#debonaire is being used as a nickname for the reader

[cannibalisticcorpse]

o' debonaire, i am getting drunk while editing my fanfiction. tell me, por que hast thou so uncouth?

[lokiarsene]

I kinda want Goro's ult Persona to be something related to Arsene personally. But hey I'm biased in a way.

So I did some quick research and here are two Arsene-adjacent characters I think might inspire Akechi’s Ultimate Persona.

Rocambole.

A resourceful, clever orphan who first assists someone evil, but then rises up to kill him. He ends up imprisoned in the same labor camp mentioned in Les Miserables. A later novel has Rocambole escape later in life, where he redeems himself and becomes a full hero. Later novels portray him to be steadfast on this redemption path, where he acts a mastermind thwarting villains.

Not bad, right? But here’s one better:

Simon Templar (The Saint).

Simon Templar is a Robin Hood-like criminal known as the Saint – plausibly from his initials, but the exact reason for his nickname is unknown (although the reader is told that he was given it at the age of nineteen). Templar has aliases, often using the initials S.T. such as “Sebastian Tombs” or “Sugarman Treacle”. Blessed with boyish humour, he makes humorous and off-putting remarks and leaves a “calling card” at his “crimes,” a stick figure of a man with a halo over his head. This is used as the logo of the books, the movies, and the 1960s TV series. He is described as “a buccaneer in the suits of Savile Row, amused, cool, debonair, with hell-for-leather blue eyes and a saintly smile”.

[…] Templar’s targets include corrupt politicians, warmongers, and other low life. “He claims he’s a Robin Hood,” says one victim, “but to me he’s just a robber and a hood.”[2] Robin Hood appears to be one inspiration for the character; Templar stories were often promoted as featuring “The Robin Hood of modern crime,” and this phrase to describe Templar appears in several stories.

:)

This also kinda fits in a meta way, because all of the Persona you fuse through the Justice Arcana are angels.

Do you know how freakin’ neato it’d be if the counterpoint to Ren’s Ultimate Persona being a fallen angel is having Akechi’s Ultimate Persona be a self-appointed saint?

[omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts]

Not My Type (1940′s Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Summary: Set in the 1940′s, recently you’ve become goof friends with Steve Rogers, a small fellow with a big brain and an even bigger heart. Your friendship with him leads you to spark a meeting with the infamous and suave ladies’ man, James Buchanan Barnes, Steve’s childhood best friend who instantly takes a liking to you.

Author’s Note: Okay so I have a lot in store before the summer ends, I’m going on vacation so I have some time to write and I CANNOT BE HAPPIER! And i did a faceclaim because she just fits what’s in my head so perfectly but you DON’T HAVE TO USE HER IT IS ENTIRELY UP TO YOU! (Rachel McAdams) And now I’m in a fluffy mood so I decided to write a cute 1940′s Bucky Barnes imagine, and it’s really short, if you guys enjoy it let me know if you want another part, perhaps with modern day Bucky? Years later? *le gasp!* ;) how would she possibly be alive??

Paper Doll by the Mills Brothers, look at the lyrics, they fit this fic PERFECTLY

Warnings: just a lot of fluff really, so much, mild swearing

“Steve!” you wave your hand high in the air, over the bustling crowd of Stark fangirls and curious onlookers alike, people from all over to see the future and as usual, little Steve Rogers right in the middle of it.

He peeks up over the heads of people and smiles widely at you, waving you over to him. You weave through the people, excusing yourself when you bump shoulders with one of the men dressed in a soldier’s uniform, he sends you a toothy grin, fixing to start a conversation with you, but you move past him. You noticed the many girls draped on his arms already, call you a hopeless romantic, but you want someone who will prioritize you and you alone, not to be one of many.

You reach him and wrap your arms around him in a warm embrace, kissing his cheek, “I’ve missed you, big guy.”

“Funny,” he smiles up at you, amused by the nickname and he looks over your waist-cinched, scarlet red and white polka dot dress sheepishly, blushing hard when you catch him looking. “You look beautiful, (y/n).”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Rogers,” you grin at your friend. 

