#It’s clearly the ballroom from beauty and the beast

[need-a-new-reality]

Is that the ballroom from beauty and the beast??

[monster-disaster]

Request: Chimera inspired monster

Not necessarily a traditional chimera, just a monster that you mish mash together yourself since you’re the author! I wanna make sure you have a lot of creative reign to design the creature how you want to!

Scenario/Plot: A retelling/inspired story of Beauty and the Beast, but female reader agrees to be his bride from the very start. She has abandonment issues and just yearns to be loved by anyone who’ll take her. And reader found her monster groom to be very attractive from the beginning. She’s just enjoying her life living in opulence with a man that’s fully devoted to her. *Cute shenanigans ensue between the couple, that ends in a Gomez and Morticia Adams romance*

Not sure if this’d be good for NSFW, or just a super fluffy romance would be better!

It's spring, and I'm in my historically inaccurate Regency Era. I hope you will enjoy it!

chimera!Lord Elohim x human!Reader Good to know: no warnings, and I can't promise anything, but there is a chance that we will meet Lord Elohim again because I have more ideas for their pair

A soft 'thank you' slips past your lips as the carriage door opens, and a hand reaches out towards you, offering help. Your fingers find a firm grip as you step out onto the gravel path, gathering the soft fabric of your dress to pull it out of your way. The pebbles creak under your shoes, mixing with the bustling noises of the others around you. Your gaze scans your surroundings, finding a few familiar faces among the guests. The ladies are adorned in their latest gowns, following the fashion and expectations of their titles. Their necklaces and earrings glint and shine under the warm light of the lampions and candles like the stars in the dark sky above you. In contrast, the men appear dull in their dark coats and trousers.

"Y/N?"

Your attention shifts from the guests to the mansion before you. Your gaze sweeps over the sturdy walls and delicate carvings and details. Candles glow in every window, dancing and pulsing among the lush vines that climb the grandiose building.

"Y/N?"

A slight frown pulls on your brows as your attention pauses at the wide window above the entrance door. A tall shadow stands firm and straight. The lights streaming out from the house make it impossible to see clearly.

"Y/N!" Your gaze tears away from the sight as an arm curls around yours, pulling you away from the next carriage in the long row of arriving guests. You need a moment to drag your focus away from the window. The back of your mind still lingers on the dark figure, though. "Mother?" "What are you doing?" She asks. Your frown again with confusion this time. "What do you mean?" "Come." Despite her small, delicate form, your mother has every power in her body to drag you into the house after showing the man standing at the door your invitation. "Wow!" Your amazement escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your eyes are on the chandelier hanging from the painted ceiling. "Don't be so crude!" "I'm not!" You reply, looking at the older woman with an amused smile. It's so easy to rile her up. "Come on! Don't tell me you are not surprised." She looks around more discreetly than you. Her attention lingers on the wallpapers with golden details, lush plants, and framed paintings. "I mean…" You can't help but laugh. "See?" "Well, the King was generous," she hums quietly, making sure you are the only one who can hear her while the others come and go around you two. "He saved his nephew," you reason. "He almost died."

The ballroom is already buzzing with life as you and your mother continue further into the mansion, her arm still linked with yours. "Wow!" "Y/N!" You don't even bother with a reaction. You're too busy taking in the green walls with their glinting decor, the flickering candles, and the sturdy wooden furniture. The windows, wide and tall, are framed with dark curtains, offering glimpses of the garden behind the mansion filled with lush greens and flowerbeds. From what you can see, the whole house is elegant and stylish, with the obvious preferences of its male owner.

"I will bring us something to drink," you tell your mother when you see the familiar form of your neighbor coming your way. The woman's face is red with excitement, and her eyes shine with news and the latest topics to gossip about. You already know most of them anyway. "Thank you, dear," your mother replies, letting go of your arm to face the other woman.

The excited voice of your neighbor soon disappears in the cacophony of the soft music that is quiet enough to give space for the chatter in the room. Young couples dance in the middle in each other's arms, whispering and swirling at the melody while the others stand around with drinks. Their voices mingle together to the point you can't understand them.

Maybe it's for the better.

After the King bestowed a title, fortune, and lands upon a monster who saved his nephew from certain death on the battlefield, it became impossible to avoid the whispers circulating through the streets and social gatherings. Allowing monsters to earn wealth and find a way to integrate into human society, primarily through the military, was one thing; however, granting them titles and authority was an entirely different affair. The Ton found themselves uncertain of how to react without angering the King.

They don't dare to express their opinions to the monarch; they are not dense, after all. Yet, they can't readily accept the monster into their social circles, either.

Then, a week ago, everyone received an invitation from Lord Elohim, putting many between a rock and a hard place to your utmost amusement.

As you survey the room full of people of the society close to the King, you notice that their curiosity outweighs their resentment. For tonight, at least. The lack of your surprise is understandable; you are sure this party will provide rich fodder for gossip for weeks, if not months. You glance back at your mother and her friend, already chatting in hushed whispers. Yes, you think, it's already started. It started even before the night began.

The table is pushed next to the wall between two windows. Your eyes scan the various drinks, cakes, and fruits, all fresh and ripe. You're about to reach for two cups when your attention shifts to an archway nearby. Through it, you glimpse a narrow corridor and another open door with a tall bookshelf. Your hand hesitates in mid-air, halfway to the drinks.

You shouldn't.

Your gaze sweeps over the guests, observing everyone having a great time. People continue to dance under the watchful eyes of the wallflowers and eager mothers, while the men chat in small groups.

Your mother would kill you.

As you stand still, unnoticed by the others, you find yourself repeatedly turning your attention back to the door outside.

It would be really rude of you.

You take a few tentative steps away from the table, still focusing on the people around you. A few of them smile when your eyes meet, but nobody stops to start a conversation with you.

Just a quick glance, you tell yourself as you slowly back out of the ballroom. Nobody will know.

The corridor appears much darker in contrast to the ballroom, and when you step into the other room, you have to light a candle you find on the small table next to the door.

The small library is much simpler than the other rooms of the house you've had the chance to see. The walls are hidden by bookshelves, with two sofas and a small coffee table in the middle. From there, you have a full view of another part of the garden spreading out behind the mansion.

You move quietly and slowly with the small, burning candle in your hand. The floor creaks under your steps. The dancing flame warms your face as you lean closer to read the spines of the books. The soft glow illuminates the line of your eyes and the slope of your nose. Most of the books are worn and faded.

You glance at the entrance every now and then, making sure nobody has noticed your absence yet. The noises of the music and the guests seem far away through the half-closed door.

You should go, though.

You nibble on your lower lip until it's red and slightly swollen as you reach up to the shelf. The book you grasp is dark red with a golden title. You can see that it has been regularly read.

Just a peek, you try to convince yourself, and you'll be ready to go.

Before you know it, you're sitting on one of the sofas with the candle on the table and the book on your lap.

Your mother will definitely kill you.

"It's from a friend." The deep voice coming from the door almost makes you jump out of your skin. You grab the books at the last moment before they slip from your lap to the ground. "Oh!" Your heart throbs in your throat as you gasp for air. "He wrote it," he continues, stepping closer. His hands are behind his back. The dark blue coat stretches on his broad shoulders. "While he was traveling."

You have seen monsters before. Even though humans are not particularly fond of them, they are not banned from cities and towns. At least, not anymore.

But you have never seen anything like him before.

Your eyes rake over his tall, sturdy form. At first, you think he is a rakshasa, with a thick yet lean body and a dark mane around his head, but there are goat horns peeking out of the thick fur. And instead of the delicate lion tail, a crocodile one swings behind him, dark green and covered in scales.

"Lord…" You gasp again, standing up from your seat. You can't hide the surprise in your voice or wipe it away from your face. Your fingers are tight on the book, still open. "Lord Elohim," he says with a slight bow. "And you are…" "Lady Y/L/N," you tell him. You are still so overwhelmed by him that you forget your manners entirely. You stare at him openly without shame. He is barefoot. The white shirt he wears is a bit bigger than him, showing off a bit of his chest, and tucked into the creamy-colored trousers that hug his lean waist perfectly. A slight grimace pulls on his face, letting you see his sharp canines. "I'm not doing it right, am I?" He seems easy and amused. Even a bit awkward. Your tense posture relaxes a bit. Your shoulders fall. "I mean," you dare to tease him with a small smile. "You should be outside, socializing, but I shouldn't be here either. And for that, I'm sorry." "Don't be," he says, stepping even closer. Your breath hitches. "I love being here too, so I understand." His gaze runs over the shelves full of books before his attention falls on you again. "How do you like it?" He nods to the book still in your hand. "It's interesting," you tell him. "I didn't know orcs have such a rich culture." There is a glint of amusement in his eyes. "How many orcs do you know?" Heat creeps up on your cheeks. "None." "You can take it with you," he says, motioning to the book again. "It's really good." "Oh, I can't…" "You can," he says immediately. "I'm offering." He is so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face. The male is handsome, with his almost black snout and golden eyes. The realization shocks you. You didn't think monsters could be so attractive. "Well," you clear your throat. Your nose is full of his scent. Warmth and nature. "Thank you." You put it down on the table next to you, though. Maybe you can sneak in before you have to leave and take it home without your mother noticing. She wouldn't be happy with you leaving the ballroom and being alone with a man, monster or not. "You are here with…" "My mother," you tell him. "She is outside… where I should be." He grins. "Me too." None of you move. "Do you want me to introduce you?" You ask him. You can't just leave him here. Not after he offered you his book and was so kind to you. "It can be scary around the ton for the first time." There is something wolfish in his smirk that makes your insides tremble with excitement. You understand, though. You don't think there are a lot of things that can scare him. "Thank you," Lord Elohim says in the end, holding up his arm for you to take. He is warm under your touch as you accept his offer.

Your heart flutters at his closeness.

Eyes fall on you the moment you step into the ballroom on Lord Elohim's side. Your fingers tighten on the curve of his elbows, and he squeezes your hand softly as a reassurance. The room gets quiet as you make your way to your mother through the crowd. Her eyes are wide with shock as you approach her. "Mother," you smile at her, not caring about the heavy gazes on you and the monster. "Let me introduce Lord Elohim." Your mother curtsies, taking back the control over her face. A soft smile appears on her lips, and she looks up at the tall male. "My Lord." "Lady Y/L/N," he bows, still holding onto you on his arm. His paw-like hand is warm on your glove-covered skin. "Please," he straightens, looking around the room. "Continue. Enjoy the night."

