#enemy countries

[stylezxsilvermoon]

the secret charm: chapter one: the reckoning

❝tonight we'll stand, get off our knees, fight for what we've worked for all these years, and the battle was long, it's the fight of our lives but we'll stand up champions tonight.❞

(pre story note: while reading, please enjoy the song put at each chapter, i specifically pick them to help visualize scenes + aesthetics' of the book for you, the readers, if you choose to, please listen!)

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

CHAPTER ONE: THE RECKONING

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

WORD COUNT: 3349K

Louis

A single key was played in the chorus of disaster, a final note was written in the crescendo of chaos.

The orchestrator was one unknown to me, but eerily spectral... in an almost ethereal way. Quite abruptly, my interest was piqued. Captivated like it was the brightest star on a dark twilight night, but stars don't shine because of their beauty, nor their worth. But because they're burning into an everlasting oblivion. And in their wake, they leave unfathomable scattered chaos across all the lands, covering all in their blazing stardust.... hopelessly enthralled in the flaming, fallacious star.

The smell of champagne and rich perfume clogged my senses to my dismay. I disliked the royal life although I was born into it and had lived this way all this time. My better judgement had trusted my inner conscience to never fall into the wicked grasps of the crisp dangers of hierarchy. But I knew all too well, I'd be surrounded, suffered in the darkness of high expectations. It was charging towards me like a typhoon of madness, all surrounded in a high standard ticket to everlasting stardom.

I sighed and stared at the unfamiliar world I was soon to be thrown into, as the limousine drove us into descending chaos, the only place in the world I would ever be hated most... even to my worst nightmares. Ethelle, the capitol city of Elles. Although, the hillsides were gorgeous and lush with people with lined pockets, and guarded hearts. There was no doubt their gazes were fierce and filled with venom at the presence of their ultimate rival on their land. I looked to my mother in protest as to why we were here... after all we were treading on enemy soil, and I'd longed to be anywhere but here. Even back at the castle, I remarked sarcastically to myself as I stared into the blinding light of the midday sun. The warmth was comforting in its own way, contrasting perfectly with the falling multicolor leaves of an early September day.

I had read about this place in books growing up as a small lad, this place, amongst the chaos and the intertwined past of this kingdom and mine, it was almost as if I knew it all. Ethelle was the heart of the country that had caused chaos and turmoil in my homeland of Lorxix, in a great war when both of the kingdoms were only in the beginning of forming their dynasties... in the early years. Before I was born, for certain. But shortly after I discovered the tangled and mysterious past of both of the kingdoms... and it was more than deadly, morbid I would describe.

The Styles are the rulers of Elles, a land of secrets, untied endings and lavish lives lived out with no sort of meaning or purpose...only for show, for an audience of empty eyes. Long ago, they had attacked my kingdom out of a fear of infidelity ad treason amongst the walls of their own kingdom...accusingly of my own blood. My own father, King Adrien Sky Tomlinson fell victim to King Edward and they both suffered the cruel fate of both of our kingdom's mistakes. Until now, I'd wanted nothing to do with the kingdom that left my own in shambles. But now I fear it's time to change the course of the future, and to make sure the past doesn't repeat itself.

Suddenly, the vessel carrying me to my doom stopped in front of the steps of a building with an exterior that looked as if it could have been carved out of stone by the gods themselves. My blue eyes scanned the beige building for a name as my eyes landed on it, a large, lettered sign with golden letters reading "ETHELLE CHARM SCHOOL" to my dismay as my mother looked at me mischievously.

"Mother..." I spoke with caution laced between my teeth as she gestures to the school grandly as I sigh and lean back in my seat in annoyance. To my dismay, my mother had informed me I'd be enrolled in the school for royals... in the land of our enemies for centuries before, it was almost treason in my eyes, quite literally being beside your enemy, and living amongst them! How could someone do such a thing? I supposed I would have to find out quite soon. Regardless of it all, my mother was set on defying the things that separate us as a society, therefore we must come together. Who knows, maybe I'll make some allies and friends for the future of my country while I'm captivated by the unfamiliar auras of a new future.

