails drag down his broad back, making him whine into your neck, hitting a spot inside you no one's hit before. he knows way more than he thinks. you can feel him start to chase his release, twitching as his sounds start to rise in pitch.

"baby, i think i'm gonna-fuck!" his hips snap and stagger with one final thrust, the coil in his stomach snapping vigorously. his high leaves him trembling above you, barely able to hold up his weight.

"virgin no more" you whisper dramatically, brushing his black curls out of his eyes, a sheer layer of sweat making them stick to his skin a bit.

"b-but you didn't cum... i came in like fucking 3 minutes and you didn't-"

you interrupt him with a kiss, different than the ones you were sharing moments ago. this one held something more than lust or desire.

"i don't care, i'm proud of you." you rest a thumb on his full bottom lip, toying with it. "plus, it was your first time, not your last. you can make it up to me."

so fucking anxious to post this 🥸 yes there will be a pt.2! idk when quite yet bc i'm gonna need a couple days to recover from this

send in hc requests !!! i enjoy writing those a lot and can get them done quicker <333

໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @junebugin-july , @itgirlvirgo (lmk if u wanna be added !!!)

[hispg]

Between royalty and vows

Pairings: Prince! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: A forced marriage, a fate set in stone, nothing could change that.

In the world of royalty, there were no choices, only obligations to fulfill. What you didn't expect was to become engaged to a renowned prince, ready to succeed the lineage.

Until that moment, you still had some hope that everything would work out, maybe it wasn't so bad. But it would be a shame if your future husband had a mistress.

Wouldn't it?

Wc:3.4k

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt/ comfort, cheating, arranged marriage, eventual smut, one-sided love, affairs, manipulative behavior from Leon, (I'll put more once things start to progress).

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

An: Sooo there is the new chapter! I was so anxious to write it and post it! In all honesty, this is the chapter that I most liked to write(so far).

I've been receiving some dms about creating a taglist, so I'll do it from the next chapter and on. If you're interested in entering the tag list, you can dm me or comment on any chapters of this fic, and I'll add you. For the ones who already talked to me, I'll put you on the list already, so you don't need to message me again!<3

Also, I'll start to crosspost this fic here and on Ao3, for the ones who prefer to read in there. Here's the link Ao3. Eventually, I'll post all chapters!

Chapter 5: Pretty lies

The heavy rain outside was no bother to the couple in bed, just as the cold was no problem that couldn't be solved with the intimacy that had just been shared under the covers.

There he was, lying with his lover, Ashley. Warming another woman's bed, offering her the warmth that his body emanated, the love that made her heart beat faster every time.

Both were nude, without the slightest concern for anything, all that mattered was what had just happened in that room. The closeness they shared, the oaths of love spoken between each kiss, between each embrace.

They had just made love, done something that was yet another symbol of the compromising union they contained.

Leon hadn't gone back to the castle as soon as he arrived back from his trip, he had gone to his beloved's house, a hidden place that only they knew where it was, only the lovebirds met there.

It was their love nest.

The same place where Ashley gave herself to him for the first time, the same sacred place where they made love whenever they could. The place where they loved each other deeply, where they didn't have to hide anything.

Ashley lay with her head on Leon's bare chest, while he had one arm wrapped around her and the other stroking her blonde hair.

The only sound in the room was the wood cracking in the fireplace and the soft breathing of both of them in that bed.

The clothes were thrown about, the silk covers hiding their shame, but if Leon was being honest, he couldn't think of a better place to be.

Because he felt at home every time he was with Ashley, even if he knew it was wrong.

And he was screwed if anyone found out.

"Are you staying?" Ashley asks in a whisper, taking the opportunity to place a soft kiss on his chest.

Leon gives her a blown smile, looking at her tenderly, "I'd love to. But you know I can't."

It was already too bold of him to come to this place to spend time with her, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't go along with her every whim.

Especially as the wedding was approaching, and he was dead if he didn't show up.

She sighed helplessly, knowing full well that this would be the answer from the start. But in all honesty, what did she expect? Despite her misfortunes, she was the mistress.

"I promise I'll try to see you more, mh? My wife won't be the problem, don't worry." Leon reassured her, kissed her on the forehead and got up, soon he would be getting ready to leave.

Although he wanted to be with her for even five more minutes, he would give all the money in the world to make it happen.

"Does she know about us?" Ashley asked, picking up the blanket and covering her bare midriff.

That was enough for Leon to clench his eyes shut, buttoning his pants as he stared at her.

"She can't even conceive of it. You know our deal." It was a good deal for both sides, not least because Leon didn't even want to imagine what Ashley's father would do to him once he found out what he and his daughter were doing behind closed doors.

Ashley then sighed, the blonde strands falling across her forehead as she thought for a moment.

"Do you think you can still see me after you're married?" She asks softly, almost embarrassed by her own question.

"I'll always find a way, don't worry." He says, the sincere smile that became the perfect proof that he was saying this from the bottom of his soul.

It was always a painful farewell, but Leon knew it was necessary for him to do it. Once he'd put all his clothes back on, he turned to Ashley, taking her in his arms and planting a gentle, passionate kiss on her lips. He also made a point of pressing his body against hers to leave his cologne on her.

It wasn't enough to have his smell on the silk sheets, he needed to leave his mark on her too.

Goodbyes aside, he knew he had to leave, the sun was rising, and if he wanted to get back to the castle before it was too late, he had to leave now.

As he took the steps to leave the small chalet in the Italian countryside, where no one suspected them, he took one last look at his beloved, giving her a broad smile as he said goodbye.

Watching Ashley go all wobbly as he walked out the front door. She sighed as her lover left, waving to him and looking dreamily out of the window.

Leon walked up to the discreet carriage that was waiting for him in front of the cottage, besides the coachman, there was Leon's faithful butler, Ausdret.

And also his worst accomplice, the butler who always covered up everything Leon did, no matter how stupid it might seem or be.

"Your Highness." Ausdret greeted, leading Leon to the carriage.

"It's good that you're here." Leon replies back, tucking himself into the small carriage.

His butler nods and sits down on the opposite seat, facing Leon. Even though Ausdret knew that no one could put a halter on Leon, he was still trying to talk some sense into his young, dim-witted head.

"Your Highness do you not think it is inappropriate to maintain this relationship?" Ausdret asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Leon scoffed, narrowing his gaze at the poor butler, acting as if he had said the worst blasphemy that could be heard.

"Come on, you're a braggart too. Don't act like you're a kind gentleman with exemplary decorum." Leon retorts, crossing his legs as he fixes the buttons on his shirt once more.

Ausdret couldn't help but sigh, trying his best to make Leon understand how problematic it would be to keep all this up.

"Prince, you have a fiancée now. This relationship is no longer suitable." The butler said once again, pausing and emphasizing his lines, it wasn't possible that this was so difficult to understand.

"Well, it'll last as long as I want it to. You know better than that." Leon says, an unparalleled coldness in his voice, it was obvious, this subject was not up for discussion for him.

Ausdret always thought that this was just a youthful romance of Leon's, in fact he never thought that it would thrive for so long, for years. Leon was a man who could have any woman he wanted, not only because of the power he possessed, but also because of his beauty.

However, what the butler couldn't have guessed was that Leon would fall in love with Lady Ashley, a princess from another place. A likely romance, but love doesn't work properly in royalty.

"But Your Highness-" Leon interrupts Ausdret before he can continue.

"I am the prince, and you collaborate with me." Leon begins, his voice becoming an authoritative, voracious whisper.

"As I'm your highness, you must agree that you didn't see anything unusual. That I was on a business trip these last few days." Leon says, his gaze narrowing once more on the servant.

What could Ausdret say? He had always supported this boy, and even with a lump forming in his throat, he wasn't going to do any different again.

The butler knew that this situation wasn't fair to you, nor to Ashley, it would only end up with broken hearts and a quarrel that couldn't be undone.

Perhaps Leon was too young to understand this, but at some point fate would catch up with him.

"So? Did you see anything?" Leon asked, almost daring him to give an answer that was the opposite of what he wanted to hear.

"No, Your Highness. I didn't see anything suspicious." Ausdret replied under his breath, closing his eyes and shaking his head in denial.

"Good." Leon grumbles back.

The journey wouldn't take long, but Ausdret already knew that the rest of the way would be filled with the ache of an inconvenient silence.

You knew you'd end up getting into trouble with your recent actions, but that still didn't stop you from going ahead with them. At that moment you were in the grassy fields on the outskirts of the castle.

It was easy to get here, you just needed the help of Chris and your maid, Evelyn. Nothing more than a silly little lie to disguise your departure.

The view was beautiful, you felt almost at home in a place like this. You were sitting on the horse while Chris guided the animal, walking through the grass carefully while also keeping an eye on you.

You couldn't tell if you were approaching Chris out of hurt ego, or because he was someone incredibly interesting and good to have around.

Perhaps you had combined the useful with the pleasant, because in all honesty, you couldn't deny that you were enjoying all this time with Chris, even feeling more at peace with yourself.

"Well, at least you escaped the tea party." Chris jokes, looking at you with a smile.

You nod, smiling back at him.

"God, I can't imagine what it would be like to spend another afternoon with Mrs. Hisltons!" You grumble, frowning as you remember all the tedious conversations the lady has put you through.

Chris couldn't help himself and laughed out loud, looking at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

"Oh, tell me about it. As soon as I got here, she gave me a good lecture on why I should get married." Chris says with a playful tone, walking slowly with you through the pastures.

You smiled a little, petting the horse as a question popped into your mind.

"But, forgive me for being impolite, but why haven't you gotten married yet?" You asked calmly, giving him the opportunity not to answer if he didn't want to.

"Nothing in particular, I just haven't found any suitors that catch my eye." He says, without much ado, getting straight to the point.

You'd think someone as cultured as him would want a woman who knew a bit more than just dresses and jewelry. Completely fair and understandable.

But you still can't help thinking that Chris was alone by choice, it wouldn't be the first time a man had preferred being alone to being married.

"I understand, but is it something you're thinking of doing? I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive." You say with a peaceful smile, trying to get to know the man you've grown so close to over the last few days.

Chris then paused and pondered, thinking of an answer that would measure up. But he couldn't think of anything more sincere than:

"Yes, I intend to." Just like that, or any other explanation.

But you saw his eyes light up a little when he looked at you for a brief moment, making you quietly gasp.

You then returned your gaze to your surroundings, the countryside that was such a contrast to the life you had. Which was far from peaceful.

Although you knew it shouldn't take you so long to get back to the castle, as they would probably notice you were gone, you could stubbornly stay here with him.

With Chris, the man who had been giving you so much comfort recently.

Chris then looked at you with a charming gaze, helping you off the horse. His hands found your waist, steadying you as you got off the animal.

Feeling his heavy, manly hands on your body made you feel something different, but you preferred not to mention it. Not least because you were being completely inappropriate for a dame.

You allowed yourself to feel the ground beneath your heels, removing the footwear from your body, feeling the grass between your toes.

The thought of returning to your new home was already distant, you could even swear that you forgot about Leon for just a moment. You forgot about the fact that he was coming back today.

And that he would be back around noon. And it was almost two in the afternoon, he was probably already at the castle by then.

But well, what would be the point of sneaking out of the castle with the Duke if not for a bit of confusion.

"You know, this is turning out to be one of the nicest afternoons I've had." Chris says, smiling and following you as you walk across the lawn.

"Oh, yes. It's nice to get out of that place for a bit." You say, looking at the sun, which is already descending.

Chris followed you, keeping an eye on every step. And you even saw out of the corner of your eye that he tried to take your hand, but hesitated to make such an intimate gesture.

You even heard the trumpets sounding in the distance, announcing the prince's arrival, but nothing that made you move from where you were.

And well, from the way Chris stood next to you as you watched the landscape of the field, he wouldn't leave until you asked him to.

At one point, you thought it would be better to leave, perhaps so as not to cause Chris any trouble. But the moment Chris's fingers touched your cheek, and he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, something in you sparked.

It was impossible to hide the red tinge that appeared on your cheeks, as well as the way you just ignored everything else. Everything seemed right.

You were surrendered, and you didn't want to leave this man's side. What on earth were you doing?

Why did you feel so torn? It couldn't end well.

"Where is she?" It was the first question Leon asked as soon as he set foot in the castle, finding it strange that his fiancée wasn't here to greet him.

"The princess isn't feeling well, Your Highness." Evelyn, the maid who helped you escape, answered.

Leon wrinkled his eyebrows, glancing at the door of your chambers, he hadn't quite believed that excuse.

"Tell her I'll come and see her. She doesn't have to leave her room." Leon says, looking at the way the maid was beginning to shudder.

"She's really not well, Your Highness-" Leon didn't care how much the maid protested, he went ahead and went to your bedroom.

He opened the door without any manners, looking around as he searched for any sign of you. But he was disappointed when he found your bed empty, the room perfectly tidy and untouched. You hadn't been in that room for a while.

Your lie was already falling apart, as they say lies don't go far.

"Where is she?" Leon asked once again, this time more coldly and authoritatively, demanding an answer.

"I don't know! She was here this morning." The maid manages to stutter, unable to face Leon.

Leon clenched his fists, frustration and irritation taking over his feelings. You were getting out of hand, it wasn't enough that you'd been so bold with Chris, now this?

Even though he was away, he knew everything that was going on in that castle, and he couldn't let it continue the way it was.

Who did you think you were?

"Have her searched all over the castle." Leon demanded, leaving your room to look for you.

As soon as Leon saw that the maid hadn't moved a muscle, he added:

"Immediately." His voice was a low grunt, capable of sending a chill down anyone's spine.

The maid moved quickly, warning the other servants about the princess's 'disappearance', and they all stood by to look for you.

Nothing. They looked for you in every corner of that castle, every room, every space you could be in. And they found nothing, not a single sign of you.