His words are followed by silence, and everyone needs a few seconds to regain their composure and focus on their business. Quiet murmurs ripple through the guests, the music starts again, and the weight of the others' attention lifts off your shoulders a bit. Not entirely, though.

"Thank you for the invitation, my Lord," your mother says. You know she feels awkward even though she is really great at hiding it. "I hope everything is for your liking." "Of course," the older woman nods. Before another tense silence could fall on your small company, you turn to the male. He is already watching you, and you can see your mother's eyes widening with fear about what you plan to say. You understand her. "It would be really gentlemanly of you to ask me to dance." You hear your mother gasping, but your focus is on Lord Elohim and his sharp canines as he smiles at you. There is something satisfied and cheeky in the curve.

His golden eyes bore into yours as he gently tugs on your hand, leading you to the couples dancing in the heart of the ballroom. You're aware of the gazes fixed upon you, analyzing your every move, yet you couldn't care less. Your attention is consumed by the chimera before you. His paw-like hand trails from yours, grazing over your arm until it settles on the small of your back, drawing you closer until you're enveloped by his embrace. A tingling sensation courses through your entire being. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. "Are you alright, my lady?" The rumble of his chest echoes within yours.

Are you okay? You're uncertain. Unable to tear your gaze away from his, you feel like a raw nerve, sensitive and on the verge of bursting as he encloses you against himself. The air around you grows hot and heavy, causing your chest to ache and throb.

A smirk plays on his lips. "Are you thinking of running?" Lord Elohim teases, regarding you like a deer he often spots in his garden at dawn. With wide eyes and slightly parted lips, you gaze up at him. He's certain the soft skin of your cheeks would be warm under his touch if he dared to act as he desires despite the attention of his guests. Oh, how he longs to send them all home and keep only you for himself. The pretty little lady with the tendency to sneak around.

"No," you breathe out, fighting for air when you find your voice, holding onto his shoulder more firmly as if he is the only one who keeps you on your feet. You can feel the softness of his mane on your fingertips. Your other hand is in the air in his grasp.

It takes a moment for you to register the orchestra and your body's response to the gentle melody. You move mindlessly under Lord Elohim's guide. Swaying back and forth, you follow the male's lead on the dance floor. His embrace envelops you in warmth, leaving you feeling giddy and breathless as he twirls you, pulling you back to him moments later. You smile up at him, on the verge of laughter.

"You're quite the dancer," you compliment him. "Well, thank you," he hums, his gaze still firmly fixed on yours. "In that case, I hope you won't mind if I ask you to dance with me again." And a few more times.

You don't answer immediately. A sense of certainty washes over you, Lord Elohim will be your lifelong dance partner. The thought fills you with excitement for your future as you stare up at him. It seems like the gold of his eyes swirls under the lights that dance in sync with you.

"I'd love to dance with you some more, my Lord."

For an eternity, if it's possible.

[just-a-carrot]

i don't have words to describe what happened during my play session of dd2 last night. as i mentioned yesterday, i thought i would try to sneak genzou in to one of the masquerade balls so i could try to get some fun cute shots of them dancing. what i did not expect was a bunch of random things happening that never happened before in my 360 hours of playing, ending in utter chaos and extreme violence LOL i have tears in my eyes just going through the video 🤣

anyway since i recorded the whole thing given i was planning to make gifs i thought i would chronicle the insanity because it's very funny and ridiculous to me. like who knew just wanting genzy to go to a dance would result in all of this...

adding a little context as i assume most ppl won't know anything about any of this, but in the game, there's a masquerade party held in the ball room inside the castle grounds every other night. this is included as part of a storyline in the first half of the game, but after you do that, the parties keep happening and you can still go hang out

anyway, i dressed iggy and genzou up to get ready for the party. for iggy, i had to make him wear the standard courtly wear (and later on the masquerade mask) or else he'd get kicked out LOL but i put on a fancy shawl thing to give him more pomp. for genzou, i cobbled together something i felt looked very regal from some of the different outfit pieces i had

for additional context, part of the plot is that pawns are not allowed within the castle grounds, so whenever iggy has to go inside, genzou will sit outside and wait. well, that wouldn't do for this! so i had iggy carry genzou all the way in to the masquerade hall. unfortunately, this meant that whenever iggy put genzou down, genzou immediately ran away because he's not supposed to be there LOL so i had to do some tricky work with the mod helping me to pause genzou's movements, which also made it hard to position sometimes

and also created a few hilarious moments where i wouldn't catch him fast enough and iggy would have to go bolting after him like he's chasing a dog or something:

i went early to practice a bit since time in the masquerade itself would be limited

anyway... finally!! the hour of the masquerade arrived. so iggy carried genzou inside...

...only to suddenly get stopped by this random guy???

he gave iggy a "paragon staff" and said something about it being an "eve of gift-giving" and that it was a special gift. when this happened, i thought it was a bit odd, as i'd never had anything like this happen before, but mostly i was like "oh that's nice!" this is also doubly hilarious imagining this guy talking to iggy while literally carrying genzou in his arms please...

after he was done talking i took a look at the staff in my inventory, but again, didn't really think much of it besides "oh dang, i wonder if this item will do anything cool"

but none of that was important anyway! tonight was all about dancing! so i promptly went to the center of the dance floor so i could start getting some shots. the music started playing and the others started dancing, and it was all very fancy

everything was going great and i was getting filled up with feels and inspiration (especially since the ballroom was giving me beauty and the beast vibes LOL)...

...WHEN SUDDENLY I WAS INTERRUPTED??? a random soldier suddenly proclaimed that they'd gotten word of a thief in the ballroom hello what

i was really confused and also annoyed because the stupid soldier had interrupted my shot lol like do you not understand this is Very Important priorities clearly

after this, i noticed that the music stopped and the other people stopped dancing... which also annoyed me, but i was determined to continue

...until the soldier interrupted YET AGAIN

...this time saying that the item that was stolen was the paragon staff

...wait

PARAGON STAFF

UMMMMM

i start to get a little bit nervous

but not that nervous as to stop dancing. i had a mission here after all. so iggy and genzou continued to dance all by themselves in the middle of the completely quiet hall save their footsteps as everyone around just watched in tense silence. it was actually really surreal and hilarious

after a bit though i finally thought maybe it would be a good idea to get rid of that staff...

...which triggered a soldier to immediately order me to come to the main hall HELP

after this, i decided to stop dancing as i wasn't sure what was going to happen. but in order to do that, i'd need to grab genzou as soon as i canceled the dancing animation so he wouldn't run away. so i did my normal trick to freeze genzou and grab him the moment he was unfrozen...

...EXCEPT INSTEAD OF PICKING HIM UP IGGY TACKLED HIM TO THE GROUND??????

WHICH THE SOLDIER THEN TOOK AS IGGY ACCUSING GENZOU OF BEING THE THIEF??????? AND SAYING HE NEEDED TO NOW SEARCH BOTH OF THEIR BELONGINGS????????????

at this point i've got a constant mantra of "what in the world what in the world what in the world" going on as i attempt to make sense of what's happening

ofc the soldier found the staff and accused iggy of being the thief. and immediately things descended into chaos, with genzou bolting, iggy trying to catch him, quickly losing him as the crowd started going wild, the soldiers starting to attack iggy

they don't have any weapons equipped so iggy just goes in fists flying

genzou is literally flying through the air. iggy is punching wildly as blood goes splattering. he's getting bludgeoned repeatedly and can barely stay on his feet, no doubt concussed five times over

i somehow manage to get their weapons equipped amongst the fracas but by this point there's about a thousand soldiers and a few mage soldiers too who have started casting spells in the hall

it's a bloodbath

eventually i notice genzou's body collapsed against a far pillar dead. now iggy is on his own. the soldiers descend. nothing but blood and swords filling his vision as he's surrounded by the onslaught of bloodthirsty guards

it doesn't last long after that...

...iggy blacks out

...

....

...only to wake up in jail

i'd never been arrested in the game before so this was doubly hilarious for me that it would only happen because i was trying to film genzou and iggy at the masquerade...

iggy contemplating the chaotic series of events that led him here...

fortunately, i always keep a few makeshift gaol keys on hand so i was able to escape without much issue (and without having to bribe the guard with half my money)

iggy breathing in the fresh air of freedom...

ofc first up on the order of business was summoning genzou back from the rift...

...who was looking pretty morose if i have to say. didn't even say one of his usual lines after coming back from the rift. i think both of them were just a bit overwhelmed by everything that had happened lol

then it was straight home and to bed, where genzou took care of him after his very overwhelming night in jail

the end

...LOL

if you made it this far i hope you've enjoyed my retelling. it was truly one of the wackiest things that's happened to me in the game and i'm still laughing about the absurdity of it all. i swear just when i thought this game couldn't surprise me anymore...

i still want to go back and get some shots of them dancing more, hopefully WITHOUT ending up in jail 🤣 i think it would make a very fun gifset. i'll try again later!!!

[midnightmah07]

𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 ✨ Beauty and the Beast AU! Leobelle (a/n: did ya miss me in the inbox? hehe😙 addieyouarenext)

Glancing over his own reflex, the mirror had an issue to judge Leona, by making him stare down his face over the piece of metal. He was hideous; A beast, in fact. Even so, he doesn’t understand how he has gotten so far, specially with a pretty… No, more than that. Specially with a perfect girl like Isabelle. She was his last shot to lift up the curse, his last chance to learn how to love, his last hope to be able to be the better version of himself… Yes, all of that laid upon a girl who barged in for her father, who took no steps back, who somehow managed to see over his fur.

The clock didn’t stopped, a petal fell, and that’s how Leona grows more desperate. She has to be able to help him. He can only pray she is the one. The curse laid upon the prince was the weight of his shoulders, a reason of why he was so scared to face a modest woman like Isabelle. But what is that curse? You may ask, well, this story takes place before the winter took place as a snowstorm.