He lets out a small, soft laugh, looking up at you, “Bucky put me in this,” he adjusts his navy blue bow tie and flushes at the compliment.

“Well, I think you look nice,” you reach down and fix the tie that he’s messed up, putting it back in place as you share a sweet smile with your good friend. “Who is this Bucky I’ve heard so much about, anyway? You’re always gabbing on about him when we get together.”

“A childhood friend of mine, he’s a swell guy, you’ll like him,” he smiles weakly. “All the girls do anyway.”

“I’m sure there are dozens of girls lining up for a chance to be with a guy like you, too, Steve,” you assure him with a dazzling smile, crimson red lips curling towards the edges, dimples on display.

“I don’t know about that,” he shakes his head. “But I appreciate the thought, (y/n).”

“Will this Bucky be here today? I’d like to meet the man who dresses you so well,” you pat Steve’s chest.

“Why, thank you, doll,” a smooth, dangerous voice says behind you, you turn to the owner of it and are met with a pair of striking blue eyes and a pink lipped smirk, a man adorned in a sergeant’s uniform and a tilted officer’s hat. With a sharp jaw, strong chin, a dashing smile, and a strong, soldier’s build, Steve was right about the ladies loving him as you notice the beautiful women by him, taking in his every word and waving at you, completely ignoring Steve.

“You must be Bucky,” you look him over, sending him a polite, inviting smile. “I’m (y/n).”

“I know who you are,” he flashes you a debonair smile and expects you to go immediately weak in the knees, putty in his hands, but you stay upright, returning his smile quickly and hesitantly. “Steve’s told me a lot about you and I must say, you’re even more stunning in person.”

“Thank you,” you say and his eyes linger on your body in certain places, fitted skirt, ample chest pushed up by two straps tied behind your neck, short and curled (y/h/c) hair, and alluring (y/e/c) eyes, seeing right through his player act. You don’t fall so easily. “But if you’re thinking about getting me into bed with you, you’re going to have to do better than complimenting my attire.”

The girls beside him are wide eyed and look rather amused and entertained by your blatant disregard for his flirtations. What you don’t know is that this only makes the pull towards you stronger, and his immediate infatuation with you is nothing short of deadly.

He looks at you with complete adoration when he smiles your way, “Who says I want to get into bed with you? I was thinking dinner first, but if you insist-”

You force a smile, “That’s too bad because Steve and I have already planned on spending the evening together, perhaps you can take these lovely ladies with you instead and save yourself the trouble,” you look down at Steve. “Right, Rogers?”

Steve turns all shades of red, stumbling over his words, “Uh- well, I’m um... we could all go... maybe-”

You glare at Steve for having the idea, stopping him mid-sentence with your narrowed eyes, and frown at the smugness on Bucky’s annoyingly handsome face.

“I’d be happy to join you,” Bucky steps closer to you, the girls following behind with pouted, glossy lips.

“But James... you said we were gonna go dancing,” the brunette one with Bambi eyes and rosebud lips complains to him, hooking her arm around his muscular one.

“Maybe later, okay?” he sends her a smile that shuts her up instantly, placing a quick kiss on her cheek that makes her face flush and become rosy, the blonde one sharing a giggle with her smitten friend.

You roll your eyes and walk ahead with Steve, holding his hand to help him through the crowd. There have been too many times where people don’t see him, bless his heart, and just about trample the poor boy.

“I don’t think I like this... childhood friend of yours, Rogers, he seems to think very highly of himself,” you frown, shaking your head, and getting to the front of the audience as you watch Howard Stark of Stark Industries powering a flying car.

You’ve never seen anything like it, until it hits the stage with a loud bang and breaks down, no longer in the air. He plays it off coolly and everyone in the audience laughs it off, wrapped around his wealthy, conceited finger.

“He’s really a nice guy if you get to know him, I think you might be being a little hard on him,” he looks at you, softening his voice so he can avoid making you angry or defensive.

You scoff, “I am not, he’s... he’s just- a womanizer! Instead of properly introducing himself, he decided he wanted his first impression was going to be him flirting with me.”