Or maybe, I'll compete in the greatest duel between the Styles and the Tomlinson's since the great war, whichever event would play out, I was more than ready to take it on. Perhaps, a new dawn will rule over us and peace will prosper. Otherwise... a great evil will spread throughout the lands once I'm crowned King, and to whomever is the Styles' heir to the throne will be doomed to my merciless wrath.

Somehow, someway she was dead set on correcting the errors 'our fathers before' had so wrongly decided upon with the great war against with the Styles' legacy. Peaceful in her nature and roughish in mine, I sought revenge. Quite frankly I'd like to think that'd never end, as long as my sword is as sharp as my wits it will be. Whether the both of us agreed or not both kingdoms had striking similarities, ones that tore them apart... or unconventionally could bring them together.

The Styles' and the Tomlinson's are both elites, strong warriors and cutthroat with a passion of blazing a trail for the destinies set before us. However, what separated me from my father before me was the halting of the centuries of repeated circumstances, I was committed to breaking the vicious cycle. The Styles were of a fickle breed, poisonously charming to a fault. Never letting any opportunity for betrayal slip through their fingers. Always, up for a challenge no matter how deadly. My father's mistake was questioning the all-powerful authority of a mourning mad man of love. Whom was already half gone and half damned, seeing that through the illusions of a fallen bond... bloodshed was the only call to the void.

Killing my father with his words and his sword, once allies... but no longer. Almost damned to say the bonds that connected them were ever true and sturdy in the first place. They were one for lying, two for extreme moral destitutions. And those damned green eyes resembling a vipers splint ones, spited and venomous, charmed and fraudulent.

So, in a turn of peaceful solidarity I'd be the first of the Tomlinson's to try to make amends with the Styles, no matter how much bitter resentment would try to drive us apart, I vowed to do it for my mother and my late father, if not myself. Or, no matter how much I wanted to slash the throat of the nearest Styles heir at point blank range.

"Louis my honey, it'll be good for you, after all a good King needs allies, and you can learn a thing or two here... perhaps meet a princess to make your Queen?" My mother suggested as I shrugged my arms hesitantly. I wasn't all that sure about my stay at Ethelle in the first place, so I'd rather take one thing at a time, I sighed in a conclusion that my fate had been sealed.

With the wordless rebuttal of my rebellious ways no longer up for debate, my personal assistants quickly piled out of the car to help me with all of my baggage. I gasped in the realization that my mother had already packed my bags, as if she wanted to send me away to an enemy institution so soon! Though, perhaps I was being too dramatic, to my curiosity I oddly wanted to know more about the seemingly quaint town of Ethelle and the school that resides in it.

To my shock, a young royal... judging by their crown, emerged from the school's grand and gleaming double doors peering directly at me with curiosity of multitudes and an unexplainable bout of mischief upon them. It was a young lad about my age, with brown wavy hair and striking green eyes with a certain allure to them. It almost looked as if they could promise you your wildest dreams, faintest fantasy, or cruelest nightmare, something told me that I would have to decide for myself...soon. My eyes scattered for a place to look to the boy's eyes were kept on me, opening me up and disregarding my weapons, leaving me completely defenseless.

Once he got close enough, his pearly white skin (at least if my eyes weren't deceiving me) shone, gleamed, sparkled, and shimmered in the fall sunlight as leaves crunched beneath his expensive shoes. His cherry-blossom lips parted slightly as words slipped from his mouth as his Ethellic accent shone through his words like a bursting ray of moonlight on a somber night.

"Hello...... mate," his words hit like a raging storm. "You must be... Prince Louis Tomlinson of Lorxix, I'm Prince Harry Styles from Elles... as you may know. I'm here to show you around the school this year, don't worry you'll fit in just fine." He smiled with an almost faux tone as he read my name from a card he was holding in his tattooed hand.