Leona, you see, he was a selfish and arrogant person that was able to sit up a throne and wear a pride of a crown. When his brother passed away, Leona was taken in with greediness for power and hunger for superficial things; beauty, is the best example of it.

On top of that, one night, the prince had invited the most beautiful women on the region, in a look for a wife, his eyes travel down the crowd; but only to look away, as soon as he hears the gates opening. Revealing a old lady, crawling into the castle with cold trembling hands… For her stay, she offered a simple rose. A symbol of sympathy as Leona would shelter her from the storm. Yet instead, the same laughed at her face, denying her stay. Except, that she warned him, he shouldn’t just take others by appearance. The green coat falls off to reveal a beautiful woman, long blonde hair and lustrous long green dress. As punishment, she puts on the Prince, a curse. The same, could only go back to normal, if learned how to love and not be deceived by appearances. If he did not learnt until the last petal falls, he would be a beast for eternity.

As years passed and went by, Leona lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast? He wonders that everytime out loud, but instead of being able to rethink the same thought he hears a knock on the door.

“Master, she is ready.” The chandelier; Ruggie, announces Isabelle waiting for Leona.

“I do not ca…” He takes a deep breath. “I will be down in a minute.”

The change of humor sure caught Ruggie’s attention. But both of them were pretty aware of who caused it.

Leona steps down the stairs covered in the clean red carpet with his blue suit and yellow vest, his fur was in a small ponytail, as he gently walked down the stairs, until he stops his tracks looking up to Isabelle. The time freezes, at least that his excuse. Her hair i half down and half pull up in a bun, long ballroom dress on the same shades of the long gloves that is a bright yellow and to mix all up the beautiful golden trails of drawings of roses on Isabelle’s dress. She looks up to him with a soft smile. Because, she. She can learn how to love a beast… Isabelle can learn how to love him.

And that, the lady in green; Adeline. Could see it clearly. The black shadow standing next to her shows up in the moonlight standing on her side.

“So?”

“Not yet, Malleus. Let him say the three little words to each other.” Adeline gives a small smile. Watching the both of them twirling and swinging together around the ballroom.

“If that depends on you he will remain a beast forever…”

“Malleus!”

Adeline gasps crossing her arms over her chest offended by his words, that weren’t a full lie, but still… He could be more sensible about it.

Back to Leona and Isabelle, she lays her head on his chest, making a sparkle feeling on his chest. The tale is old as time, the song is just as old as rhyme, but it all remains the same story, with different people. Beauty and the beast, once again reunited by faith or destiny of some kind, forever meant to be together as the sun will rise. It begins all with just a little change, both of them scared, neither one prepared, but the beauty and the beast will always encounter each other, in every universe, in every life.

WHAT IS THIS. WHAT. I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS. SKSJIEJEISJSJS THEY'RE SO???? THEM??? THEY?????? THEM????? LEOBELLE MY BELOVEDS MY BABIES MY EKDJEKSJOEJDKSNSKDNSKJS AHHHHHHH

THIS IS SO GOOD IM SOBBING IM CRYING IM THROWING UP THEY'RE SOOOOOO IN LOVE IT MAKES ME GO ABSOLUTELY INSANE

I LOVE. HOW U INCLUDED MALLINE HERE TOO. ALSO RUGGIE AS A CHANDELIER MADE ME LAUGH NGL BUT I LOVE IT😭😭😭😭 THIS IS ALL PERFECT NOW!!! KISS!!!!!!!

[lumiereandcogsworth]

“Inside the castle is also the smallest piece of work made by the set decorating department: Chip’s bedroom — in the kitchen cupboard. Chambre de Chip is a little boy’s bedroom, with the linens arranged to create stairs up to his bed, a miniature armory made of thimbles and toothpicks fashioned after the Beast’s armory (because the Beast is his secret hero) and a stolen tassel from Belle’s bedroom (because he has a crush on her).”

I have some headcanons/thoughts about this quote from the Beauty and the Beast (2017) Official Collector’s Edition magazine that I’d like to share!!!

Firstly, Adam has an armory !!! This is cool. I think it’s 100% decorative and he probably just collected the most interesting and expensive pieces in order to show off, sending his people to auctions just to find the most collectible collectors items. Just to have. Just because he can. I do think he fenced in school (and enjoyed it) so I could definitely see him appreciating swords and such.

But furthermore, Adam being Chip’s hero… I have so many thoughts about this. Because obviously prologue Adam (which is the only Adam that Chip has known so far) is a HORRIBLE person to look up to. But the thing is, Chip probably saw him in such limited capacities that he really had no idea how awful he was.

When they were young, Adam was just sad and quiet and read books. Chip probably just looked up to him because he was the closest to him in age (I headcanon that they’re about 10-11 years apart). And when Adam got older, especially after his father died, Adam stopped engaging with Mrs. Potts as much, (as well as the rest of the staff, of course) and would go to Versailles frequently too. But when he was around, I could see him being sort of neutral toward Chip.

I do think Adam resented Chip sometimes, seeing as he still had both his parents alive, and how they both adored him, but I don’t think he ever scared him or anything. I think Chip was honestly intrigued by him. He saw Adam as a dazzling and interesting young man that he had been lucky enough to grow up observing. Chip saw all the “friends” that Adam seemed to have, how people always laughed around him, how he would travel so much. To chip, Adam had THE coolest life. And since Adam and Chip never really had a conversation, Chip never saw the harsher side of him.

Which makes it sort of interesting how in the prologue, we see Chip has clearly run where he wasn’t supposed to, and Mrs. Potts runs after him, and they come into the ballroom right as the enchantress is cursing everyone. So it makes me think that Chip probably ALWAYS wanted to go to Prince Adam’s parties, but for several obvious reasons, Mrs. Potts never let him. But, because Chip is a beloved little stinker, he would occasionally escape their chambers and make a break for it, just to get a peak at the cool party!!!! and that’s what happened that night!

All this to say, it makes for very sweet thoughts for after the curse is lifted, when Adam is kinder and warmer and actually acknowledges Chip. I absolutely think Adam apologized to Chip individually, for ever frightening him, and for putting him through this at all. And Chip, being the sweetheart that he is, would forgive Adam, and continue looking up to him. And this time it actually means something to Adam, leading to a very sweet and special bond between them. (Mrs. Potts’ two boys!!! Her son and her surrogate son… <3)

And as a bit of a cute ending side note also from the quote, Chip having a crush on Belle is very very very cute. He thinks she’s so pretty and cool, and he’s RIGHT. And the fact that he weaseled his way into her room and nicked one of the tassels from her bed??? to keep it with him????? what a little hopeless romantic this boy is!! We simply have to stan. I’m so glad he gets to grow up looking up to both Adam and Belle. They really become heroes in his eyes, and I think they dote on him quite a bit, as he deserves!!!

[abibliophobiaa]

Okay okay so I am now coherent enough to write a proper comment on chapter 6 of Beyond. Chapter 6 is a swoon-worthy dream of a chapter, I am swept away by the romance and honestly I was kicking my heels from how happy I was reading the whole thing. The imagery in my head was Anastasia in her midnight blue gown (y’know in the animated film where she was meeting her grandmama / empress) and Dimitri dancing and falling in love in a gorgeous ballroom - except its Steve x reader but those were the vibes. Excellent choice on Frank Sinatra’s The Way You Look Tonight, it is the perfect ballroom romance song. Steve is just so tender with reader from him tending to her wound to the way he was just so happy to have her there with him at the ball, to that kiss! That kiss that was for them and not for anyone else! Truly I love this chapter, I loved that Charlie puppy was there, I loved best friend Eddie and how protective and supportive he is, clearly he knows Steve is falling in love and he knows reader will be in good hands. Anyway I am twirling my hair and kicking my heels💕 I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

IM SCREAMING. You ALWAYS ALWAYS have the best comparisons! And Anastasia?! I’m gonna cry. Lol. No one look at me. One of my fav movies. Last chapter it was Beauty and the Beast you referenced and now Anastasia?! Are you trying to kill me? Because it’s working. 🥹😭

Also, AGAIN. Everyone say thank you Myo for the kiss.

But in all seriousness, thank you for always leaving the most lovely feedback. It means the literal world to me and I’m so grateful that anyone would take the time to talk about my little stories. 🥹

I cannot wait to share the next one with you all. I am 99.9% certain you’ll all enjoy. 😏😂🩷🥰

[k00282802]

temporary brief, art/artist research: beauty and the beast castle comparison (2/1/23)

while working on this project, I really wanted to have my research circle back to one media that I really enjoy; animation and 2d art. so for one aspect of my research, I want to take a look at one of my favorite animation films of all time, feature a castle similar to my project theme; beauty and the beast (1990)

the specific aspect I wanted to look at within the film for my project, was the difference in the castles design at the beginning of them film, in contrast to how its shown at the end of the film. I wanted to look at this as inspiration for my own work, in the sense of how a structure can look while in use, then again while it is mostly abandoned. the castle in the movie is different then the actual real life one I am focusing on, I think the theme similarities' would still be interesting to look at.

the first scenes I want to study are during the first half of the films run time, specifically these shots from the introduction (pic 1), later on in the film, when belle first arrives at the beast castle (pic 2) and the shot of her ascending the stairs to the castles west wing (pic 3

I chose these three first shots, due to the details and signs of wear and tear that can be seen within the castles both inside and outside. I can see this through the vines incapsulating the stain glass window in the first image, wrapping around both the old statues and the windows itself. I also like the second image, where we see a full shot of the castles exterior, and also what the front entrance of the castles looks like, surrounded by long dead trees and a old brick wall. the third image can also show signs of aging within the building itself as well, with the interior being made of brick and marble, painted in a dark and wore down fashion. the time that has passed since the castle has been in proper use can be very clearly seen within the environment of the story.

next to this, I also found three images from later on in the movie, specifically the ending scenes after the curse upon the castles and the inhabitants is broken, which I think showcase the contrast in look and atmosphere of the castle before and after. the scenes specifically from the curse breaking (pic 1), to the final ballroom scene (pic 2), and the ending (pic 3)

comparing these to the previous shots, big differences can be seen, with brighter colors in the stones in the exterior of the castle, the vines once wrapped around the window pain now being full of blossoming flowers, and the interior being shown with well lit and colorful pillars and floors of marble. I really like how these scene do the job as recasting the castle itself in a more alive revived, or even a more "living" sense compared to the rest of the movie's characterization.

these contrast I've found while looking back over this movie give me a few ideas for my own project, mainly to do with a few shots that I have taken of king johns castle during my primary research. i may try and recreate this "coming to life" feel that I can see through these shots in my own work.