“Aw, dollface, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Bucky says in your ear behind you, but you don’t startle, and instead turn slightly to look at him over your shoulder. “I only think that beauty demands to be recognized.”

“How chivalrous,” you hum, folding your arms over your chest and pursing your plush, ruby lips.

“Don’t swoon so easily, doll, I don’t want to have to catch you if you fall for me,” he smirks.

“It’s bold of you to assume that I will swoon over a guy like you,” you lick your lips as you pause in thought. “If that were the case, we’d be having an entirely different conversation,” you make a point to look him over suggestively, mocking his own glances at your body.

He smiles at the thought, humoring you, gaze being busy locked on you, “What is a guy like me?”

“A guy that thinks he’s better than everyone else and is too damned fixed in his ways to see otherwise. A guy that thinks just because he has a pretty face and wears a uniform that he can get anyone and whatever he wants,” you quip and his smirk grows.

He lets out a sharp laugh, “Oh, doll, you’ve got me all wrong.”

“Please, enlighten me,” you say flatly.

“There’s only one thing I’m after at the moment.”

“And what’s that?”

“You, doll.”

You chuckle, turning away from him to hide the rosiness rising to your cheeks. “How cliche.”

He grins, “A little cliche is always good.”

“Okay then, let me rephrase it,” you finally meet his eyes and he raises an eyebrow in question. “How unoriginal.”

“Have you been told that line before?” he asks you.

“Oh, many times,” you shrug your shoulders, laughing quietly. “But I give you props for attempting to try, points for effort even if they won’t do you much good.”

“Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, only loud enough for you to hear him above the crowd. “Then I really would have scored, a dame like you deserves to be treated like a princess.”

You roll your eyes but a smile graces your lips, “And you think you’re capable of that? What about the two ladies on your arm right now? Did you forget about them?” you say, looking beside him to see the girls have already gone. Damn.

“They went on, said I was too busy looking at you instead of being a good date to them.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet?”

“I’d like to think so, yes,” he smiles, tilting his head innocently.

“I appreciate the flattery and your offer, playboy, I really do. But seriously,” you look him in his royal blue eyes, finding yourself lost in them despite Steve beside you as your anchor. He watches the banter between you two and silently curses himself for bringing him along, another one of his friends falling for the likes of the suave Bucky Barnes.

But you, of course, know better than that.

“You’re just not my type,” you shrug your shoulder, smiling sweetly.

“What is your type?” he asks with a small smile.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Why don’t we continue this playful arguing over a drink? Maybe you’d enjoy my company a lot more with alcohol in your system,” he teases and you crack a smile.

“I don’t drink,” you reply quickly. “So why would I do that?”

“Because despite your disinterest in me, you want to know more about me.”

“Yes, know more of why you weren’t taught any manners by your mother,” you tease back. “Or maybe you were and decided not to listen.”

“I know manners, you just haven’t gotten the chance to see them yet,” he says, holding his arm out for you. “I’ll tell you all about my tragic origin story at the bar down the street, doll,” he steps beside you, turning in your direction. “What do you say?”

“I’d say no, but something tells me you don’t take no for an answer.”

“You’d think right.”

“So, that’s your plan?” you turn to him, furrowing your brow, and taking a step closer to him, people bustling around you while Steve is preoccupied with his candied almonds to pay any attention to the two of you anymore.

“Badger me enough until I finally agree to let you take me out, what’s your gain? Why me?”

He pulls his arm back when you ignore the gesture, leaning towards you, “Because not only are you the most gorgeous dame I’ve ever laid eyes on, you’re also witty as hell and can hold your own in a conversation. That’s rare to find these days.”

You search his face for a second, mulling over whether going with him will be worth it, if you’ll regret going out with him. But you only find sincerity and curiosity to get to know you in his eyes, worshiping every inch of you and the ground you walk on even after only minutes of knowing you.

“You have half an hour,” you sigh and he beams then you turn to Steve. “I’m sorry to leave you here, but I need to talk to him, maybe it’ll get him off my back,” you break into a grin.