Leon was fulminating, realizing that you and the Duke weren't in that castle. And you probably weren't close.

"We haven't found her, Your Highness. The princess isn't in the castle." One of the servants dares to speak, trembling at having to address the prince.

"What do you mean she's not in the castle?" Leon muttered, looking out the windows while trying to find you somehow.

And Leon had to stop himself from gritting his teeth as he watched the scene with his own eyes. You came in through the back door, a delicate hood over your head to disguise your identity.

You were sitting on Chris's horse, smiling happily as the man led the horse inside. You seemed so close, so intimate.

Something about it made Leon go crazy, he can't say, but some strange feeling rose in his chest and made a knot form in the pit of his stomach.

What were you thinking? You were a lady, Jesus! You should behave like one.

"You are dismissed, return to your duties." Leon says to the other servants, leaving no room for questions.

Drastic situations call for drastic measures, only then will you be able to understand your place. And how you should act as a future queen.

Leon waited, right in the center of the main hall, he decided he would act as if he hadn't seen anything. He felt his breathing quicken, heard the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

He didn't know if it was anger, disappointment or something else.

You didn't realize he was there until you saw the pair of blue eyes looking you up and down, for some reason sending a shiver up your spine.

"I was worried about you." He was the first to speak, approaching you without a second thought.

"Excuse me, Your Highness. I needed some fresh air." You say, your voice smooth as silk, sweet as honey.

You needed to act as if nothing much had really happened, as if you hadn't gone off with the Duke alone, without letting anyone know.

Even more so, going out alone with a man.

Leon narrows his eyes, placing a hand on your waist, pulling you close. His touch made you gasp, your eyes widen and your breathing hitch, at the same moment you felt your breath mingle with his.

For a moment, you looked at each other, his penetrating gaze causing an incomparable flush to rise to your cheeks. His hands on your body, one holding your cheek, steadying you to do what he wanted to do.

What was he going to do? Oh, you realized it in the next second, when you saw his face coming closer to yours. His nose touching yours, and then, that's when…

He kissed you.

His lips against yours, his hand holding you firmly and preventing you from moving. It was unconscious, instinctive, you moved your lips in sync with his. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and you sealed this moment with the warm intimacy of a kiss.

It wasn't sincere, it was carnal.

The world around you seemed to stop, you were focused on the warm feeling that took over your body, the way the heat of the moment enveloped you. Your body molded itself to his so well, it was so perfect.

As if it was meant to be.

It was painful to separate your lips from his, your mind in a whirlwind of emotions. Was it real? Had he reconsidered? Maybe he was going to give you both a chance?

You were a very dreamy girl perhaps, those endless dreams that you wished from the bottom of your soul were real, that you clamored for to come true at some point.

But oh, that little act, it was far from a dream.

When you regained your senses, you looked around and saw a group of high-class ladies staring at the two of you. The dreamy looks and sighs they gave when they saw the couple, the passionate couple.

In the corner, you saw the king and queen, smiling approvingly at the two of you. They were proud.

A show off.

Reality weighed heavily on your mind when you understood. It was nothing, it was a show off, an exhibition. The momentary magic wore off and gave way to the bitterness that once again fell upon you.

Whose fault was it? Yours, for having once again believed in the foolishness that was Leon's chance of seeing you beyond being a prize. Or Leon, for toying with you in such a way?

In any case, what a shame. The taste of his lips was imprinted on yours, the sensation of his lips against yours was still so vivid. So real. You felt loved in a few seconds, putting yourself in your place soon after.

With one simple action, Leon reminded you of who you belong to, legally, and also reminded you of your place. Of your obligations to him, he came out the winner once again.

Damned bastard.

[wesleysniperking]

From Luffy, to Usopp (from a One Piece “modern day” AU I’ll probably never write) ☀️ 🌱

Luffy: I remember the first time I met you. The first thing you told me was a lie, but I believed you anyway. Everyone told me you were lying, but I still believed you because you told me yourself. That’s what made you honest to me.

I think we all come from somewhere in the sky. You told me everything in this world—objects, humans, flowers—was real and had a soul. You made me believe that. So when I hear everyone talk about you, I have to listen to their lies because they don’t know you like I do. You’re still here; I know you are. You could be standing right in front of me.

Everyone lies about you because you aren’t here to tell the truth. But I remember the one time you were truly honest with me. You seemed so down, so sad. It was hard to believe because you always appeared so strong and happy.

Now I have to hear people say you were depressed, that I didn’t know you at all, that you had a darkness inside. How could I see darkness when all you showed me was light? You always blinded me in a good way. So why aren’t you here? Why aren’t you in the front row, laughing at me, saying, “You’re so stupid, what are you doing up there giving a speech?”

You were a bad liar, and so am I. But you were there for me, and now you aren’t. You were the only one who could go along with my craziness, who could play with me, who could be at my level of fun. Yet, you could also ground me, bring me back to reality, and say, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this because it’s not right.”

I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone like that again. You used to compare me to the sun, saying I was the brightest thing in your life. I never told you this, but you were like air to me. You gave life to everything around you. Even now, it feels like I can’t live without you.

But you’re still here. You breathed air into all of those who loved you, and I’m surrounded by that. I can breathe again. You were the most genuine person I knew. You claimed to be a superhero, to slay giants, and I believed you. The last thing you said to me was, “You don’t understand, I am a lie.” But no, you weren’t a lie. You were the realest person I knew. You were air, you kept everything alive. Somewhere in the unknown, wherever people go after it ends, you’re there. Alive.

Context: I've been reflecting on Usopp and his role within the crew. He's that one person in the friend group who is full of life and always making everyone laugh, but beneath that vibrant exterior, he hides a lot of darkness and depression. It's a heartbreaking reality that many people only discover these hidden struggles of a loved one or friend when it's too late.

I recently read a fic that compared Luffy to the Sun and Usopp to a plant, and it resonated deeply with me. Usopp, as a character, has undergone perhaps the most growth in the series. He brings life to the crew and gave life to the Merry. Through his storytelling, he breathes life into things that don't even exist. Plants produce oxygen, which is essential for human survival, just as Usopp's presence is vital for the crew.

When I think about what would have happened if Usopp had left the crew back in Water 7, I can't imagine Luffy carrying on with just his sunshine alone. Without sunshine, there is no life, but without plants, there is no oxygen, which is equally crucial. This idea led me to write a piece imagining Luffy giving a monologue about Usopp, in the event that he were to leave this world too soon.

gif link credit

Usopp fan club (join if you want to)

[bettsfic]

hi betts!

i’ve been a fan of yours for years now (training wheels is one of my favorite stories— not just fics. stories— ever, and i really admire your style. as a writer myself, i want to ask how you’re able to keep your motivation up to complete your projects? i feel like i start out so motivated when i fall in love with an idea, but once that fevered haze fades, it’s almost impossible for me to get the motivation i need to write. i have a few wips that i feel so guilty about not finishing/not wanting to finish/wanting to finish but being unable to get the inspiration to. so, in short, how do you maintain the motivation to finish your wips?

thank you so much! i'm glad to hear it; training wheels is still very dear to me.

first, if you want a step by step guide to finishing your wips, i wrote a tutorial earlier this year in my newsletter.

also as i've said elsewhere, i believe it's more important to follow your inspiration and interest where it takes you even if it means not finishing things. one of the reasons i love fanfic is because it's the only genre i can think of where you get to read unfinished works and be present during the writing of them.

but you asked about *my* motivation to finish things, and i'll say it's taken me a long time to build the endurance necessary not only to complete big projects but also complete them to my satisfaction. in my experience, the better you are at finishing things, the worse you become at starting them, and so whereas i used to have a million wips and ideas happening at once, now i can see the ridiculous endeavor ahead of me and pick my battles more knowledgeably.

also, i don't finish everything, especially not right away. sometimes i sit years on a story before i eventually come back to it. but i've found that it's inevitable that when i put something down that i care about, i'll come back around to it when i'm ready. it's not something i have to force. my attention and interest bounces around all over the place but the things i love, i love forever. so i'll always come back around to them.

most importantly--and this is really very important--i lie to myself.

here are the two main lies i tell myself:

"this is the best thing i've ever written," and

"i'm almost done."

being a little delusional is a huge benefit as a writer. if you're too honest with yourself nothing can get done. but i've always had a natural talent for convincing myself of things that aren't true and although that's gotten me in a lot of trouble in all other aspects of my life, in writing it keeps me just far enough away from reality that i can finish things.

the process is something like this:

vague story idea!

will probably be very small, the shortest story i have ever written in fact

begin writing

feels good, feels organic

no no that's not right, bad vibes

start over

ohhh i see what i'm trying to do

outline the tiniest, easiest outline i have ever made. five bullet points. this happens, and then this and this, and the story ends. EASY

will finish by tomorrow, probably

write write write

will finish by tomorrow, probably

write write write

definitely tomorrow, almost done

check word count. 25k. uh oh

doesn't matter, almost done. have *checks* four out of five bullet points to go

write write write

five point bullet outline no longer effective

re-outline. five points turns into five pages. uh oh

check word count. 60k. big yikes

but! almost done! will finish tomorrow, probably

write write write

get stuck? how? but the outline...

the outline is ineffective. re-outline.

check word count. 100k. :(

almost done :)

a plot knot arises. spend six hours staring at a wall to undo the plot knot

plot knot is more insidious than expected. open new document. start over

*now* i'm almost done

rewrite, restructure, reorganize

check word count. 20k. :(

write write write

check word count. 200k. :((

weeks-long fugue state during which i am god

awaken to filthy apartment. i have not eaten a vegetable in many days. i have not seen the sun.

eat a broccoli

go outside

am i living? am i truly living? is this all life is? am i loved? am i worth loving?

return to safety of fictional world to avoid existential despair

write write write

will finish by tomorrow, probably

so it's really less about motivation to finish and more about motivation to chase down an increasingly elusive feeling of joy through immersion into worlds of my own making and control. it's way easier to run away from something than toward it.

[ankahikoibaat]

Twenty Fanfic Writer Questions

tagged by: @reconstructwriter tagging: EVERYONE no but seriously okay @heatherfield @lowkeyed1 @littleblackraincloudofcourse @firstelevens @peterbenjaminparkour @bizzybee429 @cypresssunn @thesecondbatgirl @mid-nighttiger @noneedforbloodpressure @brachiosaurus-on @monjustmon @thegreencarousel and anyone else (i don't remember if i've ever done this before.)

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?  about to be 230 on Thursday! (what up, plan on hitting 250 before the end of the year.)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?  466,023 words!

3. What fandoms do you write for?  ....too many. whatever hits my fancy when it comes to the whumptober prompts but main focuses are Pride And Prejudice, Willow, DC, Star Wars and The Vampire Diaries.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? screaming at the cold, say the words as such, our hearts are hungry, this is where the heart lies and going up against it all. the fact that all of these are Star Wars fics and four out of the five are from NTCM. pls.

5. Do you respond to comments?  yes! I've set aside one day a week - Wednesdays - to respond to comments (and then a fic chapter or oneshot goes up on Thursdays.)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?  so there are actually a few that end angstily, some not on AO3 (I-F, I miss you.) but I've transferred at least one of those over here too so - Humari Adhuri Kahaani and Woh Miley The for them. and then love is not a victory march (ColdAtom I love you.).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?  oh! most have happy endings? so? i won't list them all. i am particular to the ones where i have Palpatine explode. that's always fun.

8. Do you get hate on fics?  not on fic though i have gotten comments that have made me go "you could have just not said anything". some people nitpicking the way i chose to write characters - in both the Star Wars and Pride And Prejudice fandoms.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?  so i challenged myself to do this a few years ago and i've written a bit but not much? i prefer writing around it for the most part.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?  none here but Haule Haule my beloved nonsense.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?  YES! it was a couple of Primeval one-shots.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?  way back when i was writing on ff.net @bhavvyyy and i started a fic that we never completed lmao.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?  ....... okay look, for the most part i'm a multishipper but Swanfire and PremHeer my beloveds.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?  i will finish the TVD fic some day - but the time travel Star Wars fic i haven't posted anywhere is one i hope to finish but i haven't touched it in literal years.

16. What are your writing strengths?  i think i do well at bringing out emotions. i've made enough people yell at me for it!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? keeping to a plot. outlining. finishing a draft of my novel.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?  absolutely done it will do it again i used to write fic for a Hindi serial and did full on dialogue in Hindi.

19. First fandom you wrote for? i think it was Charmed to be honest. it's been almost 20 years...

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?  this is liking choosing a favorite child (except in this case the fics won't yell in my ear for not choosing them but STILL). so i will turn the table on you and let me know which is your favourite of my fics you've read.

[em-harlsnow]

Weekly Tag Wednesday (Thursday - sorry I'm late)

Thank you for the tags @transsexual-dandelions and @spookygingerr

Name: Em

Age: 20

Your time zone: GMT?? (the UK - no idea what time zone icl)

What do you do for work: I go to Uni at the moment but at the weekends I stock shelves :)

Do you have any pets?: MANY I have three cats and a big German Shephard called Stan and I love them more than life

What first drew you to the fandom: I started watching because my best friend said that it seemed like something that I would like, I instantly became obsessed right around exam season which was really great fun, because I chose shameless over my revision

Morning person or night owl?: I'm a full night owl the mornings are not my time

What are your hobbies?: reading, writing, the gym, Tumblr I guess??, is shopping a hobby?, watching TV shows (just finished Peaky Blinders)

How tall are you?: 5’5" (almost)

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?: anywhere with good weather (why is it still raining when it's May??), I love Italy so maybe on the coast there.

Favourite color: It changes with the tides to be honest, but I've always loved pink.