[jotunkhiicha]

I like Blade. That’s it really.

Upon My Chest, He Placed Red Spider Lillies.

Upon the sweet, delicate and constricting stage of the universe at large, Skáfos dances proudly, yet with hints of frailty in Blade’s grip as he holds her tight, so tight that she wonders if he fears she’ll slither away or fade away into smoke between his fingertips and beneath his body.

He doesn’t let her go—he cannot.

His Mara, the furious beast trapped behind seals upon seals, rattles against its confines to have an opportunity to taste her flesh, to feast upon the stars and leave cosmic cataclysms in the wake of its lust. It constantly wants to feel her flesh bruise, to see her eyes lose their glimmer and her words lose their elegance. Where he seeks, selfishly, to preserve, it seeks to destroy.

Can a blade be both in tandem?

Whether it can, or not, he will.

Pulling her closer as they dance on this gauche ballroom floor with bodies of Blade’s victims around them, Skáfos keeps her gaze transfixed upon his delightful sunset orbs and how she wonders how she could be consumed by them—can she?

Can he?

The twisted violins sing and purr at her whims while he spins her, delicately and purposefully, careful to pin this moment down to a singular sect of his mind so he may never lose her.

He retraces the ancient memories buried beneath thousands of years worth of deaths, yet this particular memory of dancing with a strange Vidyadhara, one whose hair was the colour of dyed ivory and whose eyes were the colour of amethyst. He recalls the remarks she had made to him about his footwork.

“Be mindful of your two left feet, Yingxing!” She scolded him like a mother would her babe, but he was not hers to tame, nor was he anything more than a flicker of being to her.

However, he still moves carefully to avoid stepping upon Skáfos’ delicate feet, having clearly taken the immortal’s words to heart.

His next lesson came not from the Vidyadhara with ivory hair, no. His next lesson came from the same being he waltzes with now—Skáfos—before she purged the inner God.

She was gentle, like an ocean breeze on a middling summer’s day.

“You can put your hands here,” She moved one of his hands just where her flesh dipped and then her hips came into form, such a feeling was like liquid fire to him, “And, remember, look into my eyes, Blade. It’s impolite if you don’t.” She had chastised him, but he recognised that familiar teasing tone of hers—she was flirting with him, perhaps he should squeeze that junction of her hips as they danced with the familiar scratch of old audio.

The quality of the audio was what one would expect from a dusty record found by Skáfos as she delved through her Luofu belongings, but the audio wasn’t what kept him there, in her constricting hold, it was her intoxicating presence.

Or was it her beautiful eyes as they watched him, as they waited for him to make his move and descend upon her like waves into the shore?

He was a few millennia old, even he, in his memory’s shackles, can still recall the first kiss he shared beneath a stairwell with that familiar acrid smell but, if he is a new person, surely this one could be his new first—the only one that mattered?

He gladly remembers the feeling her her soft lips upon his, the sensation of her breath fluttering across his cheeks like a hurricane, but this warned him and he cared not for the alarms. He wanted it all, fire and all, and he got it.

As they dance now, together as one with lessons painted in their minds, the movements are muscle memory for them while they slaughter those that disturb the equilibrium of life and death, of white and black, of chaos and stillness.

It is so brutally beatific.

[weaversweek]

Perfect Pop 4b - Debbie Gibson

Earlier, we covered Debbie Gibson’s hit career, in 1988 and 1989.

Anything Is Possible screamed the third album in early 1991. Turned out that anything was possible, except a Debbie Gibson comeback. An interview with Phillip Schofield presaged the title track coming out as a single .... and stalling at 51. Ver Dumper says "hello, glad you’re in me".

There was a lot of good work on the album. One of the best is "Another brick falls", clearly influenced by Elton John and Billy Joel's "Stormfront" album. Here's what Debbie told Billboard in 2018:

I am still not quite sure about why I was writing about adult stress at such a young age, but I now constantly can relate to the idea that just when you have one piece of life's puzzle figured out, something else goes wrong, and nothing is ever quite all in sync at one time. I really enjoy delivering it live now with way more life experience behind it.

Here's a performance from 2018.

From here, Debbie took a surprise turn to musical theatre, Éponine in Les Miserables on Broadway, and then to London in 1993.

Debbie had been cast as Sandy in the stage musical of Grease, a massive West End production with all the hype that entails. And all the pressure from the 1978 film: Debbie and her co-lead Craig McLachlan could never be Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta, and were right to play the parts their own way. Sandy's big number is "Hopelessly devoted to you".

Debbie did a lot of promotion for this show, including an interview on This Morning. All the years on tour playing Pictionary ensured Debbie was a whizz for Grease Week on Win Lose or Draw with Shane Richie.

Debbie also worked with Shane on Run the Risk, and particularly enjoyed being a white wolf for a hot minute. Furry 'nough.

Back in the States, the album Think With Your Heart came out in 1995, firmly for the Radio 2 audience, and coming about 25 years before the fashion to pair a great vocalist with a philharmonic orchestra. Dance-pop song "Your secret" had some regional success.

There was a jukebox musical Electric Youth, Belle in theatre's Beauty and the Beast. @matgb​ reminds me of a crappy straight-to-VHS movie with Tiffany and some bad CGI, which I must watch on the 30th of this month. Debbie went on Ballroom With The B-List, and was second out.

Almost inevitably, there’s been a Christmas album. Guess what - it’s a good one! Winterlicious was my favourite festive set from 2022, and it has the new year song "Cheers!". It's in memory of Debbie's late mother, the one who jokingly threatened to cut off the phone because Debbie talked too much.

[last-night-is-a-blur]

Headcanons for Isaac and Nigel watching Disney’s beauty and the beast? They would of known the fairytale cos it was written in 1740

I have actually forgotten almost everything about that movie, but I know the basic plot of it.

Nigel has a vague recollection of having the 1756 version by Beaumont, because he overheard it being read to his sister a few times, while Isaac overheard someone read the same version for the girls in Hetty's family, and remembers it much more clearly.

Both are surprised by the changes made to the plot.

Still, both of them find the movie enjoyable, and really like the music.

Isaac's favorite scenes are the dance scene with Belle and Beast and the Beast's fight with Gaston and his subsequent faux-death.

Isaac gets Sam to find the song from the dance scene online and play it, so the two of the get to dance to it.

This leads to a bit of awkwardness, when they have to decide who "is the woman" in the dance, but they both decide to take turn. It's a bit awkward at first, since neither are used to dancing the "woman" steps, but after a while, they get the hang of it.

Ballroom dancing becomes a very popular activity between the two of them after that. They will get Sam to place the Alexa somewhere private and have it play a song list on repeat, so they can dance for as long as they like without having to ask Sam or Alberta for help.

[ganymedesclock]

Concept: beauty and the beast reimagining where instead of a magical curse or transformation the beast/prince character is a robot who was once a gorgeous state-of-the-art construction with elaborate paneling and fine details, who for one reason or another was left alone in a state of disrepair and doesn’t have the resources to rebuild himself, and his relationship with the beauty character hinges partially on her restoration of his body, initially just as an agreement between them, but later as an act of love.

[devilfic]

❝where two are joined, relentlessly❞

II. best-kept memories.

parts: previously / next plot: too dangerous to go home on your own, alfred offers for you to spend the night at wayne tower. the “nocturnal animal” was not informed. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader cw: angst, with a sprinkling of fluff at the end, depictions of grief-related anger (no violence).  words: 3.3k.

a/n: wow! I did not expect so much love on “go, go, loverboy”! thank you all for the genuinely lovely comments and requests for another part. I hadn’t really planned on writing one, but I got kind of carried away with this idea. I also decided to add a little lore for you, the reader. if anyone is interested in more parts, you might get to learn what all of it is ^^

“If I drive slow, I’ll be home in no time.”

Gotham City was no stranger to torrential rains, but tonight seemed especially severe. In addition to the already freezing weather, all residents of Gotham were being advised to stay off the roads if at all possible, and it seemed that Alfred had taken that advice to heart.

“Do you think competent employees grow on trees? I’d rather not take the chance.” Zeus on his side, a thunderous boom! shook the tower, effectively sending you a few inches off your seat. You didn’t even need to look at Alfred to know he was smug.

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate Alfred’s hospitality—far from it: you couldn’t ask for a kinder employer—and you’d spent many a late night traversing the spellbinding penthouse that was Wayne Tower’s glory, but you’d never gone further than the first floor. You felt like Belle wandering into the forbidden west wing of Beast’s castle at the thought of staying the night here.

In comes Dory with a silver platter of piping hot tea. “The roads are all covered in ice, you’re better off staying!” Well, she’d clearly already picked a side in this. Taking a polished teacup and setting it before you, Dory fills it up halfway with what you recognized to be Earl Grey, her specialty. 

“Really, guys, I don’t want to be a bother.” But even as you address the senior staff of Wayne Tower, you find that you’re really not talking to them at all. Of course, who you really meant to say that to wasn’t home right now.

Alfred takes the initiative to confiscate the paperwork you’d been slaving over since the early evening, setting it well out of your reach despite your protests. “It’s not like you’d be taking up much space. Besides, we don’t want you getting hurt,” your heart swells at Alfred’s proclamation, “and we won’t have anyone saying that we don’t take care of our own.”

Dory gives you a smile as if to say that you wouldn’t be winning this argument.

And, contrary to popular belief, you did know when to quit sometimes. “And you’re sure Bruce won’t mind?”

“Master Wayne won’t even notice you were here.”

“...And as you know, the Waynes donated their ancestral manor to the city many years ago. Why, when it was still standing, there was a grand ballroom Master Bruce loved to run around in. I appreciated the Waynes moving to somewhere more modest; having to find and apprehend that child with so much room to stretch his legs... I fear I’ll pay the price well into my old age.” 