“I don’t know, (y/n),” he looks at the way Bucky is watching your every move. “He seems pretty enamored with you. I’ve never seen him like this, getting him to leave you alone might not be so easy,” he says, rather amused by the situation.

“I’m sure you have,” you laugh, patting his shoulder. “Do you need a ride home first? I can make him wait.”

“No, it’s alright, I’ll walk,” he nods, smiling softly. “I could use the exercise.”

“You really don’t,” Bucky laughs, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and gripping his arm. “What you really could use is a goddamn sandwich.”

“And you should lay off them, my friend,” Steve retorts, patting Buck’s stomach then he has Steve in a playful headlock, ruffling up his styled hair. 

You roll your eyes and bite your lip as your lips edge into a smile at the display, looking to your friend, “Is this guy bothering you? Do I have to take care of him?”

“You can take care of me anytime, dollface,” Bucky winks at you.

You chuckle, “Alright, alright, get going, your time’s running out,” you push him in the direction of the door, earning a cheeky smile from him as he walks ahead while you look at Steve questioningly. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? I swear, I won’t go if you’re-”

“No, no,” he cuts you off with a gentle smile. “Go have fun, I... I gotta hot date anyway.”

You smile at his joke, “Really? Maybe I can meet her someday, see if she’s good enough for you.”

“You would do that?” he grins sweetly.