Favourite book: The Shatter Me series was my ultimate favourite for a really long time but it might have been replaced with The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo. I also love the Handmaids Tale, but it's not exactly a comfort read.

Favourite movie?: I'm obsessed with movies, so I'll say my top three. Goodwill Hunting, Fight Club, Don't Worry Darling

Favourite fic: honestly, I can't choose. I love most things written by @sam-loves-seb I also love you make me feel human

Favourite musical artist: The Front Bottoms, Lana Del Rey, Eminem

What is your average screen time so far this week?: 4hrs 42mins which is lower than expected (this is the daily average right)

What’s the first app you open in the morning: easily my safari app to go on ao3 I need my fanfics to get me up

How long have you been on tumblr: only a couple months, I think I joined in February!

finally (and i know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself: I have been pierced a total of 13 times. I have 6 piercings to show for it because my body cannot deal with piercings as much as I would like it to. I can also solve a Rubik's cube and this is my biggest flex. I can read Tarot thanks to a phase I had when I was 13 and I got my first tattoo (stick and poke but someone lied because they DO NOT fade) when I was 14.

I won't tag anyone because I was a day late, but message me if you want to be tagged in any future games I play :)

<333

[pain-in-the-butler]

Hii!! I absolutely ADORE Coattails!!! Thank you so much for writing it!! I feel like you really understand the characters and the story in a way not many do, so I would really love to hear some of your headcannons about Ciel and Sebastian, maybe somethings you would have liked to write into the fic but just wouldn't have fit or made sense to the story^^^^ whether its individually or about their relationship, either would make me very happy!! Thanks again for creating something so precious and close to us. Have a nice weekend!!!

Well hi there, anon! Wow, thanks for all this enthusiasm, I'm super stoked you're into the story! I really appreciate all the hype!

Hmm, as for your questions, let me consider how to answer them... I already have a place for posting any Coattails drabbles, so if there's something I really want to write that won't otherwise work in the main story, you can count on it showing up there. But there have definitely been a few very short scenes over the years that I've cut or reworked as necessary! I'll compile what I can remember here:

Chapter 3: After Mey-Rin's backstory came out in the manga, I changed the scene where Sebastian asks her if she had ever hidden or lied after making a mistake as a kid. Initially, Mey-Rin had told Sebastian that she'd hidden after breaking an heirloom belonging to her father.

Chapters 10-17: The horse jockey plot actually changed a lot while it was being written. Initially, there was supposed to be a literal underground racetrack that Sebastian and Ciel would infiltrate, but during the two-year break between chapters 14 and 15, I decided that I didn't like it anymore and changed Hastings' ploy to be solely about developing the strength injection. I didn't originally plan for Sebastian to reveal he's a demon to Hastings either, but sometimes I just let my writing guide me and see what happens (that's most of the time, if I'm being honest).

Chapter 17: I played around with the idea of Ciel getting one of the strength injections and having to deal with its effects in the short term, but ultimately decided that Sebastian would be too attentive to allow this to happen. It wouldn't have added anything to the story either.

Chapter 26: I really wanted to include a scene where it's lightly implied that the person in the mascot costume at the Funtom event is Yana Toboso, since she's done that RL at the pop-up store, but the chapter already had waaay too much going on, so I nixed it.

Also, Sieglinde's existence is hinted at in chapters 26 and 27, and while she sadly won't make it into the main story of Coattails, I would love for her to meet Ciel and Sebastian in a post-story drabble!

If you were looking for more "deleted" scenes between Dadbastian and sonboy, usually when I come up with those they don't get removed because they're so central to the story. So, sorry I don't have much to provide! I usually do feel disappointed any time I have to do a time skip, because I imagine there must have been a sweet moment between those two during it that'll never be realized. I think small moments are just as important as the big ones, if not more so.

AH, but headcanons about Ciel and Sebastian, in terms of Coattails... Let me see... Well, I guess I'll share some of the things I keep in mind whenever I write the two of them!

Sebastian sometimes misses when things felt easier in their contract, but he doesn't want to go back to how it was before either

Sebastian's favorite thing lately is asking Ciel a question when he doesn't know how Ciel is going to answer it. He often has to restrain himself from being too overbearing

Sebastian's least favorite part of experiencing love is feeling like there's so much he has to worry about now (he doesn't know how to deal with all of his new worries yet)

Sebastian's favorite part of experiencing love is how different it is from anything he's known before. He really doesn't understand it at all yet but he's very curious about it

And now for Ciel headcanons:

Ciel feels that "current Sebastian" is easier to talk to, but doesn't yet trust him completely and isn't convinced that Sebastian's changes are for the better

Ciel hates everything about growing up because it means contending with the fact that he's not already an adult

Ciel talks with Sebastian more than Tanaka because he's afraid his emotions and his past would scare Tanaka

Ciel is pretty sure Sebastian knows he called him "father" one time but has vowed to never ever mention it (he'd rather not know)

Well, not all of them are happy, but I hope those HCs gave you something to consider while you wait for more story! I don't know when chapter 30 will be done yet, but when it is, you'll know! Thanks again for all your interest in Coattails! This was fun to write 😊

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

Shifted - The Plan (Chapter 1/?)

A/N: This is my Secret Santa gift for @jensengirl83 for @spnfanficpond's Secret Santa Fic Exchange! This is just Part 1 and I honestly don't know how many parts there will be or how often I'll get to post them. I have goals, but we'll see if I meet them. Anyway, Brandy mentioned in her list of wishes, "established relationship, fake dating, [that sort of thing]," and my brain did what it always does and became that girl from the taco ads. "Why not both?" I hope this makes you smile in spite of what I've done!

A/N2: This is not beta read by anyone, but both @torn-and-frayed and @katbratsupernaturalwhore have helped with brainstorming for this one!!

Summary: The Winchesters are meeting your family for the first time when you all visit for Christmas. Things don't go quite to plan.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word count: 1354 words in this part.

Warnings: So far, nothing. This will be updated as I go, though, if anything crops up. I'm posting as I write, for the first time EVER, so I can only say I hope this will be more fluff/crack than anything else.

Nerves fluttered in your belly as you directed Dean through your old neighborhood to your childhood home. Maybe the holidays weren’t the best time for your family to meet your boyfriend for the first time, but hunts had been keeping you away since you’d joined the Winchesters. Your parents didn’t know what you did, and you wanted to keep it that way so they wouldn’t worry about you. As far as they knew, you and the boys were private investigators, with the boys doing the more dangerous cases and you finding lost relatives and cheating spouses. Your family had no idea that you’d decapitated a vampire just the other day.

Sitting forward in the back seat so your head was almost in line with the brothers’, you tapped an erratic beat into Baby’s leather while you noted the changes since you’d been in town last.

“Honey?” Dean said to prod you out of your worried thoughts, “want me to turn on some music so you have a beat, or do you prefer the whacky drum solo you’ve got going on?”

Reflexively stilling your fingers by curling your hands into fists, you gulped and mumbled an apology. “Sorry. Just nervous. I’m not good at lying to my parents and my sister. I’m taking bets in my own head about how long into the weekend we’ll make it before they figure out I’m lying about almost everything.”

Sam turned back in his seat to look at you. “Hey, don’t stress about it too much or it will just get worse. Remember, keep the lies honest and—”

“—the extra details to a minimum,” you finished with him. Sam had been helping you get past your mile-wide honest streak so you could present yourself as an FBI agent without giving everything away in the first conversation with local law enforcement. Dean had always found subterfuge in those cases easy, but it was hard for you. Sam had taken you under his wing and coached you on how to improve without feeling like you were doing something bad. “I know, Obi-wan. But this is my family. They know all of my tells! I never got away with anything growing up! And they’re going to be judging how Dean and I are with each other to make sure we’re happy and everything, so anything that makes them doubt me will blow up in Dean’s face. And I like Dean’s face!” Giving Sam a playful smirk, you said, “It makes up for his hair!”

Dean’s injured outcry mingled with Sam’s laugh and your gigglesnort. “Since when are long, flowing locks a good idea in our profession, huh? My hair makes way more sense than Sam’s ridiculous mop.” He pouted in such a way that you knew he wasn’t hurt, but glad that you were able to joke around through your nerves.

Baby pulled onto the street where you grew up and into your parents’ driveway as you extolled the virtues of longer hair on men. “Yeah, but it’s nice to have something to hold onto sometimes, you know?” You winked as Dean glanced back at you and rolled his eyes with a smile while Sam groaned.

“I don’t need to know about what you guys do during your private time!” With a wave of his hand, he shifted away from you and Dean and looked out the window at the big house looming above the car. “Wow. Big house!”

“Yeah, it’s been in the family for generations. The taxes are hell. Anyway, there’s plenty of room for all of us.”

Just then, as Dean turned off the ignition, the door opened and your sister came out carrying a big box followed by your parents with more boxes and bags, heading to the garage. A million feelings swelled in your chest and made you smile. It had been a while, and you were happy to see your family again, in spite of your fears.

“Oh, shit,” Dean swore, looking at your family.

Your eyes nearly bugging out in worry, you looked at your boyfriend with panic. “What? What shit? No shit! There can’t be shit! What shit could there be? What shit, Dean???”

The panic on Dean’s face only made yours worse. “I think I met your sister before. Long story short, a while back, before we met you, a shifter decided to see how much tail Dean Winchester actually gets. He hit on a girl while wearing my face, went back to her place with her, and they started making out. I followed them, of course, looking for a chance to take him out and save her. She got a little too frisky, clawed him a little too roughly, and got an extra handful she didn’t want, because, you know, shifters shed. As she freaked out, he tried to calm her down, and when it didn’t work, he hit her. That’s when I busted in, grabbed him, dragged him out, and never looked back. I have no idea if she saw me clearly enough to know that I looked just like him. Who knows what she’ll think when she sees me!!”

Both you and Sam were staring at Dean, now, with jaws dropped, only half words coming out of your mouths. It took a couple of seconds for your brain to fully comprehend what Dean was saying.

“You mean, my sister thinks she picked you up in a bar, took you home, literally scratched your skin off, and then you were dragged off by your twin brother?

Your family was now exiting the garage, chatting amiably about something you couldn’t hear while you sat in Baby, trying to reconcile everything Dean was saying. Panic flooded your system.

“Yeah?” Dean answered though he sounded nervous and unsure. “She won’t hold it against me and tell your parents and make life difficult for us, will she?”

You turned on your boyfriend with panic in your eyes. “Of course, she will!! I’m her little sister, and you’re a douchebag with a skin condition!!! She’s going to rip you apart! Considering what she thinks she knows about your skin condition, she may try to actually rip you apart, thinking she can!”

Dean paled, while Sam focused on your family quickly approaching the car.

“Okay, so we’re just going to have to explain everything to at least your sister. Monsters, hunting, shifters, everything,” Sam said. “Maybe we can get your sister alone before she blows everything up to your parents.”

As Sam spoke, your sister stalled halfway across the driveway, staring at Dean. Your parents stopped walking a step later, turning back to see what had stopped your sister. Tracy gestured at Dean and said a few words, which was enough for your parents to stiffen up.

“Yeah, too late for that, I think,” you said, despair overtaking your panic. Your parents would never understand your need to hunt monsters. That was assuming they’d even accept that monsters exist and not throw you in the nuthouse immediately.

Half a second passed before Dean spoke up. “New plan: Sam, you’re Y/N’s boyfriend. I’m the shitheel brother who may or not be rapey. They won’t accept me as your boyfriend, but you can’t choose your boyfriend’s brother. I’ll figure out a story to apologize to your sister, get her to think I just look like the guy but I’m not the guy, or maybe that I’m the hero and not the molting rapist, so they at least don’t call the cops.”

Sam made a weird choking noise in chorus with an unusual whimper that came out of your mouth. But there was no time to argue. Your family was now standing outside the car and Dean was opening his door to get out. This was the worst plan, ever. Explaining that monsters were real would be faster and easier than this. But Dean was already out of the car, heading to the trunk to get your bags. You and Sam looked at each other with wide eyes but silently agreed that there was nothing you could do at this point but go along with the plan.

Part 2

Ye olde forever tags list: @datfandombitch @manawhaat @sammit-janet @littlegreenplasticsoldier @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @iwantthedean @growningupgeek @feelmyroarrrr @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @chelsea072498 @helvonasche @rizlowwritessortof @wheresthekillswitch @sandlee44 @icequeen1371 @tistai @pie-and-pudding @thelittleredwhocould @supernaturallymarvellous @ellen-reincarnated1967 @notnaturalanahi @salt-n-burn-em-all @fumar-et-flores @chalicia @smalltowndivaj @littlefreakingfangirl @straightestgay-voice @percywinchester27 @vanessa-monique-blog @lynn1712 @gallxntdean @antares1980 @hunterpuff @beffyblueeyes-blog @sammiesamness @cassieraider @emoryhemsworth @speakinvain @andkatiethings @latetothewinchesterparty @winchesterprincessbride @drakelover78 @calaofnoldor @idreamofplaid @akshi8278

[bellysoupset]

Hi Soup!

Just so you know, "🐆 anon" will be retiring now, as I am starting to use my blog to post. So yeah, that was me, and if for some reason I'm commenting on anon again, that would be me. ☺️

Well then.

Nooo, your stories haven't been boring! I'm loving the new Max and Vince relationship, seeing Wen and Vin succeed at long distance is so fulfilling, and I love seeing Jon's interactions with his family. Luke being jealous over Max is so funny to me, and I can't wait to see them deal with this. (Honestly, I'm shipping the throuple, but I'll love them all no matter what they do) I love being able to understand characters better, and I feel like all of these interactions are very character building, and will benefit any future developments.

It would be great for Jon to come back though... I miss him. I was thinking earlier today how I miss Jon/Wen interactions, and then remembered he's in Europe. But maybe we could get a phone call or something?