Dory had been kind enough to give you a tour of the penthouse before sending you off to bed, and even in your half-awake state, the grandeur of the home was not lost on you. While Dory insisted the penthouse was “more modest”, you still found yourself spinning in circles trying to recall which door lead to where.

“Oh, so Bruce has always been difficult,” You joke, pleased to draw a laugh out of the kindly housekeeper, “this place is really beautiful. Staying the night here for free feels illegal.”

Dory smacks your arm at that, “Nonsense. After you’ve done so much for Alfred and Bruce this past year, this is just as much your home as it is ours. And I mean that sincerely. If you ever need a safe haven, you are more than welcome to come here.”

The offer was... sweet. Since discovering the truth about the Batman, your pay had risen a hefty amount, but you’d still been saving for months just to get a better place than the one you had now. Gotham barely had a decent middle class with the way the city seemed divided into the haves and the have nots. You were either rich enough to own your own building or you were out on the street. Those living in mold-infested holes like your apartment were better off, but always one bad day away from the street. It didn’t help that you had someone to take care of, and the only thing worse than rent in Gotham was healthcare.

This job had truly changed your life, but you were more than well aware of how lucky you were. “That’s very generous, thank you. Though I imagine we’d have to run that by Bruce first.”

A melancholic look crosses Dory’s face, “I think it would do him good to be around someone his age. I’ve always wanted Bruce to have a friend.” God, if that didn’t tug at your heartstrings. “Anywho, that’s enough of a history lesson for you. I shouldn’t keep you any longer. Remember: Alfred and I’s rooms are on the first floor if you need us for anything, and Master Bruce’s is at the very end of the hall.”

The two of you stop right outside one of the guest rooms she’d shown you earlier, and while you still had a very vague layout of the place, you were sure you could manage to not get lost. You had plans to sleep like a log the minute she left you alone, after all. “Thank you, Dory. I really appreciate this.”

With a gentle smile and pat on your arm, the housekeeper makes her way back down to the first floor to retire for the night. 

Once left to your own devices, you find yourself secretly grateful for Alfred’s insistence to stay. With the storm raging on outside and thanks to some necessary reorganizing of Wayne Enterprises, you, Alfred, and Bruce (when you could get a hold of him) had been working nonstop getting affairs in order. The constant stream of emails, phone calls, board meetings, and paperwork seemed to take more of a toll on your body than you’d been aware of.

You hadn’t even taken the time to admire the room as you might’ve done if you were more awake, instead finding the nearest bed-shaped object in the dark and sleepily crawling into it. It felt like heaven to your weary bones. Within minutes, you were out like a light.

Until the thunder started.

Your heart beat in terror as you shot up in bed, exhausted mind taking a few seconds to process where you were upon waking. With the storm raging on outside the window, Wayne Tower’s proximity to the sky only made you feel closer to the rolling thunder. Squinting at the screen of your phone, you discovered that it was only 3 in the morning. You’d barely been asleep for a few hours.

You depart your room in a sleepy daze, cursing the labyrinthine hallways in an effort to find the restroom. You couldn’t recall a time you’d felt more relieved to see a toilet in your life.

After relieving yourself, you made your way back toward the sleeping quarters and noted all the surrounding landmarks that would guide you back to your room: Bruce’s room at the very end of the hall, the window two rooms down from where Dory had left you (or was it three?), and the door left cracked open. Confidently, you push against the heavy door and begin to head toward where you remembered the bed to be. 

You’re rather shocked when your foot bumps against a table instead. The bed had been on the right side of the room before, hadn’t it? Why was there a table here all of a sudden?

Lightning illuminates the room at once, highlighting only the silhouette of a darkly clad figure mere feet away from you. 

In your fear-ridden, addled mind, throwing a punch at the intruder seemed like the best course of action. 

They catch it easily within their leathery grip, and so your next best bet is to scream, but you don’t even get the chance to do more than whimper when the figure places their other hand firmly over your lips, pressing you backwards until you fall awkwardly into a chair. You have to give yourself credit for how deftly you struggle, especially when you hear a grunt of frustration leave the intruder looming above you. 

Just as you begin to pry open your jaw wide enough to bite the intruder’s fingers, they gruffly interrogate you, “What are you doing here?”

The clouds didn’t allow for moonlight to pass through the windows, so you could only make out who the figure on top of you was through their familiar tone alone. The caped crusader is illuminated by lightning once more, affirming your (growing) mortification. Behind the leather of his glove, you retract the thought of biting your boss altogether, “B-Bruce?”

The hand on your mouth falls away. It’s still dark and hard to make him out, but if you had to guess, the quick exhales of breath on your face told you just enough about his mood. The silence that stretches between you implores you to explain yourself. “Alfred said it was too dangerous to drive home in the rain.” 

“What are you doing here?”

You’d anticipated that Bruce would be uncomfortable with you staying in his family home, but this doesn’t sound like discomfort or even surprise. He sounds genuinely... angry. You’d never been on the receiving end of Bruce’s anger before; Alfred had suffered his fair share of outbursts given that they were close—and you imagined every thug in Gotham had suffered their fair share of the Batman’s wrath—but even at your most bothersome, he had never spoken to you this way.

He must realize that you aren’t sure what to say to that. Swiftly, he releases your wrist and stomps off somewhere nearby, leaving you completely helpless in the dark. Just as you consider feeling your way toward the door, the room fills with dull, yellow light. This is certainly not the room you’d gone to sleep in.

The room is massive, the size of your apartment at the very least. There’s a large four-poster across from where you’re seated that Bruce stands next to, still clad in his Batsuit. A fireplace takes up the longest wall with several photos and antiques lining the expansive mantelpiece, and you find yourself sat in one of a pair of armchairs beside it.  There’s framed personal art here and there, but you come to a complete stop when you catch sight of the largest one hanging right behind you: it’s a traditional portrait depicting two figures standing side by side, both smiling with one hand each settled on a little boy’s shoulders. The painting was of Thomas, Martha, and a young Bruce Wayne. 

You couldn’t imagine they kept a painting like this in just any room.

You just about leap out of the armchair, scrambling to the middle of the room with a renewed sense of panic. Had you been a little more lucid, you probably would have picked up on the stale scent your room pointedly did not have at the doorway. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have even stumbled into Thomas and Martha Wayne’s bedroom at all.

The lamp’s meager light does nothing to show you Bruce’s face clearly, but you don’t need to see him to feel the intensity of his glare. “Bruce, I am so sorry. I didn’t even realize what room I’d walked into when I... Please believe me when I say I would never-” Your apology feels lackluster as it spills from your mouth but you’re desperate to get it out, if only to salvage what little good opinion Bruce still had of you. After all, Bruce (and Alfred, and Dory) had been nothing but kind to you. Giving you this job, trusting you with his secret, letting you into his home that had previously been his tomb. You felt awful.

The more your eyes adjust, the more you’re able to make out the quick rise and fall of Bruce’s shoulders. You think for a moment that he’s holding himself back from unleashing a wave of fury on you and you start to consider leaving the tower altogether (and signing your resignation, and never coming back again). Perhaps it was too soon to call, but from the way that Bruce was reacting, you worried this moment would set your progress with him back this entire last year and more.

You do nothing but stand there, nervous and twiddling your thumbs. 

It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop, as if the storm had settled only so you could hear Bruce’s slowing breathing. “I can leave... if you want. The roads are probably clear by now.”

Bruce says nothing. You almost want Alfred himself to sense the tension and come rescue the situation, drag you out by your elbow and send you on your way. Nothing could come of this standstill: you, too afraid to move. Bruce, too angry to speak.

You almost flinch when Bruce raises his hands to his head and pulls off his mask. The movement makes raindrops roll off his shoulders and cape in rivulets, and you realize that he must’ve only just gotten home when you’d entered his parents’ room. 

It’d be comical under different circumstances how Bruce, as soon as the cowl is removed, can no longer look you in the eye. He holds it to his chest like a security blanket.

“No one comes in here but me,” he starts, shockingly weak-voiced now, "Not Dory, not even Alfred.”

That explained some things: the fine layer of dust over everything, the top to his mother’s perfume that was never put back on, the pair of oxfords tucked neatly by his father’s side of the bed as if they’d been set out to wear the next day. This room was a time capsule, his parents’ last tangible moment in time. And you... 

Bruce steps forward, still avoiding eye contact with you. He stops at the mantelpiece just a few feet away from you, “I come in here when I can’t sleep. Or just to remember how they left it.”

Your heart shatters at his confession. You couldn’t possibly fathom what your presence here had done to him psychologically. You keep your voice as low as his, hoping to make yourself as small as possible, “I saw the door left open. Was that you?” Bruce hums. “I’m sorry. It hadn’t been when I’d gone looking for the restroom. I couldn’t find my- I mean, the guest room. I’d just assumed.”

Bruce looks up at you, blue eyes striking against the black. He assesses you with some hesitance. “I apologize for scaring you.”

Your shoulders sink with some surprise, “You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do.” He says with indignation, frustratedly drawing his brows together. “It’s not like I’m protecting any living thing.”

The way he says that breaks your heart even more. You don’t want to make him feel worse. You school your expression into one of compassion and hope that he doesn’t take it as pity, “These... things aren’t alive, no, but the memory is. That’s why you come here. That’s why no one else does.”

What you say must strike a chord with him because his mouth falls open at that and he doesn’t attempt to say anything further. In the past, you’d been very good at earning Bruce’s silence, but you’d never made him speechless before. You only hoped that it wasn’t for the wrong reasons. 

Thunder strikes again. The storm hadn’t settled at all, it seemed.

You snap to attention when you remember that Bruce is currently soaking wet in front of you, suit still dripping all over the floor. “Jesus, Bruce. You must be freezing. Can I make you some tea?”

A freshly-showered Bruce whispers a “thank you” over the cup of tea you’d fashioned for him, sipping at the warmth. You weren’t half as talented as Dory at making tea, and you’d forgone the fancy china in case you got clumsy and broke something you definitely couldn’t afford to fix. You just hoped it did its job in warming him up. “How did tonight’s crimefighting go?”