As he bowed before me and kissed my hand, my entire body nearly seized at his gesture. An entire ghostly chill snaked its way down my spine. How could a murderer's son be this deceiving in his own right?! He must have thought he were playing me for a fool like a grand piano in his own grand solo. My, my, my, he will be sorely mistaken when he discovers I am no fool to his dreamlike aura attempting to cloud my previous pretenses for him! As if he could wash it all away with quick looks and flashy charismatic moves...so he thought.

With a broad smirk on my face hidden behind my grumpy 'woe is me' exterior, I looked at him as he motioned me into the school as my servants went through a back entrance. Supposed to wherever the luggage is placed of the royals at this school, not making it any less suspicious, though. Of course, he was a Styles I scoffed, the minute I step foot on his soil he's already immersing my presence with faux affection and loaded laughs.

A new moment, my face flips, contorts and changes as he meets my eyes, flopping like a fish and desperate to cover up the thoughts that were so obvious onto my face. I sigh, perhaps nothing would change in result of my stay here... I admitted halfheartedly, and a bit gloomfully. I gazed at him critically as my eyes shot daggers while they retained their aura of innocence. No doubt I would determine his true demeanor long enough, he was a Styles, they all begin to show their true colors soon enough. I looked into Harry's ivy green eyes as they surrounded me with a warm suffocating gaze as he tried to comfort me with a hint of curiosity in his mind that was splayed across his face. I looked behind me to the limo that my mother and I had rode in here, as my past disappeared with it.

My eyes slowly examined inside of the double doors as strange men in white suits with golden accents on said suits opened the doors for us, shocked at my presence. All of a sudden, what I saw next completely took my breath away. The school was adorned with cavernous hallways at every corner, and lux decorations gracing the grand hall... trophy cases graced the walls as each plaque had names on them, ones I did not know, but I figured I would soon enough. Harry marveled at my reaction to the school as he daringly put his hand on my shoulder, breathing with me as if he had seen it for the first time, which I doubted he had since he resides in this city, so what was with the sudden gesture?

"If you must know," Harry started formally "Ethelle school is a historical school at best, very hard to get into. I'm legitimately surprised they let someone of your stature into the establishment. I suppose my mother wanted to give you a fighting chance at redemption." Harry spoke into my ear as I quickly pulled away from his hold as he laughed at my reflex as my hand ghosted over the shape of my sword in its sheath.

"And don't be afraid Louis, I am simply an old friend in some sort, am I not?" he smirks at the way I flinched away from his touch. As if he had mistaken it for fear instead of a grimace or disgust, as if I would tremble in his presence, shiver in his touch, he was in for a surprise I bet.

His eyes widen for a split second, before shifting to that same 'holier than thou' glint and lustrous-like look as if he wanted to eat me alive, and most likely not because he found me appealing...but the idea, however...

"So, you carry weapons on the regular hm? Should expect that from a Tomlinson," Harry started, inching his pompous attitude way over the line that I could manage, and I'd just only stepped into the door, I pinched the bridge between my nose in annoyance as I edged my sword out of its sheath out of pure spite. "Don't you dare reveal your sword to the light or I'll unarm you right here where you stand, trust in that Louis." Harry hissed into my ear as I held my hands up in defeat, rolling my eyes in the process.

"Hand it over..." Harry commanded, his fingers pointing towards himself as he pushed me to hand over my sword as I looked to him with bewilderment. As if I would give up my sword to the enemy after he'd just made a threat on my life seconds before? I scoffed as I walked away from him into a stray hallway carelessly, unknowing and uncaring of where I was going, anywhere away from the prince of pompous. I sneered at my own remark, I smirked mischievously at my new discovery, the dorm hall.

"You can't wander off like that Louis, this place is quite large. But oh, look you've found the dorms... I can only wonder who you'll be rooming with this year, God forbid it'd be me, or your head be chopped clean off before the first weeks end!" Harry exclaimed jokingly, his loud laugh booming throughout the hall, but something told me he was more than serious.