It's weird having Jon in Europe, and it takes away of lot of interaction possibilities, but I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, and I love seeing this other side of him. A lot of your characters have crappy parents, and I love that Jon has Jackie and Matteo that are turning out to be pretty good, and Angie rocks.

(I'd read a Bella fic with pregnancy-related talk... I'm loving Andy's Mila and Drew storylines, I'd love to see more authors talking about these topics)

Okay, question. (I found this prompt list a while ago that I've been going through with some of my characters: https://www.tumblr.com/judasrpc/687874557884907520/weirdly-specific-but-helpful-character-building)

So, my questions are (for any or all characters):

What's the lie your character tells the most?

What's a hobby they used to love that they don't do anymore?

As always, loving your writing!

Bro, I'm sorry I could swear I had answered this??

I'm so sorry!!

NOW! I kneeeew it was you! When you sent the first ask off anon I was like 🧐🧐🧐 I wonder if Jey is the leo anon!! I'm so happy to be proven right lol.

I'm following your characters bios and I'm very excited for your first story!

Look, my dramatic streak aside, I know my stories aren't boring per se, but sometimes I get the sensation I could be doing more with it, which was what I was being annoying about in the first place and now my inbox is filled with you lovely people reassuring me, but I swear it was never my intention! I just wanted like criticism, I guess? 🙈🙈 I'll shut up now

I'm so happy you're on board for so many of my creative choices. I miss Jon dearly, but he's coming back SOON, especially with the new Leo fic, cannot be away a minute longer. Also, you mentioned Vin/Wen winning at the long distance is fulfilling and I second this, because even as the author I was doubtful at first. My characters often do not obey me, so it was much to my delight as well.

I really like writing Jon with Jackie/Matteo, as you correctly clocked me I have a thing for damaged parent/kid's relationships (projecting yay!) and I feel like Jon and his fam all working to make it work this time around brings me a lot of comfort when I'm typing. Of course things aren't always perfect and not everyone can rekindle their broken relationships (many of my ocs!), but it's so nice to write someone who can!

I hear you about Bella! 👀

So for the questions, I'm so sorry my answer is already huge:

What's the lie your character tells the most?

I don't think my characters lie a lot, actually! Most of them are annoyingly honest, Jon-Wen-Bella, or naively honest, Vince-Luke. Leo and Max I guess are the ones who lie more often, Leo lies about being "busy" a LOT, the most creative lies, but truly all he wants is to stay home with his cat, his musical movies, his guy. He's probably killed his grandma whom he never met like 3 times already and he's really good at keeping track of his lies.

Max lies about minor stuff, just for a chuckle. It's more deadpan sarcasm than lying, I guess? But he also lies pretty much daily about his stomach, because he does not have the patience to explain time and time again that no, he's not chronically ill, he's just the God's most hated idiot. He'll go "no, I'm allergic to that" about literally any food that's offered and that he knows it's gonna upset his stomach. Some older teachers call him the "bubble boy" because of that older movie about a man who couldn't get out of his bubble.

What's a hobby they used to love that they don't do anymore?

Bella used to practice skating and she doesn't anymore, she cannot be bothered since their town is almost always raining.

Wendy has had every hobby under the sun, she's done pottery and jazz dance, but grew out of both.

Luke was obsessed with wordle for a hot minute, but nowadays he's let it go.

Vince isn't as big a reader as he once was, he used to be a total bookworm.

Max has hit a rough patch, he used to go hiking a lot, but for no bigger design, he kinda hit a slump and has been at home much more.

[firespirited]

Confession time. After destiel went canon and broke tumblr, I read the entire wiki for the main characters before watching the final episodes and felt the finale was so out of character that I mentally wrote a fix it fic.

Here is me writing it down in honour of the third anniversary. A show that to me: consists of 3 episodes, a lot of meta posts that trended over the years, jokes about loving your car, some manic wiki reading and that odd dude who inexplicably did iffy prolapse photomanip fanart.

I have made no attempts to polish this. The voices probably aren't right but I tried to write an open ending that stays true to characterisation (aka as tumblr presented these three beloved characters which may be the opposite of what the writers of manly male, rock loving, hunters with guns in a muscle car and dead girlfriends had in mind) .

We follow the final episode as it began except after the pie festival and the vamp mime first murder, they're off to hunt but a flaming meteor falls from the sky and they follow it in the car. It hits a field, they see a human figure, run and use their coats and feet to put out the flames. It's Cas. They put him in the car, they're all very shaken no answers to Sam's many questions, awkward glances in the mirror from Dean then Cas breaks his silence and asks for his slice of pie... the one in the glove box. Sam is confused, Dean looks like he's going to vomit.

We restart the episode from a different point of view: After Castiel got sent to the empty, Dean began praying to whomever, whatever would hear (silently or under his breath but constantly.) he thinks he might be insane from grief but after all he's seen he has the smallest hope) . Jack as God can't technically rewrite all the laws of the universe but he's receiving these "prayers". He smirks when he finds a bylaw that he can make a saint of Castiel so that prayers to him are redirected straight to him and cannot be diverted (heaven's bureaucracy is complex).

The empty has known no peace for six months. Dean's internal monologue of prayer has been echoing around and amplified the more the empty tried to create silence. The empty has tried to kill Dean so many times but he's got a protective barrier on his hand that looks like a scratch (placed by a grateful angel) so he's been dodging these deaths like it's looney tunes, completely unaware. (insert scenes of echoey overlapping narration of longing and yearning over near misses of murder by multiple means. For angst broken up by comedy)

Back to now, to the car. The brothers staring at Cas, Dean gets out of the car to hyperventilate and try to hold it together. We focus in on the ringing and rushing blood sound in his ears as Sam seems to be asking questions again and Cas seems to be talking. Sam gets out of the car, asks his brother if he's OK, he obviously lies and says Yes.

Sam sighs and says "Yeah clearly, you look fantastic. So uh Cas says he wants in on the vampire mimes and is eager to do more hunting evil... and I know it's not the time but damnit when is ever the right time? ... Look, when I talked about a more normal life, I meant it. We write our own stories and maybe it's time for you to go try something, anything else really. How about you take a vacation? Cas and I will handle things."

"I've, well, I've given normal life a lot of thought, I've never truly fit in and I could try but I can only fake it for so long. Funny, but when I allowed myself to daydream of a different life, I imagined careers that led me back to the road and back to making things right, you know? I think at the core, that's who I am... And, hey, since you brought it up, I never asked you if this life is the 'normal' you want....To be honest: I know it's not. and I didn't want to be alone, at least not these past few months, I know I've seemed fine but"

"Oh no no, you did not seem 'fine' but I wasn't going to go out of my way to point it out. You didn't even wash for days at your worst. You mumble under your breath sometimes. Those guns are cleaned down to the last speck of dust. I wasn't going to leave you alone, not ever."

"Okay - Ok.ay! Since we're here having the 'talk', aside from your duty as my brother, have YOU let yourself imagine what you'd want normal to be, for you?"

He blurts out "Eileen... It's Eileen. I know she's out there somewhere, I felt a strange pang and it was relief." he's speaking so fast "She's back. My mind races at the possibilities, I haven't dared to let myself start. I'm not sure how I want to live but I know it has to be with Eileen"

"I'm calling a taxi. You have a serious phone call and some travel ahead. Older brother's orders. I'll do the blood suckers"

"Work again. Will you ever open up about what's been going on with you? You wouldn't even tell me how Cas summoned the Empty."

"I, uh, these things take time, more of an actions over words kinda guy. *stares at phone* Oh your taxi is two minutes out."

"I don't know what to say"

"You don't have to say anything, you already told me through all you've done. Text me when you arrive safely, or don't, if you're otherwise occupied"

"You're the worst. And the best." They hug

A car pulls up, Sam yells at Cas though the window that they'll talk soon and to keep Dean out of trouble. Cas gives him a thumbs up.

Dean gets back into the car after watching the taxi drive away until it's completely out of view. He hands the vamp case notes to Cas to read, instead Cas puts them aside on the seat. "It could be the six months, it could be the new body: this appears to be an empty copy, my host was spared the empty thankfully. Yes it could be the new body but you were right this pie is exactly to my taste"

"I don't want to know do I?"

"Indeed, you'd be mortified, it's a word you used a lot about your inner conflicts but, you've faced hell, I promise that voicing your thoughts isn't as terrible."

"Uh your coat and top are burned and falling apart, here have my jacket."

"I mean, voicing your feelings can get you sent to the empty but that's the worst case scenario"

"Nice. Reassuring." *goes quiet*

A phone dings, Cas pulls it out of the jacket. "You have a new message from Sam: "Eileen fine and well, two exclamation marks" aww, he's going to Eileen? She's wonderful isn't she? "meeting at station at 3am. Capital T, A L K and get answers from Cas you idiot skull emoji skull emoji laugh crying emoji"

"Vamps first... then I need a drink" Dean looks out of the window with a mixture of apprehension and giddiness, there's a small smile creeping across his lips that fades into seriousness, there's a flash of fear, then the smile returns with a tremor as if despite himself.

Various old friends are sat around in heaven: they reminisce, they can't know the boys future but they know it's nothing they can't handle, the senseless cruelty is over.

[im-a-matt-girl]

whenever you are not loaded with requests and have time and to do write, could I please request a part 2 for the fic “lies”? With matt and the reader? I really loved it and think it would be so cute to see how it evolves from there on! <3 thank you lovie!

thank you, i would love to continue this story ♡

part I here:

When we get back to your house, we hold hands as we walk to your room. You close the door behind us, set your keys down onto your desk, and look at me intently. You lean in to kiss me, but I put my hand on your chest to stop you.

"We need to talk, first," I tell you in a low voice.

You look genuinely surprised. "About what?" you ask me.

"I want to ask you the same questions you asked me at the Warehouse," I say, looking into your eyes. I take you by the hand and lead you to your bed. We sit down together, and I tenderly hold both of your hands in mine. "I may not be a lie detector, but I would like to know the truth. Will you be honest with me, please?"

"Mhm," you nod, sincerity radiating from your eyes. "Of course."

"Okay," I say, taking a breath and smiling softly at you. I trust you completely. "Do you consider us to be friends?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, you're my girlfriend now," you grin.

"What about before? Before you asked me, did you consider us to be just friends? Or did you always want to be something more?"

Your cheeks and ears flush pink, and your eyes flicker. "Of course we were friends…" you stammer. "But I… well, I've… I mean…"

I lean toward you and whisper into your ear, "Did you always have a crush on me?"

You nod. "I mean... you're really... attractive, and… once I got to know you, I…"

I keep nodding at you, trying to encourage you to finish your sentences. Our faces are slowly inching closer together, as though attracted by magnetism.

"I wanna kiss you," you whisper to me, putting your hands around my back gently.

"I want to kiss you, too," I confess quietly. "How long have you wanted to kiss me?"

"A long time," you breathe.

"Then do it," I whisper.

You delicately press your lips against mine, and I close my eyes in response. Our kiss only lasts for a second or two, but it feels like ecstasy. We open our eyes to look at each other, and then I pull you back in for more.

"Matt," I murmur against your lips.

"Mhm," you hum against mine.

I lean against you until you are lying down on your bed, and I am on top of you, still kissing you. "I don't ever want to stop kissing you."

You shake your head. "Mm-mm," you say, cupping my face in your hands, your lips still attached to mine. "No. I wanna kiss you forever."

As I continue kissing you, a part of me wonders why we waited so long to kiss. All of those opportunities we had, and we came so close many times, but we never did until now. Another part of me is glad that it's happening right now; the build-up was worth it. And the last part of me hopes that we will kiss far, far into the future as well.

[theragnarokd]

Same anon that was going to commission! I feel that about feeling obligated to do something. I wouldn't want to burn you out or anything.

The prompt wasn't anything super special honest I just really wanted to see you write something ABO but where Jake is an omega? It's something I don't think I've ever seen or at least haven't seen often but thought you could pull off because your alpha4alpha fic? Chef kiss lol

I'm also a sucker for internalized omegaphobia

I hope this doesn't come off demanding in any way? I would never force an artist I enjoy to make content and I don't mean for it to be, honest! I just really love the way you write. Please keep up the good work.

Also, slightly on slight off topic, I am so excited for the next update of the "If life gets too much to stand, kneel". You write Dirk's panic so well! I have panic attacks that classify as psuedoseizures and sitting here going "Ah! One of my favorite guys! He's experiencing my kind of pain!" was weirdly comforting and also worrying. You really sucked me in ha ha

Oooh. Iiiinteresting. (And thank you!)

One of the things I'm thinking about recently is Jake's approach to masculinity, which could pretty easily be translated into alpha Ness - his favourite adventurers are mostly big strong alphas. So when asked how he presented, he lies - of course he does.

It's also a question of what Dirk is in this verse. On one hand I enjoy the easiness of alpha/omega pairings sometimes, NGL - but I also like queerer stuff, so making dirk omega as well might be interesting. Otoh Jake deserves to get knotted a lil. As a treat.

Anyway, this is interesting and I'd like to ponder it further - if you come off anon and/or send me a discord handle I'd love to throw some ideas around with you.

[ollieofthebeholder]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks @fridayyy-13th for the tag!

How many works do you have on Ao3? 64!

What's your total Ao3 word count? Holy...! Uh, 1,700,611. (I should've guessed, I've got some ultra-long fics on there, but Jesus Christ on a cracker.)

What fandoms do you write for? These days, mostly The Magnus Archives. I've also written for Star Trek (primarily the AOS/Kelvin films), the MCU/Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Cut & Run, and RQG. I've got a couple of very, very old Sherlock fics, a couple PJO fics from some ship week challenges I took part in back when the Heroes of Olympus books were still coming out, a couple WTNV fics, a few Star Wars fics that never made it to AO3, and three one-offs.