“Even criminals hate bad weather.” He traces a finger around the rim of the cup, “Got all wet for nothing.”

You’d encouraged the sad, wet cat to go clean up before he inevitably caught a cold. The last thing you wanted to put on Alfred’s shoulders was a sick Bruce, the very likes of which you’d yet to see. He’d still insisted on coming down to the Batcave however, and you didn’t see how standing around in a cold, abandoned subway station with wet hair would end well for him. “I’m sure you looked super cool strutting around in the rain, though. Someone probably saw and thought ‘Wow, Batman’s so cool. He gets drenched like a badass’.”

Bruce snorts, then picks up a sugar cube and flicks it at you. 

Narrowly dodging his assault (and almost dousing yourself in piping hot tea), you continue, “I just hope you didn’t get sick. Who knows what Gotham will do if Batman has to take a sick day?” 

“Bats don’t get sick.” Bruce states in a matter-of-fact way, as if it at all applied to him.

“Bats, sure. Men? Very prone to sickness. Kinda been a thing for a while now.”

“I don’t get sick.”

“With all that money, you better not.”

You’re thankful that the tense air from before had since dissipated. The storm had settled too, which left you with a gentle rainfall quietly dripping within the terminal, lulling you into a state of peace. Your nocturnal boss remained as vigilant as ever, though. If anything, his shower had only invigorated him to get some much needed work done. You wondered how this came so easy to him. After working for him for a year, you couldn’t fathom having the dedication it took to continue to do what he did every night, most nights, without fail.

You supposed you’d never met someone who loved Gotham as much as he did.

“Bruce?” You call, and while he doesn’t look away from his notes, he makes a noise to let you know he’s listening, ”Why did you hire me?”

“Alfred hired you.”

“No, he didn’t.” But you’d always thought he did. It wasn’t until Alfred had admitted to the contrary one long work day that you’d discovered the truth.

Bruce pauses in his note-taking, thinking. After a few seconds, he resumes once more, “You looked smart. Someone who could keep up with Alfred.”

“Why did you tell me you were Batman?”

“It wasn’t really like I had a choice. You’d already had it all figured out.” Bruce could laugh about it now that it had been months since the attack on Wayne Tower and the floods that wiped away nearly half of Gotham City, but that night had been the most nerve-wracking of your life. On top of Alfred being hospitalized, you and Dory had been the only ones to see the aftermath of the Riddler’s scheme on Bruce. After all, your boss wouldn’t be caught dead at a public function if he could help it.

You take refuge on the couch near his desk, tucking your legs underneath you to conserve what little warmth you could down here. There were a host of reasons why you wanted to know, some probably more obvious to Bruce than others, but there was a glaring question you never felt he’d truly answered: Why me? Out of everyone else, why choose me? “Guess you’re right.”

Time passes just like that. Bruce works and you watch. When you get tired and fall asleep against the couch arm, Bruce finds a blanket to cover you with. And when morning comes and you find Bruce fast asleep on his desk, hunched over his notes, you return the favor.

[binniesthighs]

kinktober - 03

pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x kang yeosang (ateez) 

genre: smut! 18+ 

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i’m tryin’ to speedy catch up and get ahead so i hope ya all like the shorter little passages teehee i rarely write fantasy so I was so so excited for this one! and some yeosang...we love to see it ;) 

[warnings under the cut!] 

warnings: arranged marriage au, virgin!reader, first time au, “bloodletting” as I explain it--blood drinking as a mating ritual, unprotected sex (penetration), oral (r receiving) 

---   ---

The cold night air burned at the tips of your ears, although your hand was warm. Every step that you made as you ran was unsure, yet you didn’t falter running behind him and with the wind howling beside you. Your arms were bare too, baskling in the moonlight that consumed you and reminded you of what was to come. 

Your newly wed husband said nothing, still nearly emotionless has he had been the whole night. There was little that you knew of him aside from the fact that he was a prince, soon to be king, and that he had chosen you. He should have scared you, but there was nothing that you had quite come to fear. Some had said that he was cruel, that he was unfeeling and plotting, but he had only ever been gentle with you. 

He still held your hand, gentle, as he had been the whole night through. 

The commontion of the night was left behind you twisted into a symphony of screams, the bellowing of an organ, and the prized royal swarm of bats set loose as a distraction. Poison had been slipped into the proper cup, and no one was to know who had done it. 

Except you. 

The king was dead, and the bells on the high chapel rang for him on the night of his eldest son’s wedding. 

Yeosang tugged you along in your proper and elegant shoes that had been made to suit only your feet. The billowing fabric of your wedding attire flew loosely behind you were it flew in its golden and white beauty, and also hung low from your wrists where you had it wrapped. Mud and muck started to stain it as you ran with him into the woods surrounding your castle. 

It was certainly yours now. 

Before you had left, he had whispered into your ear in the ballroom: “You don’t need to worry. I’ll make sure of it that you’re taken care of after it all.” 

You didn’t have the slightest idea what it had meant, but after the queen’s blood-curling scream and the splash of red which feel from the king’s mouth to his royal bib, you knew that your trust would only lay with the prince. Strangely, upon hearing the screams, he had laid a light kiss to the shell of your ear, then to your jaw. 

“I didn’t tell you yet that you look lovely tonight. The perfect match. We’ll have our time soon.” 

After then, he hadn’t said anything else, but sweep you to the long corridor lined with guests in masquerade masks that made them look like all kinds of fantastical beasts. Some of them had beaks like birds, others resembling lions and other great cats. His face was the only one that you could make out. The lights were dimmed in their flickering lamps, and the oil paints on their walls unmoving even as you flew past them to the grand entrance. 

His had was still warm even after running deep into the woods, nor did he look back once the bells had started ringing. They made great and wide resounding calls that seemed to echo in your ears even after they stopped after ten tones. 

Ten to signal the death of a king. 

The thought had also crossed your mind of what this meant of your wedding night, and if the prince had intended to keep traditions the same. 

Clearly, he had other plans. 

The startlingly handsome and mysterious man was impossible to decipher, with eyes as sly as a cat and a little tilting smile that only gave the simple impression of amusement. He had looked at you that way when you had first met him in that throne room where you stood among the other potential matches for the powerful prince. He took his time taking you in: every angle of you to ensure that you were the one that he truly wanted. 

Like the rest of the royals, he had deeply red-crimson eyes. They were the keys of the true-born son of the king; a bloodline that hadn’t been disturbed in centuries. You knew too that one day your offspring would have those same colored eyes...after tonight...if everything went according to the usual plan. 

“--Yeosang--” You called to him, but it was unlikely that he had heard your voice. 

Together you approached the outer mouth of the woods, coming upon a clearing far from the castle, far from the road and from any others who would seek to find it. Under the willows and the wide expanse of stars, there was a bed or sorts made up by a thick and fluffy-looking hay mattress draped in white sheets. The lightning bugs of the night provided the only light. 

“--Couldn’t have lanterns,” He explained, “--can’t have them find us.” 

Your husband led you by the hand further to sit upon the mattress and to swaddle you in the collection of blankets both thick and thin. While some of them were itchy upon you skin, others were as soft as silk. 

“What is this?” You questioned him, although the answer was somewhat obvious. Even in the chaos of the whole night, he still hadn’t forgotten at all. 

“Our wedding bed,” He said, nonchalant, “We can’t forget about our most sacred traditions,” Yeosang moved to sit close beside you, brushing the back of his his hand against your cheek, “When we become one forever.” 

You hadn’t been nervous before, but seeing as the time had finally come, your heart began to race. 

“...You mean?” 

He didn’t answer, but instead moved to place another chaste kiss to your cheek as he had done in the ballroom. It was a simple gesture, but the both of you knew what it had meant. Only mated couples were aloud to touch one another so intimately. You, in fact, had never been touched as such before him. 

His kiss moved to your jaw as it had done before, then lower to your neck where he sucked lightly into your skin in the way that could make you shiver. It was a sensation that you had never felt before, but it was beautiful. You were distracted from the outdoors, the chirping of the crickets and the soft ocean-like sound of the leaves waving in the wind. You felt hotter, as did the tips of your once-cold ears. 

Yeosang reached for your hands folded in your lap, bringing your hands to his lips which he kissed at as delicate as flower petals. He was dangerously close to where he would then make his final vow to you, and it made your whole being quake. He kissed down to your wrists, right over the pumping vein. 

“W-will it hurt?” You asked, suddenly fearful. 

His lips brushed over the vein once more, giving it his attention carefully. 

“It will,” He hushed, “But only for a little while.” 

The bloodletting, your people called it. It was a sharing of one’s pure essence, when two mates could have a part of the other inside of them for the rest of their lives in a way that could bond them like no other. 

Yeosang’s kisses turned harsher at your wrists, sucking until it started to sting. You were hesitant as well, but you knew your duty as well. You took his wrists in return, bringing his left to you lips where you kissed into him as well. This close, you could feel the beat of his own heartbeats through that vein right against your lips. He tasted sweet and perfumed, and you wondered what you had tasted like too. 

He didn’t have to say it for you to know that he was ready, and you gave him a look of affirmation in response. A moment of locked eyes was all that it took for both of you to take your teeth to the other’s vulnerable flesh right below their palm, and bite with all your might. 

The taste of iron flooded your mouth, a harsh and metallic taste that distracted from the fact that your own skin had been torn and the red had stained his lips, just as his color had stained yours. After you had gotten over the first shock of it, a headier feeling consumed you and made you feel light; dizzy almost. His being was starting to become a part of you, as it was for him. He had closed his eyes, yet they still fluttered under closed lids. When the pain subsided, it melted into pure euphoria. 

A whimper from your lips vibrated his wrist, and he let one back to you in return. 

Gasping, the blood had stopped, and you turned to look your mate right in the eyes that were an even more violent shade of crimson. A type of infatuation set in to you, seeing him like you had never seen him before and all that was left for you was to crave him in every way that you could claim.  

You didn’t see that the sheets had been spotted in your blood--or his--when you leapt into his open arms that held you to his chest with such strength you couldn’t find air to breathe. The cracks of his lips were red from your blood, yet that was of no conscience when you had kissed them with such ferocity and hunger that you really had forgotten to breathe. 