“I would, but actually... there’s no need,” you start walking away before saying, “No one will ever be good enough for you, Steve Rogers.”

~~~

“You’re ridiculous, Barnes,” you cut your eyes in his direction, sipping on your cherry coke with a squeeze of lime.

“How?” he grins, taking a drink of his Shirley Temple with a splash of rum, subconsciously scooting closer to you in his bar stool. “I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

“Well, when you found out, did you stop seeing her?” your lips curl.

He smirks, “...No.”

“Then I’d say you deserved that ass kicking,” you smile over the rim of your glass and lock eyes with him, coyly breaking eye contact when he meets your gaze, leading him on until he’s wrapped around your manicured finger.

“And I’d say he deserved to get his ass kicked back,” he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and you laugh.

You look at him for a moment, a comfortable pause in the conversation as couple and friends in the bar become white noise outside the two of you. “You’ve got me here now, James, what are you going to do with me?”

“I can’t do that here,” he smirks, innuendos in his tone and a playful glint in his eyes that’s surprisingly warm and soft when he looks at you.

You force a smile, “Charming,” you say, shaking your head, and turning away from him. 

He takes his hat off and runs a hand through his dark brown hair, capturing his pink bottom lip between his teeth, “I’m sorry, that was... that was inappropriate of me,” he says, timid all of a sudden. “If I’m being honest, I’ve never been this nervous around a girl before. This has never happened... I’m usually pretty good at this,” he smiles sheepishly, a rosy color dusting over his cheeks.

You smile genuinely towards him for the first time tonight, watching as the sweet guy Steve was telling you about begins to shine through, his childhood best friend. It scares you, really, the immediate ache in your chest at the way he’s smiling and looking at you. That’s when you realize how far, hard, and fast you’ve fallen. Even if you told yourself you wouldn’t. 

Then you sigh, giving into his temptation, and scooting your stool closer to him, watching his face redden at the close proximity between you two now. You rest your chin in your hand, propping your elbow up on the bar, and say with an affectionate, tender smile, “You don’t have to be nervous around me, Buck. I’m no different from the other girls you talk to.”

He shakes his head, “That’s the thing, doll, you are different... And I’ve never dealt with different before.”

You reach for his hat on the table and pull it on your head, over your curls and adjust it so it lets a few tendrils hang by your eyes. Bucky watches you wear it beautifully, sending him a radiant smile that gets his heart to stop beating when you ask, “Good different or bad different?”

He cracks a small smile, tucking a hanging strand of your hair behind your ear, finger lingering on your cheek before shyly pulling away, “Good... definitely- definitely good.”

You share a fleeting look with him, blushing hard when you look down at your laced fingers in your lap, biting back a full blown grin, meeting his eyes again to catch him already looking at you, “Well, that’s... that’s good to hear, must mean I’m doing something right, huh?”

You send a wink in his direction before grabbing your purse off the counter and hop off your seat, grabbing your handbag and slapping a five dollar bill on the far for the bartender, turning to Bucky with a demure smile, “Walk me home?”

He nods quickly, scrambling after you as you effortlessly sashay through the crowd of people by the doors, running ahead to hold the door open for you.

“I could have paid, you know, I asked you out. It would have been the least I could do,” he gulps audibly when you brush your body past him.

“No need, I had the money, and this way...” you look back at him, signalling with a curl of your finger for him to catch up to you. “We can call it even.”

“Call what even?” he asks after he gets back to your side, gently taking your purse and carrying it for you while you answer his question.

You sigh wistfully, “You’re a good friend to Steve, and sadly, those come in short supply for him, what with being ridiculed for his size and all. It’s not fair, yes, but guys like you, looking out for him like that? It means the world to him. So it means the world to me, too.”

He laughs dismissively, “He doesn’t need me, really, if anything...” he looks ahead. “Well, I need him.” Then he looks back at you, pinching his brow and pouting his lip inquisitively, “And I thought you said guys like me are only out for themselves?” he asks you, smug when he uses his own words against you. “What caused the change of heart?

“I was... I was wrong,” you admit reluctantly. “And I do apologize for being critical of you, you didn’t deserve that. I may come off as cold sometimes, but I don’t mean to be. It’s usually when I’m defending Steve, he’s got too big of a heart to stick up for himself, or tell a guy off even when they deserve it. After awhile of being the voice for somebody else, you become a bit stronger yourself, defending the people that need it most. Even when the situation should be left alone.”

He looks at you thoughtfully, seeing in this moment why Steve likes you so much, why he values you, and wants you in his life. Because you, too, have a big heart, just like Rogers, Bucky sees that and that’s why he’s drawn to you, your magnetism, confidence, strength and character, beauty, and wits. He’s never met a girl like you before.

You stop walking in front of your brick and stone apartment building, turning around to send Bucky a hesitant smile, not wanting the eventful night to end, despite your best efforts, “This is where I live.”