What are your top five fics by kudos? leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall) - 1,758 kudos Had He Known It - 777 kudos Whiskey Lullaby - 395 kudos It Was Just My Imagination Telling Lies - 378 kudos Hurry Up and Slow Me Down - 349 kudos

Do you respond to comments? Every single one! It's half the fun to me.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ooh...that's a toughie, actually, but I'm going to go with Where the Road Waits to be Taken because it's the only one where the ending focuses on the people left behind.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Also a toughie! But I'm going to go with Love Will Find Out the Way.

Do you get hate on fics? Not so much anymore. I've been around long enough that I definitely used to, but I write for saner fandoms now.

.Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Not these days. I'm asexual and, while I'm personally sex-averse, my tolerance for it in fiction kind of goes in cycles. I think the last time I wrote an explicit sex scene was in 2016 or 2017.

.Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Heh...I do, on occasion. Most recently the WTNV/TMA crossover (the full extent of which hasn't been published yet), which isn't that crazy. I think the craziest one I wrote was the Sherlock/Star Trek crossover that was also (sigh) a HP AU...which I have deleted, so sorrynotsorry.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not as far as I know, but I don't exactly go looking.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Again, not as far as I know.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Uh...technically? My brother had an idea for a fic, but he wasn't old enough to join any fanfic websites at the time (we were probably the only two kids who never lied about our age on the internet to join websites), so he dictated it to me, I fleshed it out and posted it under my username.

What's your all time favorite ship? I love so many, but I have to say, the only ship I love that I genuinely can call an OTP in that I cannot fathom them in a relationship with anyone else (even adding anyone else to the equation) is Cecilos. JonMartin is a close second, but, well, I can see (and frequently enjoy) them also having other people in their relationships. Cecil and Carlos? Nuh-uh.

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Ooh. There are...a couple. But I have a WIP sitting in my Tumblr drafts that was a sequel to Hurry Up and Slow Me Down that I would very much like to finish someday...I just, yeah.

What are your writing strengths? Angst and heartbreak. I've got a gift for descriptions, and I'm really good at conveying emotion in text. And I think I have a knack for putting together a tasty sentence.

What are your writing weaknesses? I do tend to get hung up on irrelevant details, and I frequently think myself into a corner. I also think I tend to obsess sometimes about things being perfect...and if I'm being honest, a big weakness of mine (not just in my writing, but in general) is that I often feel like it's something I need to apologize for, which is not helpful.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Oh, I love doing that! I try to put a translation in hover text, and also in a footnote for benefit of screen readers, but I also try not to burden the actual text with translations. It's one of those "trust the reader to know what you're trying to say, and if they can't figure it out from context, you have failed as a writer" things to me. (This may have something to do with the fact that I used to write Star Trek fanfic, and conlangs are a thing.)

First fandom you wrote for? If you want to get technical, Power Rangers; I used to tell myself stories about the Power Rangers to put myself to sleep at night when I was a little kid, and once I wrote one down and read it out loud for Show and Tell. (The opening line was "One night, when Kimberly and Trini were sleeping, they were stolen," which should tell you everything you need to know about it. In my defense, I was seven.) I didn't know that's what it was at the time, though. If you're talking fandoms that I wrote for knowing it was a fandom and published on the internet...well, I grew up in the '90s and turned thirteen in the early '00s, so it probably shouldn't be that big of a surprise that it was HP.

Favorite fic you've written? It's like asking me to pick a favorite child. I am deeply in love with to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest) even if the next chapter is currently frustrating me a bit, because I am always deeply in love with my current project, because I love the way it showcases how I've grown as an author. That being said, I think my favorite fic that is currently complete might actually be Tomorrow When the World Is Free.

Tagging (absolutely no pressure) @blasphemous-lies-and-deceit, @amberastra, @magnetarmadda, @astudyinfic, @dyscalculated, and anyone else who wants to give this a go!

[fragilelovelythings]

😅 and 🎉 for the emoji asks?

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

As I generally opt for being blatantly honest, I have to say that after printing my current ongoing fic, 'Eunuch Besties' (Succession) I felt the oh-so-called cringe while reading it. Most of the fic felt pretty weird and I think it happened about my insecurities. I had never written something (prose, narrative) in English before, and my inner critic got to relish in aspects of my writing that maybe, I hadn't seen before. I know this sounds like an apology, and maybe it is to myself. I have been since July so excited about the fact of actually writing fanfics again that I omitted its quality. I mean, I had the plot for the story and I went full-board with it. So, because of that, I barely have gone back to it to reflect on its content and my writing style. I just kept writing, happily to feel ideas flowing and giving form to a story that I hadn't yet read before. I am a very enthusiastic fanfic reader, been for years, so I just vomited most of the chapters crossing my fingers and hoping for the best.

Now, I recently got a dear friend of mine, who is also a linguistic expert and an avid reader to check on it, and she said it felt like a draft. And maybe it is. Again, I am still in awe of myself for being able to write anything, considering that I wrote like a possessed in my teen years and then well, I stopped when I began my undergraduate and postgraduate studies. I am now in my thirties and decided to just do whatever I wanted in terms of my life and my artistic aspirations. 'Eunuch Besties' is now on chapter 9, and I've written 50, 724 words (wtf) aiming to end this story by chapter 10 and actually realizing I'm far from putting a pin to it.

There are scenes of course that felt odd to me, dialogues even, and the struggle to find the characters' voices and make them feel in character is something that I have felt more than once embarrassed on its outcome.

I've got two other fics (Loki) which came when I was around chapter 7 I think on 'Eunuch Besties', and those two other fics feel pretty different. Perhaps after practicing, with 'Be my once in a Lifetime' and 'Built yourself a Myth' I feel more confident about how I'm writing.

So maybe yes, I am a smidge embarrassed about my first fic, but I love it deeply because is the one that has been giving me so much happiness that I do not want to stop writing it. 🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Reflecting on what leads me to consider a fic a success, I'd say I have mixed opinions/feelings about it. On one hand, the count of hits on AO3 does tell you about how many times, probably, the story is being read. So for example, on my Lokius fic 'Be my once in a lifetime' the hit count is 5,074, and is the fic I usually receive more kudos every now and then. But, does that really make me think it's successful? I'm not sure. The same fic has 261 Kudos which, again, are the likes on A03. I get why it's a 'popular' fic and I actually wrote it during Loki's fandom at its peak. I just wanted to contribute and indulge myself from a block on my Succession' one as well as write a smutty PWP. And it worked.

Then the whole deal on comments is for me another different story. I find it hard to get comments on my 3 published fics and this does worry me about the quality of my writing. But, after reading about this insecurity from other writers, I have to remember that not every person feels confident enough to just say 'Hi! I like this fic!' and that's alright. I got a comment like that on chapter 8 from an anon daring for the first time on leaving a comment and sharing with me how much he/she/they adore my work. This fellow reader said that even RE READS my fic. So here, I do believe lies success. Engaging with a fic, with a story that becomes sth that you decide to go back at again and wait for its updates, god, I think it's when you've actually created sth others find solace/fun/distraction/happiness/entertainment in that said fic is success.

Thank you so much for asking these questions :') I loved providing answers to them.

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Love Everlasting.

A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 19.8 K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

TW: murder/execution and blackmail. If you are sensitive to any of those topics do not read any further. if you choose to continue on: THIS WILL BE YOUR ONLY WARNING! READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED!

It's King Liam Appreciation Week! And y'all know me. I am a King Marquise (Liam) Stan! So to publish the latest chapter of Love Everlasting during this week is a MAJOR PLUS for me. I hope you enjoy Part One! 😘

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @kingliamappreciationweek @txemrn @peonierose @shewillreadyou @twinkleallnight

Chapter 11.) Fate. Part 1.

Shanelle stood beside her husband as he hung up the phone. His Majesty had just issued his first arrest warrant for murder. For his ex, Princess Naya Laurent.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

“To be honest, no. But I have no choice. She poisoned Tariq.” Marquise replied.

“How can you be sure?” Shanelle asked.

Marquise sighed deeply.

“Trace amounts of Cantarella were found in the tissue sample collected,” he replied.

“Cantarella?” she asked.

“It's a type of poison that is identical to arsenic. Allegedly, it was used back during the time of Pope Alexander VI,” he replied.

“It's scary that you know that.”

Marquise shrugged. 

“I have to know it. I studied poisons, remember?”

“I stand by my statement. Thank you very much.”

“Besides, it's been banned in Cordonia since the 1600s.” 

“Why?” she asked.

“Because it's part of why Queen Kendra was killed,” he replied.

“There's a story there.”

Marquise settled into his chair. 

“In its purest form, Cantarella is a powerfully potent tranquilizer. If it's burned and then inhaled it can leave you comatose. If it's ingested it slowly poisons your bloodstream and causes organ failure. When King Fabian found out that it was burned the night his aunt was killed, he banned it from the realm except for a small sample. He wanted it to be studied so a cure could be made. But as I said, that was centuries ago.”

“Okay well, that explains how she got her hands on it. Her dad was a King right?” she asked. 

Marquise shook his head no. 

“King Elgin never knew about it,” he replies.

Marquise sighed.

“This is about to be a PR nightmare.”

“Why? You have evidence that she killed her husband.” 

“I have an autopsy report that shows the poison was in his system when he died, yes. But now I have to prove where she got it and how she used it to kill him. Not to mention I also have to figure out why she killed him.”

Shanelle wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

“It's a tall order but we will get it done.”

Marquise shook his head no.

“I will get it done. You're not getting involved in this.”

“It's cute that you think you have a choice in the matter. Per the law, Your Majesty, any time a noble is accused of a high crime like murder, their trial requires BOTH the King and Queen to sit at the head of parliament as the case is being heard. But only the first reigning Monarch can hand down the fate of said noble. So whether you like it or not, I’m in.”

Marquise groaned. 

“You have a grudge against Naya. Your being there could make you look biased.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“I know how to compartmentalize my personal feelings towards her so they don't get in the way of the trial thank you very much.”

“I'm not saying that you don't. What I’m saying is that knowing you and your history with her, you wouldn't necessarily be entirely fair to her. She at least deserves a fair trial. Unless you want us to be seen like the former Monarchs.” 

Shanelle sighed.

“Okay fine, I see your point. But I promise that I can and will take whatever personal feelings I have toward Princess Naya out of this situation for the good of the kingdom and this trial.”

Marquise raised an eyebrow.

“Swear to it.”

Shanelle groaned.

“I swear to you my King, I will be fair and honest during her trial.”

Marquise nodded.

“Good. Now the arrest warrant should be here soon. So get ready for a media circus.”

“Yay!” Shanelle deadpanned. 

There was a subtle knock at his door.

“Come in,” Marquise announced.

An attendant dressed in black and silver entered the room carrying an envelope.

“Apologies my King but I have the arrest warrant. All that is needed is your and Her Majesty’s signatures.”

“Very well.”

The attendant opened the envelope and placed the warrant on Marquise’s desk.

“Well, this is it. Are you ready?” Shanelle asked her husband.

Rather than answer, Marquise set his jaw and then signed the warrant before handing the pen to Shanelle. Once she signed her name, he took out his small jar of clay and sealed the warrant before handing it back to the attendant.

“With this now signed warrant, you are to arrest Princess Naya Laurent at her home. You will not disturb anyone within her house or duchy. Is that clear?” Marquise asked the attendant.

“Yes, my Liege.” the attendant replies.

“Good. You have your orders.” 

With a curt nod, the attendant left the room as quietly as he came. Marquise let out a breath he’d been holding in.

“I can tell this is affecting you,” Shanelle said to him.

Marquise shook his head.

“Of course it is. Naya may be a lot of things but a murderer?” he asked.

“She's been spiraling for years, Marquise,” Shanelle replies. 

“This is true. Which is why this is so bizarre. Tariq made a deal with me to keep her out of a dungeon. Not because he had to but because he loved her. He knew that if the court found out she tried to kidnap you, it would ruin both of them. It doesn't make any sense why she would kill him. He's the reason she has any freedom.”

“It didn't make any sense when she tried to kidnap me all those years ago but still she did it.”

Marquise ran a frustrated hand down his face. 

“Look. I'm not the only one with a history with her. You have a history with her too. Yours is more intimate but still. At the end of the day, we have jobs to do. This trial is happening. Her murder charge is real. So we both need to compartmentalize our personal feelings about her and remember the facts. She murdered her husband and we need to find out why.” Shanelle said to her husband.

Marquise took a deep breath. 

“I know. I'll be fine.”

“Good. When will the trial start?” Shanelle asked.

“Ideally I want to start it as soon as possible. But I’m thinking after Khari starts school Friday,” he replies.

“Okay. Do I need to do anything?” she asked.

“No. My advisors will convene the Heads Of State. And Carlo will get to be a prosecutor.” he replies. 

“Carlo?” she asked.

“Yes. Whenever a noble is on trial for a crime like this the Keeper is the prosecutor,” he replies.

“And realistically what will we do?” she asked.

“As heads of the Monarchy and Parliament, we will get to ask both the prosecution and defense questions about evidence, witnesses, dates and times, that sorta thing during the trial. And once both sides have rested, the Parliament will convene and decide whether or not to convict or acquit. If she is convicted, it's up to me to decide whether or not she lives or she dies.” he replies.

“So basically I get to be Briscoe and you get to be Green?” she asked.

“No. This is not an episode of Law And Order! Besides you’re Green. I'm Briscoe. Thank you very much.” he replies.

“Why do you get to be Briscoe?” she asked. 

“Because he was the senior detective. And since I am the King…”

Shanelle sucked her teeth.

“Yeah yeah.”

“When was the last time a trial like this happened?” she asked.

Marquise thought for a minute. 

“I'll have to check with Carlo but I believe it was when my great-grandfather Leonidas was King. One of the nobles at that time was accused of spying on the Crown for another kingdom during WWII.”