It was then when you felt him smile against you: it was an expression you had not yet felt before, yet it tickled you, and made your own smile form against him. Your body tingled after feeling his tongue meet yours in the middle of the kiss, to which you groaned out from the new feeling. Before, no one had ever been this close, nor would they ever. The feeling of another person’s warmth against your own was all to intoxicating to ever want to give up. 

Your bodies lowered to the bed, writing and twisting up in each other in a tangle of fabric and fine jewelry. Together, the night was much warmer, and you felt as if there was nothing to fear. Bowing tall grasses swept this way and that, hiding the both of you in seclusion. Curious hands tucked up loose clothing and worked at buttons and ties that came undone quickly. He wore velvet which felt wonderful on your fingertips when you ran your hands up his chest and down his back, and it felt even more wonderful casting it aside to touch him closely like none had done before. Yeosang did the same to you, exploring you until you shivered. 

“My love,” He affectionately called between kisses, saying the phrase over and over until it sounded strange. 

You kissed him in turn to the neck, collarbones, and all the way down his chest and stomach to his waist which spasmed from the light touch of you. He repeated the same actions, pink tongue glistening when he would move the warm muscle against you and down between your legs which he spread to allow for even more attention. Nothing had felt as good as when he brought his lips to kiss between your legs, using both his tongue and the plush skin to make your body feel as it had never done before. Crimson eyes looked up at you as tears began to form from the way that your body feel tight, and right as if it was about to snap with pleasure. 

With heels sunk into the cushy mattress, you felt you eyes roll back behind you, all the way to the tall grasses, even as far as to see the deeply blue sky twinkling with stars. Your hands filled with the sheets stained with the blood now in a darker color--you had forgotten how they had even gotten to be that way in the first place. 

Yeosang paused for a moment with his lips glistening from the sparkle of your liquids and his saliva at his mouth. He was thrilled, even bewildered. This was a side of him that you suddenly knew that only you would have the pleasure of seeing for the rest of your life. The cool wind blew through, although your heat could battle it. 

Your eager hands fiddled with his trousers tented from the thickness of his girth. Preciously, you would have been nervous to have beheld such a sight, much less understand what it meant to be bare with another person--the person being your prince...or now king. The royal blood within you coursed and roared behind your ears. It made you feel insatiable, and it made you feel enchanted. 

The prince laid down cushioned by the pillows which had strewn his blonde hair about; it made him even more breathtaking basking in the silver moon. With your hand you pumped at his length, up and down until he wet you with his own eagerness and the pink of his tip flared. 

“Hold me close,” You asked of him, straddling him to the tune of the evening sparrows and the croak of the toads in the nearby creek. 

He nodded, sitting to wrap his arms around your back, and easing you onto his length. The both of you gasped upon feeling it: the one thing that your people held sacred and holy and you finally understood why. Your hips rolled over him, letting his full length inside and pleasure you until you moaned weakly into his shoulder. As you did, your body quaked from your arms to your calves, and the prince took your wrist to his mouth once more to taste the last bits of your own essence he could consume. 

“My love, my love...” He chanted softly to the rhythm of your hips. 

“My king,” You echoed in return. 

~🌹~ 

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @dom–minnie @mistakensilence @hotgorloikawa @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[anonymousewrites]

There's a Beauty; There's a Beast Prologue

Prologue: Cursed

            Once upon a time, in the hidden heart of France, the handsome Prince Dazai Osamu lived in a beautiful castle.

Dazai stood in front of a mirror, preparing for a ball. A dark suit and tie with his many bandages created an air of mystery in the young man.

            Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was selfish and unkind.

He finished tightening his tie when his butler called out to him. “It’s time, sire.”

            He taxed the village to fill his castle with the most beautiful objects and his parties with the most beautiful people.

Raised above the dancers and servants, Dazai sat on his throne. As a redhead began to play the piano, the prince watched as the ladies and men danced. He stood and joined. A talented singer with long black hair pinned into an elegant, braided bun began singing.

(Akira) “Oh, how divine, Glamour, music, and magic combine,”

            Dazai moved gracefully from partner to partner as they attempted to keep his attention.

(Akira) “See the people so anxious to shine, Look for a sign that enhances chances, They’ll be his special one!”

            As the music swelled, the dancing became more intricate. The women and men whirled around Dazai, gowns flaring as they pirouetted and leaped around the dancefloor.

(Akira) “What a display, What a breathtaking, thrilling array, Ev’ry prince, ev’ry dog has his day,”

            Dazai moved smoothly through the sea of dancers to the front, standing with his back to the hall’s doors as he watched and enchanting spectacle before him.

(Akira) “Let us sing with passion, gusto, Fit to bust oh! Not a care in the world—”

            A knock sounded at the door. Freezing in place, all the dancers turned in shock as thunder struck and door blew open. In stepped an old, haggard man, battered from the raging storm. The wind howled as it extinguished the candles on the chandeliers, throwing the ballroom into darkness.

            Then, one night, an unexpected intruder arrived at the castle, seeking shelter from the bitter storm.

            Dazai was handed a candle so he could see as he approachedthe man. Angry at his fun being interrupted, the young prince loomed over the beggar.

            As a gift, he offered the prince a single, strangely green rose.

Scornful of such a “pitiful” payment, Dazai laughed derisively. His guests joined him.

            Repulsed by his haggard appearance, the prince turned the old man away.

Smirking with smug pride, the brown-haired young man dropped the rose to his feet, showing his disdain clearly.

            But the beggar warned him not to be deceived by appearances.

The candle in Dazai’s hand blew out without a gust of wind to affect it. All sound quieted. Tension weighed heavy in the air.

            For beauty is found within. When the prince dismissed him again, the old man’s outward appearance faded away…

Picking up the rose, the beggar began to glow gold. Dazai and his companions look on in shock and building fear.

            …to reveal a handsome sorcerer.

All the fearful guests hurried to move away as the sorcerer floated into the air, surrounded with power and magic. Dazai fell to his knees, understanding the gravity of his current situation and regretting his previous actions.

            The prince begged for forgiveness, but it was too late, for the sorcerer had already that there was no love in his heart. As punishment, he transformed the prince into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there.

The man held the rose up and watched as Dazai’s form changed to match the twisted shape of his heart.

As days bled into years, the prince and his servants were forgotten by the world. The sorcerer had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they loved. But the rose he had offered was truly an enchanted rose. If the prince could learn to love another and earn their love in return by the time the last petal fell, the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time.

A hopeless, monstrous Dazai gazed at the emerald rose mournfully. He reached out and caressed the glass protecting it, longing for its petals to stop falling.

As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?

[mrs-gucci]

Rough Around the Edges {Prince Kylo Ren x Reader}

author’s notes: hello, hello! taking a quick break from all the fourth of july stuff to submit this piece for this week’s writer wednesday :) thanks @autumnleaves1991-blog and @clydesducktape​ for organizing this wonderful weekly event!

this story takes place in a medieval AU and is lightly inspired by certain elements in “Beauty and the Beast”.

warnings: angst with a hopeful ending. partially unreciprocated feelings. arranged courtship. time period-authentic sexism (women are meant to please men and that’s all). there’s a kiss.

(possible) tw’s: arranged relationship. implied age gap (not specified, but everyone’s above age).

word count: a touch over 2k

my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​ ​@gildedstarlight @mrs-zimmerman​ @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee​​ @pascalisfairyy​​ (if you’d like to be added to or removed from my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist.)

You sit in front of the mirror while Anna pulls your hair into a flattering updo. Your eyes begin to tear up at the painful sting of your hair being manipulated in such a forceful way, scalp throbbing with each of Anna’s harsh, calculated movements.

"Must you be so rough?”

She offers little empathy in her expression as she looks at you through the mirror’s reflection. “The Prince insisted that you wear your hair up tonight, madame. He was absolutely furious when you wore it down the last time, and I’m the one who had to stand there while he threw a tantrum over it.”

Your eyes roll, knowing all too well of your betrothed’s legendary fits of anger. He’s much too old to be doing such childish things, but god forbid you ever say that to him.

Anna finishes up with your hair, much to your relief, but now the real pain begins. You look over at the corset waiting on the bed and already, your ribcage aches.

“What, are you trying to turn it to stone?” She asks, and you shake your head. “Well, you’re certainly staring at it long enough. Come on now, stand up, we don’t have all afternoon.”

You sigh, rising up out of the chair and walking over to the bed where Anna’s standing, corset in-hand. She wraps it around your torso, pulling the laces impossibly tight over your ribs and stomach, caging them both within the garment. 

After the corset is very securely tied, Anna grabs your dress and helps you step into the golden yellow skirt. She ties the top part with just as much aggression as she tied the corset, making simply breathing a painful process.

“Try to at least look like you don’t want to jump out of the East tower’s window.” Anna remarks as you scowl at your reflection in the mirror. “Have you ever considered smiling?”

“I have absolutely nothing to smile about.” You reply curtly, unamused by this conversation or her suggestions.

She sighs in defeat. “I’m only trying to help, madame. You need to learn how to be a princess, or at least try and act the part.”

“I’m not interested in being a princess, Anna. But, if you ever asked my opinion on the matter, then you’d already know that. Now please, I wish to be alone.”

Anna’s surprised at the hostile tone of your words, but she keeps her lips pursed, knowing she’s in no place to press the issue any further. She simply nods, backing out of the room, leaving you alone.

Your bottom lip begins to tremble as your vision blurs with tears, abruptly turning away from the mirror so that you don’t have to look at what you’ve been forced to become.

There’s nothing that you wish for more than to be free from this life, free to live the way you want to live instead of the one that was chosen for you to live. You loathe the mask you must wear, the painted face that looks back at you through the mirror.

But, you have no choice...you’ve never had a choice.

-

The palace is aglow this evening, thousands of candles burning and casting a warmer shade across the normally-bland ivory color. Your shoes clink on the marble flooring as you make your way to the front steps, looking over the railing at the grand room below.

Lords and ladies, princes and princesses are all arm-in-arm, walking through to the ballroom. Some have stopped to converse with each other, fake smiles plastered on their painted faces. 

You huff to yourself as you reach the top of the staircase, and at the bottom, stands your betrothed. He looks up as you make your way down the stairs, a pleased smirk tugging at the corners of his lips with each step you take.