"Funny, say Prince of pompous tell me why your grand school is so dead, no one's here." I questioned judgingly as Harry overlooked my features as if I was daft. "It's a few days before school begins, you've arrived early. However, you'll be staying at my castle until the school year has officially started." Harry sneered wickedly as if his gaze would cast a wild spell on me that would cause unexplainable tortures and nightmares. And I was stuck in the middle of storm of an enigma of him. And I was desperately trying to escape it, to no avail of course, just my luck.

"Wonderful..." I groaned incessantly as Harry's eyes turned into slits pointed in my direction as he turned on his heel and continued to go on with the tour of the school's endless spacious rooms and hallways. As we continued on, my mind began to roam and float onto more interesting things such as what would truly come out of my year at Ethelle, I wondered. No doubt Harry would be driving me to my wits end before the finale of the school year. But bizarrely, I became interested in the complex archive of information that was housed in the walls that towered nearly everything. The aura of this place, hollow at best... but something possessed in it. Or... in me as it was suddenly shown to me, that this place had secrets, and lots of them.

And I, Prince Louis William Tomlinson of Lorxix was now completely, utterly in too deep to abort the mission of finding out exactly what Ethelle charm school was hiding. Or, if it was hiding anything at all. Suddenly, the sounds of Harry's Ethellic accent rang through my ears as he called my name incessantly as my neck nearly snapped at the speed, I'd turned around to face him as he looked at me. As if he now in this moment asked a daring question that I'd failed to answer. He stared at me with worlds of illusions that swam peculiarly in his eyes like an exotic fish through a fresh stream.

"Did you not hear me?" He inquired cluelessly as he shook his head at my lack of concentration, I'd scoff at his lack of closemouthed behavior.

"Erm... no, you talk so much I can't seem to keep up." I admitted bashfully but honestly as Harry's green eyes turned into splints of shining emerald that mirrored mine in the most delicate way one could ever stare. So hatefully, intricately, tearing me piece by piece, it disgusted me.

"Well, I informed you that things run differently at my school. We have twice annual dances every season. And roommates for boarding rooms are picked by yours truly and my mother the Queen of Elles... so you've made the wrong move getting on my bad side." Harry pushed with a smirk as if him controlling which room I would live in could sway me to kiss his pompous ass. I dismissed his failure at wooing me into petrified fear, as if someone of my high standard would stoop so low. I may be a rebel to all of the ridiculous hoops I would have to jump through... but no matter what I'd stay a royal at heart, no matter how much I'd loathed it.

"Ah, well... my days are numbered I'm shaking in my boots prince Harry, please except my formal apology!" My voice shook dramatically as I waved my hands in the air as a sign of defeat as Harry murmured under his breath and crossed his arms with a huff. Then to top it off, his eyebrows knitted together creating the most delicious grimace spread across his face. I lived for it surprisingly... the thrill of hitting him where it hurts fueled me in a way nothing had ever before. Getting my revenge perhaps, even in presumably the pettiest way known to man.

After all, we were natural born enemies like gods and monsters, we both knew who was on either side of each fight. It was only expected for the both of us to be cutthroat, it's what kept our hearts beating and our swords sharp. I sighed as Harry went on with his endless monologue about the attire I must wear to school and the academic requirements to keep myself afloat. I rolled my eyes while his back was turned, what was with Mr. speeches forevermore again? I had not the slightest idea.

"Don't make it harder for yourself than it already is twat, it's about to be the worst year you've ever seen." Harry warned angrily, his devilish tone predicted a challenge, I presumably knew there wouldn't be one.

Let the reckoning begin.

A/N: starting a new story is always like a breath of fresh air to me, I truly hope you've enjoyed the chapter... after all this is only the beginning. I personally love Louis and Harry's interactions, like lol they both hate each other so much it's funny. I can't wait to see the reaction of all of my readers reading this story as it progresses and things change... how do you all like this first chapter? Let me know, don't be shy!

I'd love to hear any of your theories or opinions on my work, I live for it actually, so if you're up for it you can ask me anytime about anything regarding my books, it's a safe place for everyone.