“Wow!”

“So get ready my love. We're in for the trial of the century.”

The next few days were a whirlwind for the couple. Starting with their daughter finally starting school. And Her Majesty was anything BUT okay. She dreaded having to take her baby to her first day of school but she knew she had to. As they walked Khari to her class Shanelle’s emotions weren't having it. And Khari noticed.

“Now Mommy,” Khari said as she took her mother’s hands, “promise me that you'll be okay while I’m at school today.”

Shanelle wanted to die. She didn't want to let her baby go.

“…I promise,” she said sadly to Khari.

“Don't be sad Mommy! You still have Daddy.”

Shanelle’s bottom lip just quivered. 

“Mommy I gotta be a big girl now. Right Daddy?” Khari asked her father. 

“That's right my love. You’re a big girl now. Mommy knows that.” he replied.

“See Mommy?” Khari asked.

Shanelle whimpered and finally swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Okay, baby. Have fun at school today.” Shanelle finally spoke.

Khari hugged her mother. 

“I will! I gotta go! I love you! Byeeeeee!” Khari said before she took off to her class.

That's when Shanelle broke and Marquise had to drag her back to their car.

“Myyyyyyyyyy babyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!” Shanelle cried as they rode back to the palace.  

When they finally got back to the residence Marquise just looked at her. 

“Jesus Christ woman!” Marquise said before shaking his head, “And you have the nerve to always call me overdramatic. She's fine. We knew this day was coming.”

“That doesn't mean I like it!” she snapped at him with tears in her eyes.

He sighed then led her to a bench where they sat down and pulled her close as she cried. 

“I know you don't,” he spoke softly

“I don't like her not being with us. We are where she's safe. If anything happens to her—” she tried to say before her words were choked off by a sob.

“Shhhh! It's okay. As much as we hate it, my love, we can't stop her. She's a big girl now. She's ready to grow. She's ready to step out into the world.”

“You probably think I’m being ridiculous.” 

Marquise shook his head. 

“Not entirely. You’re a mother first and foremost. Your first instinct is to protect. And no one has protected our daughter more than you. No one has nurtured her more than you have. But she's more than just the Crown Princess of Cordonia who goes to ballet, voice, dance, painting, and piano lessons. While she succeeds at all of them she's ready to be around kids her age. She's ready for sleepovers and friends. The things we had as kids. Well, you more than me but I digress. She's ready to show the world who she is and who she can be.” 

Shanelle nodded her head. 

“I just love her so much that I…” she trailed off to get a hold of herself.

“Khari knows that. She knows that you're proud of her. And that you want her to do her best. That's how we've raised her to be.”

Shanelle smiled softly. Marquise kissed her forehead.

“Now dry your eyes. Because she’ll be home soon with a whole bunch of stories.”

A few days later, the couple were deep in conversation about their daughter's birthday party.

“While Khari’s at school, you and I can talk about the logistics of her birthday this year.”

He led Shanelle to a side garden where breakfast was waiting on them.

“Way ahead of you. It's happening at the winery.” 

“Wonderful!” 

“Sir. You will not be drinking at my daughter's birthday party.”

Marquise pouted. 

“I don't need your big ass hobbling around the winery drunk.”

“I beg your pardon madam! I will have you know that I can hold my liquor!” 

“Funny how you couldn't hold it that one time we were hosting a state dinner.”

Marquise made a face. 

“My drink was spiked!”

“That's funny. Because mine wasn't. And we were drinking from the same wine bottle.”

Marquise grumbled. 

“What is this giant teddy bear grumbling about now?” Margo asked as she stepped into the garden.

“Watch your tone or you'll be out of a job woman!” Marquise warned.

“Hah! You fire me now and you'll be a headless King by the time the Princess gets through with you.” Margo shot back.

“She doesn't get a say.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that. One look at her and you'll fold like a cheap ass lawn chair.” 

“What are you implying, my Queen?” he asked.

“That you’re a pushover for your daughter and that you’ll be even worse when the twins get here,” Margo replied.

“She's not wrong.” Shanelle piped up.

Marquise groaned.

“Had I known you two would constantly gang up on me I wouldn't have gotten married.”

“But you did. And now you’re stuck with us.” Shanelle said.

“So get used to it, Your Majesty.” 

Marquise groaned as Shanelle and Margo laughed. 

“If I didn't love you two as much as I do.”

Just then an attendant dressed in black and silver entered the garden.

“Pardon the interruption, my Liege, but I have news for you.”

“Go ahead,” Marquise said to the attendant.

“The arrest warrant for Princess Naya Laurent-Miller has been carried out.”

Marquise nodded. 

“Where is she now?” Marquise asked.

“She is being processed before she is to be placed in a dungeon,” the attendant replied.

“Instead of a dungeon, keep her under heavy guard at one of the safe houses in the city center. Do not tell her husband anything about her whereabouts until the start of the trial.”

The attendant nodded.

“Take great care, do not let a word about this slip. Is that clear?” Marquise asked.

“Yes, my King.” the attendant replies.

“Good. Now you have your orders.” 

“By your command, my Liege.”

The attendant bowed to Shanelle and Margo.

“My Queen. Madam Geaneaux,” he said to them before leaving. 

“Naya? Arrested?” Margo asked. 

“Yes,” Marquise replied.

“Whatever for?” Margo asked.

“Murder,” he replies.

Margo gasped loudly.

“Murder?! What in the world?!” 

“Of Tariq.” Shanelle piped up.

Margo looked at Marquise. 

“I thought Tariq died of organ failure.”

Marquise shook his head no.

“That's what we all thought. But something always nagged me about the suddenness of his death. So I had his body exhumed and had an autopsy done. Turns out that he was poisoned.” 

“Poisoned?! My God! With what?” Margo asked.

“Cantarella,” Marquise replied.

Margo’s eyebrows shot up.

“Impossible. Cantarella has been banned since the time of your ancestor King Fabian. It is said that he kept a small sample of it hidden when a cure for the poison couldn't be made or found. But no one is supposed to know where he hid it.” 

“Well somehow it was found and used. And now we have a murder trial to prepare for.” 

Margo shook her head. 

“Lord Tariq was pretentious as all hell I'll admit, but that's no reason to poison him. It just makes no sense.”

“Well, we'll find out why she did it next Wednesday. That is when her trial will begin.”

Margo nodded.

“Very well, Your Majesty.”

Marquise nodded to Margo before looking at his wife.

“In the meantime, I have a meeting with Carlo about the trial that I can't miss. While you have a checkup to get to. I'm sorry I have to miss your appointment.”

“It's okay. I probably shouldn't have scheduled it at the last minute.”

“You'll call me if you need anything, yes?”

“Yup. Margo will go with me so I'll be fine.”

“Alright. I'll see you both later.” 

With a sweet kiss to his wife, His Majesty was off to meet with his cousin. When he got to his office, Carlo was waiting.

“Good morning cousin. I hope I wasn't keeping you long.” Marquise said in greeting.

“Not at all, my King. I had just gotten here maybe 5 minutes before you.” Carlo replied.

“Please have a seat so we can get started,” Marquise said as both took their seats.

“Well, this is quite the predicament we find ourselves in, cousin. Charging a noble, much less a female noble at that, with murder is highly unorthodox.” Carlo said to Marquise.

“I understand. But I can't just ignore the fact that a man was killed with a poison that has been banned for centuries.”

“What poison?” Carlo asked.

“Cantarella. It was found in a tissue sample that was taken when I had Lord Tariq Sauvageon’s body exhumed.” Marquise replied. 

Carlo nodded.

“And you think that Naya used it to kill her husband?” Carlo asked.

“Yes, I do,” Marquise replied.

“But why?” Carlo asked.

“That's for you to find out, Carlo. After all, you’re the prosecution,” Marquise replied.

“Very well. I will finish preparing my opening statement and I will see you Wednesday, Your Majesty.”

Marquise nodded. 

“I just have to ask Marquise. Given the history she has with you and your wife, can you and Shanelle be impartial?” Carlo asked.

“Of course. This is a serious charge, Carlo. I don't have time to be emotional about Naya. I am a King. I have a job to do and a responsibility to uphold.” Marquise replied.

“Very good. I shall take my leave now. I'll see you Wednesday.” 

Marquise watched Carlo walk out before getting on with his day. He had just finished lunch when there was a knock at his door. 

“Come in,” he called out.

When he looked up, a group of guards walked in escorting Naya with them.

“The prisoner as you requested my King.” the lead guard announced. 

“Thank you, gentlemen.”

Naya sat down across from Marquise with her chains making a loud clunking sound.

“Those won't be necessary.” Marquise indicated to the chains around her wrists and ankles. “I trust the Princess isn't stupid enough to try me.” 

With a curt nod, a guard unlocked the shackles. 

“Thank you. That will be all.”

The guards left the room, leaving Marquise alone with his former love.

“Well you certainly know how to make life difficult don't you?” he asked Naya.

She remained silent. Just glaring daggers at him. Which made him chuckle.

“The silent treatment eh? Very well. We’ll play this your way.” 

Marquise dialed a number on his office phone.

“Yes my King?” a voice answered.

“Get in contact with Donnie Brine. Tell him to go ahead and run the story.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

When Marquise hung up the phone, Naya had a terrified look on her face. 

“I suggest you start talking, Princess.”

“I've done nothing wrong!” Naya blurted out.

“I didn't know murdering your former husband was considered doing nothing.” 

“Murdering my former husband?! You're insane Marquise! I would never kill Tariq!” 

“Then explain to me how Cantarella got into his system.”

“What did you say?” she asked sheepishly.

“Cantarella. I take it that it's ringing a bell?” he replied.

He watched Naya shift in her seat uncomfortably. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't. As far as I'm concerned this whole situation was orchestrated by your wife as a witch hunt!”

That's when Marquise presented Naya with the autopsy report. 

“Then explain this.”

Naya went pale as she read the report. 

“This is your only chance, Naya. What happened?” he asked.

Naya looked at him trying not to be scared out of her mind. 

“How did you…”

“You're not saying anything.”

Naya remained quiet. 

“Have it your way. Guards!” he called out.

“Wait!” she blurted out.

“Are you ready to talk?” he asked.

Naya nodded her head yes.

“Start talking.”

He watched her hang her head with tears. 

“I…I…I didn't mean it.”

“You didn't mean what?” he asked.

“I didn't mean to kill him! I swear!” she replied. 

“You expect me to believe that you poisoned him accidentally?” he asked.

“I didn't know it was poison until after he died. The original coroner's report confirmed that it was Cantarella that killed him. I knew that if you, his parents, or anyone else found out I’d be screwed so I begged the coroner to change the cause of death on the report.” she replied.

Marquise shook his head.

“You killed an innocent man Naya. I can't overlook this.”

Naya scoffed. 

“My late husband was a lot of things. Innocent was never one of them.” she sneered.

“What are you talking about? He loved you.”

“That's what he wanted people to think. In reality, I was just a trophy to him. A reason to elevate him and his parent's station. I was nothing more than a glorified contractual obligation.”

Marquise shrugged. 

“You agreed to the betrothal Naya. You were even given a chance to back out of the marriage before you got married.”

“And what good would that have done me?! It wouldn't have erased my father's debt and it wouldn't have brought you back to me so what other choice did I have?” she asked.

“If you were that unhappy why didn't you ask for a divorce?” he replied.

“I tried! I begged Tariq for a divorce. I even told him that I wanted nothing from him. I just wanted our marriage to be over but he said no. He was going to make sure that I kept up my family’s end of the agreement. I even went to your father and asked him to grant me a divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences and even he refused. He said, while he understood why I wanted a divorce, it was none of his or the Monarchy’s business to get involved in our personal affairs.” she replied. 

“You could've come to me.”

Naya scoffed.

“Oh please! You would've been no better than King Constantine. Besides, you've had your head way too far up your commoner wife’s ass to care about me.”

“If you're trying to be funny, you just failed.” 

“There was nothing you could do for me.”

“For the record, had you come to me I would have granted you your divorce if you were that unhappy. But it's not just the divorce that you wanted. You wanted the divorce and you wanted me to leave my family for you.” 

Naya looked down at her hands.

“We should still be together. We belong together,” she whispered.

“For the love of God! Let it go Naya!”

Naya went to say something but instead suddenly clutched her stomach.

“Are you sick?” he asked.

Naya shook her head no. 

“When your guards came to arrest me, I had just gotten back from my doctor's appointment.” 

“Okay and? What does that have to do with this conversation?” he asked.

“I had a blood test done. And it confirmed that I'm pregnant,” she replied.

Marquise looked at her skeptically.

“You're lying.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Then why am I just now hearing about this?” he asked.

“Because you have me charged with murder Marquise!” Naya replied.

Marquise raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Naya, where did you get the poison?” Marquise asked.

Naya swallowed hard. 

“Answer the question Naya.”

“I don't have to tell you anything else,” she replied.

“Is that your final answer?” he asked.

“Yes. I no longer wish to speak with you without my legal counsel present,” she replied.

“Very well,” he said to her before calling out to the door. “Guard!” 

The guards entered the room.

“Take the prisoner back,” Marquise instructed. 

Just then Marquise’s phone pinged. 

“Well now you've just made front-page news,” he said as he showed her the headline that was going across his phone. “Also since you claim to be pregnant, you have 24 hours to produce proof of this pregnancy.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Naya asked.

“That sounds like a you problem not a me problem. Get this woman out of my sight,” he replied.

Marquise watched his guards escort Naya out of his office. 

As Naya was escorted out she ran into Shanelle as she was coming back from her appointment. 

“Hello, Princess or should I say, soon-to-be former Princess?” Shanelle said to Naya.

“Go fuck yourself, Your Majesty!” Naya sneered. 