He clears his throat and shuffles his feet, kicking at a fragment of gravel on the sidewalk, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “So this is where it ends?”

“It doesn’t have to,” you say and he looks up. “I know you’ll find a way to find me. If not in this lifetime, perhaps in the next.”

His dimples make an appearance and he takes a step towards you, towering over you, something you’re not used to in a friend. “Hopefully it’ll be sooner than that. I don’t know if I could get you out of my head if I tried.”

“Who says I can’t stay in there?” you ask, slipping his hat off and holding it out to him. “Think about me all you want, it might be as far as you’ll ever get with me,” you tease him.

He smirks, “Keep the hat, doll, it suits you.”

“Don’t you need it?” you ask with a soft laugh.

“I can get another,” he says. “Besides, it’s a way for you to remember me by when I get shipped out. You’ll know everyday when you look at it, there’s someone out on enemy lines fighting for you.”

You smile and put the hat back on lopsided, “Just...” you pause, looking up at him. “Just promise me you’ll come home. You still haven’t taken me on that grand date yet. Who else is gonna treat me like a princess?”

“I’d hate to disappoint you, doll,” he smiles, voice coming out sad and forlorn when he realizes he’ll be away for so long after only just meeting you. “I promise I’ll come home. And you’ll get that date.”

“I’m holding you to that, Bucky Barnes,” you say, getting up on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

Then he moves before you can pull away, capturing your lips in his while you’re caught off guard by the sudden movement, kissing you hard on the mouth just as he’s been wanting to do all night, dipping you with a hand wrapped around your back. You wrap an arm around his neck to steady yourself when he spins you back up, pulling away after only a second and not giving you time to process what had happened. You blink rapidly, chest heaving as you take back your purse from around his arm, unable to wipe the cheek-burning smile off your face.

“What?” he asks innocently, sending you the last smile you’ll ever see of his. In this lifetime, anyway. “I needed something to hold onto when I’m fighting the Nazis for you.”

“For your country, you mean,” you correct him.

“No,” he shakes his head. “For you, doll,” and with that James Buchanan Barnes walks off into the night, whistling the tune that played on the bar’s jukebox, the song you picked out when you first got there. Paper Doll by the Mills Brothers.

“I lied!” you yell after him at your apartment’s doorstep and he turns around at the end of the sidewalk, waiting for a cab.

“About what, doll?” he asks.

“That you’re not my type,” you grin and it lights up the entire night sky, putting the moon and all the stars to shame. 

“A guy like me?” he repeats your words from earlier.

You shake your head with a laugh, opening your door and stepping inside. “A guy like him,” you whisper to yourself, giddy well into your dreams.

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Be My Soulmate- Lumière x Reader

Pairing: Lumière (Beauty and the Beast) X Reader

Request: None I’m shameless

Word Count: 1,506

AU: Soulmate AU- When you meet your soulmate, the first words you say to them are tattooed (painlessly) somewhere on your body (called a Mark).

Warnings: I don’t believe there are any, but message me if I am wrong

(F/c) means favorite color

(Y/n) means your name

“Plumette, I need your help over here,” you say to your close friend as you sit at the large vanity in the room you shared with your closest friend. After the castle was cursed and you were both turned into feather dusters, because you were both maids, you decided to share a room and simply have not switched back to seperate ones yet. She quickly made her way across the room to you from her former position in front of the closet, trying to sort out which dresses were hers and which belonged to you.

“What are you having trouble with, Y/n?” Asked Plumette.

“You know that beautiful (f/c) dress I bought before the curse took hold of the castle?” You asked, receiving from Plumette a nod in response. “Well, I was planning on wearing that tonight.”

“I am not seeing the problem,” Plumette said, “you look absolutely beautiful in that dress. I’m sure a certain former-candle would say the same.” She finished with a teasing smile.

“Candelabra,” you correct, playfully swatting at her arm. “But let me finish. The problem is that I wanted to put my hair up, but thanks to my level of talent in the hairstyling field, I would need a million more hands to accomplish it. Could you help me?”

At you words, Plumette smiled and her eyes lit up. She loved to style other peoples’ hair, especially after the curse as she had been unable to do so for so long. She quickly got to work, twisting and pinning your hair up, carefully hiding the pins within the hair. Everything was going smoothly, until she suddenly froze behind you when she was nearly finished with your hair.

“What is it Plume?” You asked, using a nickname you knew she disliked. Plumette didn’t even seem to notice, as she stayed frozen.

“Y/n, how did you and Lumière meet?” She asked, slowly beginning to finish the updo.

“I’ve told you before, but alright. I had been trying to find you in the castle a few days after the enchantress laid the curse upon the castle. When I began looking around in the kitchen however, I was still not used to my new wings so I began to falter and fall. I thought I was going to hit the ground and possibly splinter into a billion pieces, but then I heard a voice from below exclaim, ‘I’ve got you mademoiselle’ and the next thing I know I am looking up at a golden, literally golden, humanoid face with a candle on top of his head. He was my hero.” You explained, sighing as you remembered the day. Even now, remembering it made you blush. Not to mention it reminded you of your feelings for Lumière.