Alright, off to vanish into the dark mysterious hallways of Ethelle's charm school to write another chapter! See you next time my friends!

All the love, stylezxsilvermoon

the secret charm masterlist | larry masterlist | main masterlist

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Country singer Steve Harrington, who has always leaned more into the pop country side of things (think Wanted by Hunter Hayes), but wants his third album to be more true to old school country roots.

His label agrees but only if he works with Eddie Munson, a rock star who had to leave the spotlight when he got kicked out of his band for, well, rockstar behavior gone too far.

Steve isn't amused, especially because he doesn't care for metal music or rock star shenanigans. He was "raised better" and doesn't think Eddie could sit down and write songs with actual emotion and feeling.

Cue long songwriting sessions where Eddie is trying his hardest to be on his best behavior because he knows this is his last shot at being taken seriously, and Steve being surprised every time Eddie proves that he's talented as a songwriter and musician, well outside the scope of just metal and rock.

They write a song that they're both so proud of, Steve asks if he'll record it with him just for fun. The released version would just be Steve.

Eddie agrees.

It's an incredible duet, something country music has needed forever, but Eddie doesn't want that version out there.

The label genuinely accidentally releases their version instead of the Steve only version. As soon as they realize, they remove it from official places, but it's too late.

Fans have already heard it and have gone crazy over it, begging them to let the radio play this version, begging for this version to be available for streaming. The Steve version is great, but it doesn't have the emotion that's laced in the tone of them singing together.

Eddie finally gives in when he sees how happy Steve is about the reaction to it.

But the label decides they want them to tour together, have Eddie work as his opening act, perform his acoustic songs that haven't been officially released anywhere. Eddie can't do it.

He can't go back into that lifestyle. He couldn't do it to his band, who made him promise that he'd come back to them when he got his shit straight. He can't do it to his fans, who stuck by him through some rough shit, but probably wouldn't support a fucking country music career. He definitely can't do it to Steve, who deserves to have someone with him who can be trusted not to go off the deep end.

So he runs. He hides. His uncle welcomes him home, congratulates him on finally embracing his country roots.

It doesn't take long for Steve to find him.

Because he'd been more honest with Steve than he'd ever been with anyone. He told him about his childhood, his Uncle Wayne, his struggle to make it. He told him about his worse struggle when he did make it, how he got in with the wrong people, the wrong things. Prioritized the lifestyle more than his own life.

Of course Steve knew where he'd run to.

Of course Steve came to remind him what his life could be if he allowed himself to find new priorities.

Steve's lips were pretty persuasive, but not nearly as persuasive as his promises to remind him what he could have if he kept his life his priority.

"But what if I let you down?"

"You won't."

"But-"

"No. You won't. You're gonna do amazing things for yourself. And I'm gonna be there to see it happen. That's all."

And he was.

They co-wrote Steve's entire album while Eddie worked on recording his own original songs. He liked that it was an old school rock and roll feel, some blues, some country, some hints of metal sneaking in on a couple songs.

He called his band to come help him with a song, hesitant to even ask, but they came. Of course they came.

He called his Uncle Wayne to play banjo on a song, worried that he wouldn't like the heavier electric guitar notes over it. Of course he loved being involved.

When their tour started, he let himself actually feel nervous.

But instead of running, he looked at the man who supported him through it, even when his own career was on the line.

Of course Steve was there.

[bitegore]

Zionists want you to conflate Judaism and Zionism. Zionists want you to believe that Judaism cannot exist without Zionism and that all Jews are Zionists. Zionism would have Jews believe that a Jewish state is the only way that they can be safe from antisemitism and will point to any instance of antisemitism as proof that Zionism is the solution- so Zionism wants gentiles to be antisemitic in their support of Palestine. They want you to conflate all Jews with Zionism and the state of Israel, and they want you to treat all Jews regardless of political affiliation as the face of Israel. Antizionist Jews exist, and incidences of antisemitism ostensibly acting against Zionism will not help dismantle the forces propping Zionism up.

Don't do their work for them.