“Why do that when I can fuck the man you'll never have?” Shanelle asked smugly. “Get this bitch outta my palace!”

Shanelle watched as Naya was hauled away before walking into her husband’s office.

“You met with the suspect without me?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes,” Marquise replied.

“What did she tell you?” Shanelle asked as she sat down.

“Nothing outside of the fact she claims she's pregnant,” he replies.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Naya?! Your ex?! Is pregnant?!” Shanelle asked 

“That's what she told me,” he replies.

“Geez!”

“She has 24 hours to prove it though.”

“If she actually is pregnant God help us all.”

Marquise nodded as she joined him behind his desk. 

“Indeed. How was your appointment?” 

“It was good. She decreased my blood pressure meds and increased my potassium and iron intake. She said my levels aren't where she wants them to be.” 

“You're not anemic are you?” 

“Yes. Because this pregnancy is more than one baby, anemia is to be expected.” 

Marquise nodded.

“That means you need more iron in your diet, my love. I’ll call the kitchens to make sure that you are given more iron-rich foods.” 

“Yes, Mom.” 

He cut his eyes at her. 

“Don't get smart with me.” he snapped at her. 

“Ooh! Someone’s in a mood today.”

Marquise sighed. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you.”

“You can make it up to me by buying me a Birkin.”

“I take it back,” he muttered. 

He placed a hand on her belly. 

“And how are my little ones?” he asked.

“Still playing too damn much. They're not in position!” Shanelle complained. 

Marquise tapped a finger on her stomach. 

“Hello, my little ones. I'm not sure if you can hear me but Daddy needs you two to do him a big favor. I need you both to prepare for your debut. That includes the two of you getting into your birthing position. Daddy can't hold either of you if you two aren't in position.”

Shanelle laughed. 

“You love talking to them.” 

“Of course. It helps in their development before birth. Besides, I like hearing my own voice.”

“Gee! I hadn't noticed.”

Marquise snickered. 

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asked.

“Prepping for the trial,” he replied.

“Since you met with her, do you still think she did it?” 

“Yes, I do. When I asked her where she got the Cantarella she clammed up.” 

“She could be protecting someone.”

“That's the problem. She is protecting someone. And since she wants to protect whoever this person is, she can go to the dungeons for them.”

Shanelle had never seen him have this much conviction.

“You sure are confident.”

“I have to be. I don't have time to let her tears sway me.”

“Very well. I won't keep you long. Besides, I have to go pick up your daughter from school. I'm sure she and her friend will have a lot to say about their day today.”

The record in Marquise's head stopped. 

“Friend?! What friend?” he asked.

“You know her cute little friend Xavier. The one she always walks out with,” she replies.

“He is not her little friend.”

“Stop being jealous.”

Marquise gave his wife a lopsided look.

“She does not have a little friend!” he said through gritted teeth. 

“Poor Papa Bear. Can rule a kingdom but can't let his baby girl go.” 

“I said what I said!” he said emphatically.

Shanelle shook her head with a chuckle. 

“I'll see you later babe.”

“Uh-huh. I'll see you later.”

Marquise watched his wife walk out of his office before he went back to prepping for the trial. Later that night after prep for the trial and family time with his sweet girl, His Majesty was coming out of the shower with a million and one questions that had no real answers. 

It started to remind him of the first time she snapped.

The kingdom was abuzz for their new King and Queen. They had just returned to Cordonia after being married. They were greeted by fanfare and many were excited to get a glimpse of their new Monarchs. After meeting with the Parliament and establishing the new Monarchy it was time for the newest Royal Couple to host their first state dinner.

The palace was alight with activity. Many spent days preparing for the dinner. None more than Marquise. He had done these in his sleep but his new bride had not. And he was excited to show her what life as a reigning Queen was really like. The day of the state dinner was a busy one for the couple. But they handled it beautifully. They were almost ready to debut but something was missing for Marquise. 

“Okay, so why are we going to the vault?” Shanelle asked as they walked to the vault.

“You'll see in a minute,” Marquise replies.

Once inside the vault, they headed towards the Queen’s section. They were looking for a tiara for Shanelle to wear that night. 

“Look at them! They're all so beautiful,” she said to him.

“Indeed they are. And they’re all yours to choose from. The custom one I had made for your coronation isn’t quite ready yet. So that’s why we’re here. So you can choose one to wear tonight. So take your time but don't take too much time. We do have a debut to make.”

Shanelle shook her head with a smile before she browsed the many tiaras. Each one was unique. Some were simple and others were way too gaudy for her taste. She settled on one tiara that didn't look like the rest. It was studded with diamonds like the rest but this one also had a blood-red ruby in the middle that was surrounded by smaller rubies. 

“I think I found the one I want to wear,” she said to him.

Marquise looked at the tiara in its case with a fond look on his face. 

“Are you sure, my love?” he asked. 

Shanelle nodded her head yes.

“Very well.”

With a snap of his fingers, an attendant opened the case and removed the tiara and the ceremonial pillow it sat on, and presented it to Marquise.

“Thank you,” he said to the attendant as he sat it on the pedestal next to the case. He picked up the tiara with a fond smile on his face as he held it in his hands. 

“This one is my favorite out of all the tiaras,” he said before turning to Shanelle.

“Why is that?” she asked.

Before answering he gently placed the tiara on her head. She turned to the floor-length mirror to the left of her. 

“Because this was my mother’s crown.” he finally answered. 

She looked at him and then looked at her reflection in the mirror. 

“This was Eleanor’s crown?” she asked.

“Yes. It's been in the vault at the main house of my duchy for years. I had it brought to the palace in hopes that you'd wear it one day.” he replied.

Shanelle stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn't believe he wanted her to wear something that belonged to his mother.

“No Marquise I can't. As beautiful as it is, I can't wear this. I wouldn't dare disrespect Eleanor, like that.”

As she went to take it off he stopped her.

“Please don't take it off. I want you to wear it. I want the world to see you wear it. It's a beautiful crown and it deserves to be worn by a beautiful woman. This is one of the many gifts I have for you. I want to see you shine in it. And okay, maybe I wanna stick it to the old codger my mother called her husband.” 

Shanelle looked back at herself one last time before nodding resolutely.

“If it means that much to you, I’d be honored to wear it. Besides, anytime we get to stick it to the old man is a perk for me.” 

“Now you’re getting it.”

He offered her his arm as they walked out of the vault. When they got to the main dining room Shanelle was nervous and Marquise knew it.

“Nervous love?” he whispered.

“That obvious?” she replied.

Marquise kissed her cheek.

“No need to be nervous. Let's take a deep breath, straighten our shoulders, and command the room and those within it the way it's supposed to be.” 

Shanelle snickered.

“You are about to have fun with this aren't you?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” he replied.

With a nod to the guard at the door, the doors opened and the couple made their debut.

“All rise!” the herald announced. “Introducing His Majesty King Marquise Rys and Her Majesty Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys!”

They entered the room to fanfare and with all eyes on the two of them. It was the first time in a long time that Marquise didn't hate hearing his name be announced to a room full of nobles. When he looked out into the crowd he saw her parents as well as George and Margo. Both couples stood proudly as they watched their children, the new Monarchs enter the room. When his eyes landed on the sour faces of his father and stepmother and then Shanelle’s aunt and uncle, he couldn't help the satisfied smirk that crossed his lips.

As they reached the middle of the room, Marquise held up a hand to silence everyone in attendance.

“Good evening one and all! On behalf of my gorgeous wife, I want to say thank you to everyone and welcome you all to the very first state dinner hosted by your newest Monarchs. Now I know that some of you are still getting used to the idea that little ole me has gone from Prince Of North Cordonia to the King Of Cordonia now. But I assure all of you that as your new King, it is my goal to make sure that Cordonia begins to thrive and work for all of us. And now I believe my beautiful wife would like to say a few words.”

Shanelle shook her head before addressing the crowd.

“First off, good evening everyone! Thank you all for attending this dinner tonight. I know there have been a lot of changes within the kingdom since His Majesty and I were married and we came home. But I promise all of you that these changes are for the greater good of Cordonia for all Cordonians. We have made it our mission to be mindful of all of you as well as the people when decisions are to be made. We want a prosperous kingdom for Cordonia and all of her people.”

Marquise smiled at her before addressing the room.

“Please everyone be seated so dinner can be served.”

As they took their seats, Shanelle noticed the venomous look on Naya’s face. 

“Husband of mine.”

“Yes, my love?” he asked.

“Your ex is giving me the death stare to end all death stares,” she replied.

Marquise groaned.

“She'll get over it. Now let's eat.” 

As they ate, Shanelle couldn't shake the uneasy feeling of being watched. After dinner and dessert, it was time for dancing. The room watched the couple take their first dance as King and Queen. Shanelle still felt uneasy as she danced with her husband and soon her father. And he noticed how troubled his daughter looked.

“Are you alright my darling?” he asked as they danced.

“Yes, Daddy. I'm okay,” she replied.

“Are you sure? Because you don't look okay.” 

Shanelle sighed.

“I think I’m being stalked.”

“By who?” Damien asked.

“Princess Naya Laurent-Sauvageon. Better known as His Majesty's former lover.” Shanelle replied.

Damien nodded his head.

“She's King Elgin’s daughter, yes?” Damien asked.

“Yeah, that's her,” Shanelle replied.

“I grew up with her mother Queen Bernadette. She was on my school’s debate team with me.” 

“What was she like?” Shanelle asked.

“She had her…peculiarities that's for sure. But she was mostly harmless.” Damien replies.

“Yeah well her daughter isn't.”

“I'll speak to Marquise about amping up your security.”

“You don't have to do that Daddy. I'll be fine.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Shanelle replies.

“You can't blame me for being protective.”

Shanelle kissed her father on the cheek.

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you too my darling.”

As that night wound down Shanelle’s feet started to hurt so she stepped out into a side garden and sat down on a bench to rest with the music 

“Ugh! My feet! Note to self: don't wear heels to a state dinner.” she said as she rubbed her aching feet.

“Good evening, Your Majesty.” a voice called out. 

When Shanelle looked up she found herself looking at Naya.

“Good evening, Princess. Can I help you with something?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes, I was hoping I could have a moment of your time,” Naya replies.

Shanelle sized Naya up.

“Sure. What can I help you with?” she asked. 

“Let's take a walk, shall we?” Naya suggested. 

Shanelle looked at Naya sideways.

“Lead the way, Princess.”

The two walked down the cobblestone path toward a small pond.

Naya cleared her throat.

“Now that we're alone, I have a question for you.”

“Yes?” Shanelle asked.

“When are you leaving?” Naya asked.

That question stopped Shanelle in her tracks.

“What do you mean?” Shanelle replied.

“Just what I asked. When are you leaving?” 

Shanelle started to get annoyed. 

“I don’t know if you know this Naya, but I’m not going anywhere. I am the Queen Of Cordonia after all.” 

Naya scoffed.

“Not for long.”

“What the hell are you–” Shanelle started to ask before Naya pulled a knife on her. 

“You crazy bitch! Are you insane?!” Shanelle shouted.

“No. I'm tired. I am tired of you and I’m tired of seeing you with the man that is supposed to be mine. So we are going to take a walk and then you will disappear permanently.” Naya replied.

“I'm not going anywhere with you!” 

“You don't have a choice, Your Majesty.” Naya sneered. 

That's when Naya lunged at Shanelle but she was able to dodge. When Naya turned around Shanelle grabbed for the knife and the two struggled to gain control. Shanelle had just knocked the knife out of Naya’s hands when Naya kicked her in the stomach. Naya had just wrapped her hands around Shanelle’s neck when she was pulled off by Marquise. 

“Guards! Over here!” he shouted. 

A few guards rushed to their King’s side followed by Shanelle’s parents.

“Arrest her now!” Marquise ordered. 

As the guards subdued Naya, Marquise checked on his wife.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“No, I’m not alright! Your crazy ass ex just tried to kidnap and then kill me!” Shanelle said as she tried to catch her breath, “How did you know where to find me?”

“When you didn't come back inside, your parents got worried and they came to me. That's when I had the guards go looking for you. When they heard you shouting they alerted me.”

When the guards presented Naya to Marquise he was furious.

“Get this woman out of my sight!” he hissed. 

“Shall we escort her to the dungeons?” the guard asked.

“Yes. And find Lord Tariq! Now!” Marquise replied. 

The couple and her parents watched as the guards hauled Naya away; that's when Shanelle looked at her father.

“What were you saying about her mother being harmless?” Shanelle asked Damien. 

Later that night while Shanelle was safely with her parents, Marquise was in his office with Tariq.

“My wife did what?!” Tariq asked.

“You heard me. She tried to kidnap and kill your Queen.” Marquise replied.

“Your Majesty, surely there must be some logical explanation for this.” 

“Oh, you want a logical explanation for this? Here it is, your wife is fucking crazy and she will be stripped of her title and lands.” 

“No Marquise please don't do that!”

“You don't get a say in the matter, Tariq.” 

“Your Majesty, I beg you not to strip her of her title and lands. Because doing so would weaken my family’s standing in the court as well as hers. I will do anything to make sure that doesn't happen.”

Marquise looked at him.

“You'll do anything?” Marquise asked.

“Yes, my King! Anything. Just name it.” Tariq replied.

Marquise thought for a moment.

“Here's the deal. You are to go pick your wife up from the dungeons and you two are to never return to my palace unless I send for you both. Also, you are to keep her under lock and key. She does not leave your house and duchy without you at her side. I don’t care if she's going grocery shopping or going to see her father. You will be with her while she is among the populace at all times. If I see her out or if I hear she has traveled outside of your home much less your duchy without you, I will publicly execute you both. Is that clear?” 

Tariq swallowed hard.

“I asked you a question, Tariq.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.”