“Did you happen to respond with, ‘well, this is awkward?” Asked Plumette as she finished pulling your hair up elegantly. You thought that you could detect a hint of a smirk in her tone, but you brushed it off as nothing.

“Yes,” you say in confusion, “but how do you know that?”

“Because it is written across the back of your neck, Y/n. Rather elegantly, might I add.”

At Plumette’s words you froze in your chair. You were shocked into silence. All of this time you had thought that you merely harbored a crush for Lumière.

“Y/n,” said Plumette, bringing you back to reality from the realm of your mind, “you do know what this means, I assume.”

“Yes,” you whisper. “Lumière is my soulmate.” Your long hair had prevented you from seeing the Mark before, not to mention the fact that it was a place you could only see if you rigged up a couple of mirrors. It must have appeared after the curse was lifted, the curse blocking it from appearing immediately.

“Do you think that Lumière already knows?” Questioned Plumette.

“He must already know.” You respond. “There is no way that both of us would somehow miss our Marks.”

But if he does know already, why hasn’t he said anything to me already?

Before you could overthink the situation further, Plumette came in as the voice of reason.

“I’m sure that he has a reason for not saying anything, if he has even already seen the Mark, that is.” She says, calming you down a bit before you could spiral into a frenzy.

You then quickly got dressed into your (f/c) ballgown, with the help of Plumette of course, and made your way down to the ballroom where one of Prince Adam’s new regular dances was to be held tonight. Plumette quickly found a partner to dance with when you entered the room. You were sure that someday her soulmate will have the words “would you like to dance?” somewhere on their body, the way that dances seemed to go for her.

“You look very beautiful tonight, mademoiselle.” Came a familiar voice from behind you.

“Bonsoir (Good evening) Lumière.” You said, turning to the handsome man beside you. He truly did look nice tonight, as he was dressed elegantly yet was still able to show off his masculinity. “You look very handsome tonight, monsieur.” You tell Lumière, mirroring his compliment to you earlier. You smiled at him, which he quickly returned.

“Would you care to dance with me, Y/n?” Asked Lumière with his signature dashing, debonair smile. You smiled wider, taking the arm that he extended to you and allowing him to lead you to the dance floor. You surprised yourself, dancing as elegantly as you had before the curse had been laid upon the castle and all within. You had expected yourself to be more rusty and embarrass yourself after all the time spent not being able to dance properly, but the universe was working in your favor tonight. The two of you spun gracefully around the room, and looking up into Lumière’s eyes you felt as if you were the only two people in the world that night. You took a deep breath as the song ended.

“Lumière, could I talk to you for a moment?” You asked the male, “alone?”

Lumière looked at you suspiciously, but nodded and offered his arm to you again. You took it, and he led you off of the dance floor and away from the crowd. After walking for a few minutes the two of you ended up in a hallway far away from all of the people coming to dance at the castle.

“What were you wanting to talk to e about, mon ange (My angel)?” Asked Lumière, making you blush at the pet name he called you.

“I just wanted to tell you that, uhm...” You began, trailing off as you lost your nerve. You realized the weight of what you were about to say, what you were about to reveal. What if he hadn’t said anything because he didn’t get a mark?

“Y/n, are you alright?” Asked Lumière, his eyes filled with concern as he grabbed one of your hands in his own, sending a wave of electricity to flow up your arm.

“Yes,” you responded, never wanting him to let go. “It’s just that...” You paused to gather your courage, “ I found my Mark earlier today, before the ball. Lumière, you are my soulmate.” For a moment it was silent, and you had feared that you had made the wrong move. Then Lumière’s face erupted into a dashing smile again.

“Oh Y/n, I was so afraid that there had been a mistake in the system for the past couple of days. I knew that I had a Mark, and that I was meant for you, but you didn’t seem to have one for me. You have no idea how happy I am right now,” said Lumière, lifting up his shirt sleeve to reveal the words, ‘I’ve got you mademoiselle’ on his arm. “Where is your Mark?”

“On the back of my neck,” you said with a giggle. 

Lumière laughed along with you, “well no wonder you missed it. Do you mind if I see it?”

You turned around so that he could see, nodding in a response to his question as you did so. Lumière reached toward you, his fingertips grazing your neck, tracing the phrase. The feeling sent a shiver up your spine and electricity throughout your entire body. He grabbed you by the waist, spinning you to face him again.

“I love you, mon ange.” He said sincerely, gazing down into your eyes. He left his hands around your waist, and you never wanted him to move them. You gazed back up into his eyes, smiling.

“I love you too Lumière.” And with that, his lips crashed down to meet yours. Or at least, that is what his plan had been. The two of you bumped noses, causes laughter to erupt from the both of you. You met him halfway this time, pecking him on the lips. The two of you were infinitely happy, it was as if life was a fairytale.

                                                       The End