[lylahammar]

yknow something that I just realized adds a lot to the winged lion as an allegory for abusive relationships

the fact that the people of the golden country worship the lion, and assign all the blame for their situation to thistle without realizing that thistle is the victim in the situation. like the lion is charming and beautiful (and cough cough very european in design) and puts on the performance of a benevolent deity! and the little neurodivergent brown slave kid's entire support system happens to be the very people who trafficked and enslaved them, and placed the pressure of the entire kingdom onto their shoulders, so of course it was easy for the lion to turn all of their support system against them

[thefairfolk]

if you want a free palestine, you won't support hamas.

if you want a free palestine, you won't support hamas.

if you want a free palestine, you won't support hamas.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Krockhead

Debut: Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy's Kong Quest

What a normal guy. A very normal crocodile. And that's why it's weird! This normal crocodile works alongside the rest of the Kremlings, who walk on two legs, and wear clothes, and sometimes even wear nipples. I guess I can't prove that Krockhead does NOT do all these things under the water, but that sort of assumption would just be silly. And why would I be silly? No one's paying me to be silly. I need a believable motivation here.

Krockheads are said to be "primitive" Kremlings, which I think pretty much cements them just being sort of Regular Crocodiles. And look, there they are! In The Swamp. Classic location! They are not really enemies, just Fun Aesthetic Platforms, though some of them do go in and out of the water. Also some of them are in lava instead of water! GEEET outta there! Biology Fact: animals can't go in lava! If they touch it, they are shot up at high speed going "yeowch! hachacha hot!"

Aside from Classic Green, Krockhead also comes in Good Ol' Brown! These ones are silly springboards, and will open their mouths to launch whatever Kong stands on their snouts. This is the opposite of real crocodilians, who for all their bite strength, are notoriously weak at actually opening their mouths! Maybe this is a viable hunting strategy. I guess a predator does not need to crush prey in its jaws if it can fling a poor critter into the air and have it most likely die on impact! And then an opportunistic scavenger does not need ANY hunting capability to swoop in and steal the kill for itself. Sorry Krockhead! Outdone by Nature's Funny Tricks.

I really hope Krockheads are just not at all anthropomorphic, and that they are also recognized members of the Kremling Army. I hope they get paid. I hope they receive discounts at Krazy Kremland which they do not redeem because they do not have a concept of amusement parks.

They probably look like this underwater. Hee hee

[laughs-and-rain]

To a Woman

part 4 of filling my sketchbook with drawings inspired by my star trek playlist

[cashmere-caveman]

one thing i will never get tired of is when a story opens with a stand off between what seems like bitter enemies willing to fight to the death and then there is a flashback and actually!!! they used to be best friends !!!! :)

[poisonlove]

It's Fine | j.o

Sorry I'm very sorry

Part 3

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" I yelled in panic, my eyes anxiously scanning the ride as it slowly ascended along the track. "Stop complaining and enjoy the roller coaster," Jenna replied with a small smile, her eyes shining with adrenaline.

She had the absurd idea of coming to the county fair to try out some new rides. I had never been very comfortable with these attractions, but Jenna was always seeking adventures. My heart was racing, my breath quickening. I was afraid of heights and the thought of being suspended in the air. But Jenna seemed completely at ease.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. "Okay, maybe I could give it a try. But just one!" I said, still trying to convince myself.

We continued to wait as the ride reached its highest point. Then, with a sudden jolt, the brakes gave way, and we were catapulted downward. "CRAP!" I exclaimed loudly, my eyes wide with surprise. Instinctively, I placed my hand on Jenna's, hoping to find support to prevent me from falling during the ride. Her slender fingers intertwined with mine in an instant, strengthening the grip of my hold.

In the blink of an eye, the death-defying ride came to a stop.

The safety bar lifted, allowing us to exit, and I thanked the heavens for still being alive. "See? It was fun," Jenna said with a huge smile plastered on her lips. "Fun? I saw my soul leave my body," I muttered distractedly. "You're always such a drama queen," Jenna teased, while fixing her ruffled hair.