“Good. Now get out!” Marquise hissed. 

Tariq scurried out of Marquise’s office.

Marquise shook his head at the memory as he got ready for bed. 

The next day he and Shanelle were up bright and early. After breakfast with their daughter and getting her off to school, Their Majesties were getting dressed for the trial. Once his regalia was on, Marquise went to check on his wife. She had just finished pinning her hair so that it flowed down her right shoulder when her husband walked in. Because of her being so far along in her pregnancy, she chose to wear a simple olive green Maxi dress.

“You are a vision to behold my Queen,” he said as he walked up behind her. 

“And you are a kiss ass, Your Majesty. But I appreciate the compliment,” she replied as she stood up from her vanity. “Well don't you look official.”

Marquise smiled proudly.

“Like the Kings of old!” he replied.

Shanelle shook her head.

“You're such a dork. Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yes. I don't have a choice not to be,” he replied.

“Marquise look at me.”

Marquise looked at his wife. 

“I know that this trial will affect you. Because as strong and confident of a leader as you are, my King, I know that there's still a small part of you and your heart that still cares for Naya.”

Marquise sighed deeply.

“You're right there is. I will always care for and about her. There's even a part of me that wishes I didn't have to do this. Hell, if I’m to be quite honest with you, I don't want to do this. But she brought this on herself. She forced my hand.”

“I know. And I know you don't like this. I get it but as you and I both know, we have to do things and make decisions that neither of us will like or necessarily agree with. As you've taught me it comes with the territory of being the Monarchs.”

Marquise had a look on his face.

“What is it?” Shanelle asked.

“There's a bug in my ear,” he replied.

“Ew!”

“Not that kind of bug.”

“Then what do you mean?” she asked.

Marquise sighed.

“Something my father said to me years ago,” he replied.

“Oh, dear God! What?” she asked.

Marquise took a deep breath before contorting his face to mirror Constantine’s scowl.

"Pretty soon you'll find out that you can't have it all. You will have to make decisions that you won't like. Ones that will haunt you. And you'll have no one to blame but yourself and that girl you're so in love with."

“A.) don't ever do that again. B.) ugh! What the hell would he know anyway?” she asked. 

“He knew that if something like this were to ever happen, I wouldn't know how to handle it,” he replied.

Shanelle took her husband's hands in hers.

“Stop it. Stop it right now. Connie said that to attack you and shake your confidence in yourself and your abilities as King. Don't you dare let what that old bastard said to you get to you. You are ready. You are willing. And God knows you are able, Marquise. So let's go.”

Marquise nodded his head with a smile.

“Thank you, my love. I appreciate you,” he said before kissing her softly on her forehead.

“You're welcome babe. Now we have a trial to get to.”

“Indeed we do.”

He offered her his arm.

“Milady.”

“M’lord.”

The two walked out of her closet and headed to the northern wing of the palace where the trial is to take place. As they walked, Shanelle got curious.

“Now why is the trial in this part of the palace?” she asked.

“Because this part of the palace stands on top of the old courthouse. It was burned down when the old palace was burned down back in the 1700s,” he replied.

“What a time that must've been,” she said.

“Indeed.”

When they reached the doors of the courthouse, Marquise closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Shanelle laid her head on his right shoulder. He opened his eyes with a smile before kissing her forehead gently.

“Well, this is it. Are you ready, Your Majesty?” she asked.

“Yes, I am,” he replied.

“Then lead the way, my King.”

Marquise squared his shoulders and then nodded to the guard at the door. The herald on the other side could be heard.

“All rise and remain standing for Their Majesties! Introducing His Majesty King Marquise Rys! And Her Majesty Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys!” 

With the announcement of their arrival, the couple donned stoic masks as they entered the room. All eyes were on them as they made their way to their seats. All of the Heads Of State were in attendance as well as Shanelle’s family and Tariq’s family. Once at their seats, Marquise addressed everyone in the room.

“Everyone be seated.”

Everyone took their seats as Giancarlo addressed the room. 

“Good morning everyone. We are here today because one Princess Naya Laurent-Sauvageon-Miller stands accused of the murder of the former Lord Tariq Sauvageon of Duchy Arnaud. Her Highness’s former husband.”

Many in the room started to whisper amongst themselves. As Carlo continued with his opening speech, Marquise looked in Naya’s direction, he watched her have her eyes trained downward.

“You think she's scared?” Shanelle whispers to Marquise.

“She’s terrified. Because I got a look at Giancarlo’s witness list, the original coroner is one of the witnesses,” he replied.

“Does he know that you have the new autopsy report?” she asked.

“Probably not. Because he wouldn't be on the witness list if he knew,” he replied

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because I could charge him with conspiracy,” he replied.

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes. It would be the same as charging him with tampering with evidence in America,” he replied.

“Safe to say she did not think any of this through.”

“That could be a gift for the defense.”

“How?” she asked.

“They could argue that only someone with intent to kill Tariq could pull this off,” he replied. 

Shanelle shrugged. 

“I mean she did hate him.”

“She hated the circumstance she was in. Not him.”

“Then why kill him?” Shanelle asked.

“I guess we'll find out,” he replied.

“One last question, when does this trial end?” she asked.

“It ends when I've heard enough from both sides and I’m ready for the Parliament to vote,” he replied.

Just then Giancarlo had finished his opening statement.

“Thank you, Giancarlo. And now Princess Naya’s legal counsel Lady Stephanie Hellstrom may rise and give her opening statement.” Marquise announced.

Just as Naya’s attorney began their opening statement, an attendant handed Marquise a Manila envelope.

“What's that?” Shanelle asked her husband.

“Let's find out shall we?” Marquise replied.

He opened the Manila envelope and raised an eyebrow as he read the documents within.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What is it?” she asked.

“Naya was actually telling the truth. This is the result of her pregnancy test. It confirms that she is 12 weeks pregnant,” he replies.

“Seriously?!” she asked.

“Read it for yourself,” he replies.

Shanelle read the report and her face soured.

“Dear God! Here comes the Antichrist. Gird your loins, Your Majesty.” 

Marquise rolled his eyes.

“Stop that.” 

“So what happens now?” Shanelle asks.

“Once Lady Hellstrom is done with her statement, we get this trial underway,” Marquise replied.

“And how long will this last?” Shanelle asked.

“No more than 7 days. I'm not about to drag this out for weeks. We still have a kingdom to run.” he replies. 

“Okay. Well, Lady Hellstrom is almost done with her statement.” Shanelle to him.

“Good. Let's get this show on the road.”

Once Lady Hellstrom was done with her statement, Marquise cleared his throat and addressed everyone in the room.

“Now that both sides have given their openings, the trial may commence. Both will present their cases and once I have heard both sides, I will end the trial and the Parliament will convene. Members of the Parliament will then vote to either convict or acquit. Both sides get two days each to present witnesses for questioning and evidence for their cause. Any witness can be called or recalled by myself or Her Majesty at will. The prosecution may now present their case.” 

Giancarlo nodded.

“Thank you, my King. As my first witness, I'd like to call Lord Dr. Bailey Oscar the Medical Examiner of Duchy Arnaud.”

Shanelle glanced at her husband who was stone-faced. Many watched as the elderly man took his seat in front of the King and Queen. 

“Lord Oscar. Thank you for coming this morning. Now you performed the autopsy on Lord Tariq did you not?” Giancarlo asked him.

“Yes, sir. I performed the autopsy.” Lord Oscar replied.

Marquise steepled his fingers together.

“Tell me what was your cause of death?” Giancarlo asked.

“Organ failure. From what I gathered during the autopsy, Lord Tariq's organs had slowly been failing for months.” Lord Oscar replied.

“Could you tell me how a man who was relatively healthy suffered from organ failure?” Marquise asked. 

“Acute organ failure can happen to any one of us my King. But in the case of Lord Tariq, I determined that he had a sepsis infection.” Lord Oscar replied.

“And you know this to be true?” Marquise asked.

“Yes sir. Lord Tariq’s sudden organ failure was caused by a sepsis infection.” Lord Oscar replied.

Marquise nodded. 

“He's lying,” Shanelle whispered to Marquise.

“I know,” Marquise replied before clearing his throat.

“Lady Hellstrom, do you have any questions?” Marquise asked.

“No sir. I am satisfied and confident in his findings.” Lady Hellstrom replied.

“Very well. I have just one request for you, Lord Oscar. Will you take a look at this?” Marquise asked as he handed off the new autopsy report to an attendant standing to his right. 

“Of course my King. May I ask what I’m looking at?” Lord Oscar asked.

“A new autopsy report. I had Lord Tariq’s body exhumed and a new autopsy was done. Can you tell me, Her Majesty, and those of The Parliament what it says?” Marquise asked.

Lord Oscar read the report and his face paled.

“Lord Oscar, what does the report say?” Marquise asked.

“It says that Lord Tariq was poisoned.” Lord Oscar replied.

Gasps were heard throughout the courtroom. 

“Poisoned with what Lord Oscar?” Marquise asked.

“It says here that Lord Tariq was poisoned with Cantarella.” Lord Oscar replied.

“But Cantarella poisoning isn't on the original autopsy report you submitted is it?” Giancarlo asked.

“No sir it's not.” Lord Oscar replied.

“Why?” Marquise asked.

“I didn't think to test him for poisons, sir.” Lord Oscar replied.

“You are the Medical Examiner for Duchy Arnaud, how could you not think to test him for poison?” Shanelle asked.

“Because his body showed no signs of poisoning. I didn't think it was necessary. I've never been wrong, my Queen.” Lord Oscar replied.

“Except for this,” Shanelle said under her breath. 

“Then we have a dilemma, Lord Oscar because one of these autopsy reports is lying. And I need to know which one.” Marquise said to the Lord. 

Lord Oscar fidgeted with his hands. 

“Also you know what the penalty for lying to your King is, don't you?” Marquise asked him.

Marquise watched the Lord swallow hard before hanging his head.

“Alright! Alright! I admit it! The autopsy I submitted nearly a year ago is false.” Lord Oscar admitted.

“Explain,” Marquise said to him. 

“I ran a toxicology screening on the former Lord and I found that he was poisoned.” Lord Oscar replied.

“Then why lie on the autopsy report?” Marquise asked.

“I didn't lie. I just omitted the true cause of death.” Lord Oscar replied.

“A lie of omission is still a lie, Lord Oscar. But my question is why lie at all?” Marquise asked.

“Because I was told to.” Lord Oscar replied.

“By who?” Marquise asked.

Lord Oscar looked nervously between Marquise and Naya.

“By Lord Tariq’s wife. Her Highness, Princess Naya.” Lord Oscar replied. 

“Lord Oscar. How do I or anyone know that you aren't just saying all of this to save your own skin?” Shanelle asked.

“Because I would have everything to lose, my Queen.” Lord Oscar replied.

“What do you mean?” Shanelle asked.

“When Lord Tariq died, Her Highness inherited the duchy. She begged me to change the cause of death. Said that she would lose everything if his true cause of death came out. And initially, I declined to do so, but she said that if she lost everything then she’d make sure that I would lose everything. I couldn't put my family through that. So I went ahead and changed the cause of death.” Lord Oscar replied.

“What were you saying about this being a gift for the defense?” Shanelle asked her husband.

“Thank you for your time, Lord Oscar. You will return the day after tomorrow for the defense to question you as well.” Marquise said to him.

Lord Oscar bowed before taking his seat amongst those in attendance. Shanelle was thankful his testimony took two hours because she was starting to get hungry. 

“Think we can break for lunch now?” she whispered to her husband. “These munchkins are trying to tell me something.” 

“Very well,” he whispered back before addressing the room, “we will take this time to break for a 90-minute lunch. Giancarlo, I expect your next witness at the break’s end.”

“Yes, my King,” Giancarlo replied with a head bow.

Marquise helped his wife out of her seat before they made their way out of the courtroom. As they walked, Marquise shot off a text to have lunch brought to them. They walked to a sitting room with French doors that led out to a small garden. 

“Are you comfortable, my love?” Marquise asked his wife. 

“Yes. This couch is doing wonders for my back. That chair is too hard.” she replied.

“I apologize. Even I forgot how hard those old seats are. I'll have a cushion put in yours so you'll be a little more comfortable as the trial goes on.” 

“Thank you, baby. So when does this trial adjourn?” she asked.

“4:00 pm every day. I'm not about to spend all day staring at Naya shed crocodile tears,” he replied.

Shanelle snickered.

“You are so mean sir.”

He shrugged. 

“If you say so. Now how are you feeling? Anything sore?” he asked.

“No, but I think it's a good idea that I put my feet up,” she replied. 

Marquise tapped the inside of his right thigh so she could rest her feet on his lap. It made Shanelle giggle when he took off her flats and started to massage her feet.

“You and your foot fetish.” she giggled. 

“Look, you have your kinks and I have mine,” he said before kissing the sole of her right foot. “I don't judge you so don't judge me.”

“You are so grumpy! Wait until I tell your daughter how you've been visiting the planet of Grumpola again.”

Marquise rolled his eyes with a smirk. He found the pressure point on her foot and kneaded a circle into it disarming her.

“Oooh!” she cooed.

He watched her squirm in delight before he stopped, causing her to pout.

“Nooooooo!” she whined.

“If you want more of that you'll keep your mouth shut and not tell my daughter anything. Understand?” he asked.

“Yes, Grumpy Bear,” she replied.

“That's Mr. Grumpy Bear to you.” 

This was a side of him that she loved. Many have often assumed that because of his calm nonchalant nature, Marquise is soft. But Shanelle knows better than anyone that that's never been the case. 

He is just as dominant as she is. He's just not outwardly open about it as she is. He has always preferred to be the quiet yet firm and unrelenting type. He always has to keep his emotions in check. And she appreciates that about her husband. It's always what makes him so sexy to her.