Kylo holds his hand out to you when you reach the bottom, guiding you down the final stair before looping his arm through yours. The two of you walk towards the ballroom, smiling and nodding politely at the other guests.

“You look nice.” His voice is flat, emotionless.

You huff in false amusement, physically having to prevent your eyes from rolling. “Am I supposed to thank you for saying that?”

"Ah, you’re learning.” He says, stopping to look down at you, fingers holding your chin and forcing you to look up at him while his eyes linger over your face. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet, little dove.”

You yank your chin from his grip, snarling softly. “Don’t touch me.”

His hand suddenly comes up to wrap around your throat, teeth bared. “I can touch you however I please, young one. You’re mine, and you ought to learn your place.”

Once he feels you relax, feels you surrender under his touch, he lets go of your neck and continues walking as if nothing’s happened, dragging you along with him.

He wears you on his arm the whole evening as he talks to various noblemen and you just stand there, silent with a small smile, pretending like you don’t exist. 

Then, the two of you take a seat at the big table with King Han and Queen Leia, beginning to feast on the royal spread. You barely eat, partially due to the fact that you’re afraid to bust the ties on your corset if your abdomen expands even a little bit too far, and Kylo seems to take notice.

“I promise I didn’t poison it.”

You look over at him with widened eyes. He simply smirks, laughing softly to himself.

“I’m only joking, little dove.”

You’re incredibly surprised, stunned into utter silence at the fact that he’s just joked with you. You'd been convinced up until this point that humor wasn’t a part of his emotional capabilities, that he was only capable of anger, hatred, and inflicting fear. 

His hand hesitantly rests on top of yours, which makes you flinch. He looks conflicted in the moment, as if he’s deciding whether or not to be upset that you react this way to his touch.

“Why aren’t you eating? You need to eat.”

You look away, jaw clenching. “I know you don’t actually care why I’m not eating, Kylo. Plus, none of my answers will be good enough to please you, anyway.”

He stiffens, pulling his hand away immediately.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the tone of his voice. He almost sounds...upset. Not upset at you, though, upset at himself. 

The rest of the time he’s silent, only glancing over at you occasionally. Dessert comes around and you don’t even touch it, simply sitting up straight with your hands in your lap.

Couples rise from their tables as the musicians begin to play an upbeat tempo, gathering on the ballroom floor. Kylo stands up next to you, holding out his hand without a word.

You rise from your chair and take his extended hand, allowing him to lead you out to the ballroom floor. Dancing was customary in Alderaan and was a very popular practice at gathering’s like this. 

Kylo’s large hands drop to your waist as soon as you reach the floor and you reach up to rest your hands on his broad shoulders. The two of you sway in unison and make your way around the dance floor skillfully, gracefully. 

After the song comes to an end and another slower one begins, the Prince tilts his head down to look at you. His face is stoic, unchanging, but there’s something different about this look. It’s not as harsh or as emotionless as it normally is; there’s a certain gentleness to it.

Your eyes keep his gaze, looking back up at him with a curious glint in your eyes, drinking in his up-close appearance for truly the first time since you’ve arrived in Alderaan. He’s intoxicatingly handsome, there’s no getting around that, but his personality and temper leave a lot to be desired.

Yet, despite his hostility and distaste for you, you still find yourself temporarily entranced by his presence, melting under his gaze. It’s in this moment that you catch a glimpse into your own psyche, recognizing the true source of your vehement hate and closed-off behavior towards him. 

All of it is done out of a desire to hide your attraction to the man that you’ve tried so, so hard to dislike. There’s always been a small part of you that’s known this, but you figured that if you pushed it down long enough and acted otherwise, perhaps you’d eventually convince yourself otherwise. But, alas, those feelings of attraction have only grown and festered beneath the facade of hatred.

It is true, Kylo Ren is a moody, closed-off, hostile and frankly childish being, but you’re somehow able to look past that and see the diamond-in-the-rough quality to the young Prince. You know that somewhere, behind the stone wall he’s so clearly built up around himself, there’s a goodness to him. You’ve seen glimpses of it throughout the time you’ve known him, but he almost immediately shuts it down instead of letting it show further, a fact you find incredibly perplexing.

“Y/N?” His voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You snap from your temporary trance and shake your head. “Sorry, I was deep in thought.”

“I gathered.” He chuckles softly. “If I asked what it is you were thinking about, would you tell me the truth?”

“Probably not.”

He nods. “I appreciate your honesty.”

The two of you continue to move around the floor before the handsome Prince clears his throat, cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink.

“May I ask you a question, completely unrelated to my previous inquiry?”

You nod, and he swallows harshly.

“What is it about me that you loathe so much?”

Your stomach drops and you suddenly feel a touch of lightheadedness begin to pressurize within your skull. You’re frozen for a moment as you try to decide whether or not to tell him the truth.

“I don’t...why are you asking me such a thing? I know you don’t actually care about the answer.”

His jaw clenches and his grip suddenly tightens on your hips. “Why do you always insist that I don’t care?”

“Because I know you don’t, Kylo. At least, not truly.” You reply, squirming beneath his grip.

“W-Well, what if...” He huffs, looking away. “What if I do care? Or am at least trying to care?”

You’re genuinely surprised by his words, taken aback for a moment. This is a turn you certainly didn’t see coming...

“I find your ever-changing moods and stubbornness often makes you difficult to deal with. You never try, at least up until this point, to understand my feelings or show any sort of interest in getting to know me, which just makes me feel even more unwanted than I already do, and I--”

Before you can continue, you’re cut off by a sudden presence on your lips. It registers in your mind, then, that he’s kissing you. You stiffen, and he pulls away slowly, eyes staring into yours.

“You are not unwanted, Y/N.” He says, voice low. “Never...p-please never think that.”

Did he just say ‘please’? That’s almost the most shocking thing he’s said thus far.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Kylo. Just...a little rough around the edges.”

His entire demeanor shifts for a moment, and for a split second, you swear he looks happy; truly, genuinely happy. Perhaps a bit of relief was sprinkled in, too. He wears a small, barely-there smile as he continues to look down at you.

“I would like to try and change. We should at least try to get along, considering the fact that we’ll be wed soon. I know you don’t want to be here, but I’d like to at least try to make things a bit easier, h-however I can.”

You can’t stop the smile that quickly spreads across your face, delightfully pleased to hear these words. Your expression widens his smile ever so slightly.

“I think we can certainly give it a try.”

Kylo nods, a subtly optimistic expression etched on his features.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

[rockislandadultreads]

Historical Romance: Book Recs for Valentines Day

Bombshell by Sarah MacLean

After years of living as London’s brightest scandal, Lady Sesily Talbot has embraced the reputation and the freedom that comes with the title. No one looks twice when she lures a gentleman into the dark gardens beyond a Mayfair ballroom…and no one realizes those trysts are not what they seem. No one, that is, but Caleb Calhoun, who has spent years trying not to notice his best friend’s beautiful, brash, brilliant sister. If you ask him, he’s been a saint about it, considering the way she looks at him…and the way she talks to him…and the way she’d felt in his arms during their one ill-advised kiss. Except someone has to keep Sesily from tumbling into trouble during her dangerous late-night escapades, and maybe close proximity is exactly what Caleb needs to get this infuriating, outrageous woman out of his system. But now Caleb is the one in trouble, because he’s fast realizing that Sesily isn’t for forgetting…she’s forever. And forever isn’t something he can risk.

Love Is Blind by Lynsay Sands

THERE’S MANY A SLIP… He’d been warned that Lady Clarissa Crambray was dangerous. Stomping on toes and burning piffles, the chestnut haired beauty was clearly a force with which to be reckoned. But for Adrian Montfort, Earl of Mowbray, veteran of the Napoleonic wars, this was just the challenge he needed. He could handle one woman and her “unfortunate past”. Could any woman handle him? ‘TWIXT THE CHIT & HIS LIPS Lady Clarissa Crambray wanted a husband, but maybe not as much as her mother wanted one for her. Really! Doffing her spectacles might make a girl prettier, but how would she see? She’d already caused enough mayhem to earn a rather horrible nickname. Yet, as all other suitors seemed to shy away in terror, there came a man to lead her to the dance floor. A dark, handsome blur of a man. Clumsy Clarissa was about to stumble onto true love.

Better Off Wed by Susanna Craig

She's an avenging angel...who tempts him like the devil... If Miss Laura Hopkins desired a husband, her beauty, brains, and fortune would make it easy to acquire one. Instead, Laura prefers to put her charms to another purpose entirely. Using the alias, Lady Sterling, Laura helps young women who have been mistreated or compromised by their employers. Some might see it as theft and blackmail. For Laura, it is a small measure of justice. But while in pursuit of her latest target, Laura is unexpectedly aided by a gentleman who announces that he is Lord Sterling. As a spy for the Crown, Captain Jeremy Addison, Viscount Sterling, has been assigned all manner of dangerous missions, though none as complicated as investigating the beguiling Lady Sterling. Forced to pose as newlyweds at the home of a disreputable earl, Laura and Jeremy forge an unexpected alliance...and a passionate connection. But can such a dangerous masquerade possibly lead to a real, lasting love?

The Wallflower Wager by Tessa Dare

They call him the Duke of Ruin. To an undaunted wallflower, he's just the beast next door. Wealthy and ruthless, Gabriel Duke clawed his way from the lowliest slums to the pinnacle of high society—and now he wants to get even. Loyal and passionate, Lady Penelope Campion never met a lost or wounded creature she wouldn’t take into her home and her heart. When her imposing—and attractive—new neighbor demands she clear out the rescued animals, Penny sets him a challenge. She will part with her precious charges, if he can find them loving homes. Done, Gabriel says. How hard can it be to find homes for a few kittens? And a two-legged dog. And a foul-mouthed parrot. And a goat, an otter, a hedgehog . . . Easier said than done, for a cold-blooded bastard who wouldn’t know a loving home from a workhouse. Soon he’s covered in cat hair, knee-deep in adorable, and bewitched by a shyly pretty spinster who defies his every attempt to resist. Now she’s set her mind and heart on saving him. Not if he ruins her first.