My eyes slowly descended to our still intertwined hands. In that moment, a wave of self-awareness washed over me, causing my cheeks to blush intensely. I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly awkward, and with a clumsy gesture, I released our grip.

Jenna made a disappointed face but quickly replaced it with a shy smile.

"You don't know what I'm usually like; you don't know me at all," I exclaimed with irritation, remembering the times Jenna used to tease me.

"Can we move on?" Jenna's voice sounded like a plea. "I've told you several times that I want to change, to be myself," she concluded, looking at me seriously.

I opened my mouth indignantly and sighed heavily. "Mmmh," I grumbled, still not entirely convinced. "I didn't hear that," Jenna said with a small smile on her lips. "Fine... I'll try," I muttered under my breath.

"Well then... I must say that this sweatshirt looks great on you," Jenna complimented, changing the subject.

I had decided to wear a simple gray sweatshirt and a pair of ripped jeans that matched my Adidas sneakers.

"Thanks," I smiled, embarrassed. "You too... I mean... you look beautiful, umm... you looked beautiful this morning too, but that's not the point," I stammered, blushing.

Jenna chuckled softly and tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. "What do you want to do now?" she asked eagerly, looking around at the bustling fairground rides with bright eyes. My eyes fixed on the Ferris wheel, longing to see the city from above and find some quiet in this bustling fair.

"What do you say we take a ride on the Ferris wheel?" I asked timidly, and Jenna smiled to the side. "I knew you wanted to go there, old lady," Jenna teased and nudged me playfully in the side. "But if you want to go on the Ferris wheel, then let's go," she said with enthusiasm.

Jenna timidly, with flushed cheeks, reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers as we walked toward the enormous Ferris wheel. The sensation was overwhelming, and my body seemed torn between the instinct to pull away in fear and the irresistible desire to draw closer due to the sweet feeling this contact was causing.

Jenna's thumb instinctively caressed the back of my hand, sending shivers down my spine. Her nails, light as feathers, glided gently on my skin, creating an electrifying sensation.

Jenna approached the counter with a smile on her lips. "Can I have two tickets for the Ferris wheel, please?" She asked politely.

The person behind the counter handed over the tickets, and Jenna handed over a $10 bill to pay for the ride.

"You don't have to pay for me..." I murmured timidly, feeling indebted.

Jenna looked at me with a small smile on her lips. "I'm inviting, I'm paying."

Our turn arrives, and with tickets in hand, we step onto the Ferris wheel. An awkward silence envelops us as we settle into the cabin. Slowly, the wheel starts moving upward. Unlike roller coasters, the Ferris wheel gives me a unique sense of security and tranquility.

As we ascend, the city unfolds before us, bathed in the warm sunlight. Streets wind like intricate mazes, buildings stand majestically, and golden reflections on the nearby river create a magical atmosphere. The city seems like a different world from up here, and I can't tear my eyes away from this enchanting spectacle.

I hear a strange noise beside me and see Jenna focused on something.

"What are you doing?" I ask in confusion.

"I'm... wait a second," Jenna murmurs softly, concentrating.

My eyes shift downward, and I notice with careful attention that Jenna's skirt has ridden up slightly due to her awkward position. My cheeks flush with red, and I instinctively look away, trying to maintain a certain level of privacy in the cramped Ferris wheel cabin.

Jenna shifts and turns toward me, her eyes shining with pride.

"Look at what I've done!" she says with enthusiasm.

Squinting my eyes, I try to figure out what Jenna has done. My mouth falls open in realization, and I look at Jenna beside me with an expression of reproach.

"You vandalized the ride?" I ask, closely examining the etching Jenna made with a key.

"Stop seeing the negative side," Jenna exclaims, evidently annoyed. "I wanted to be romantic," she murmurs softly.

A small smile spreads across my lips as I observe Jenna's doodle: my initial + J enclosed in a heart.

How can someone so brash be so endearing?

Jenna raises her eyebrows mischievously and smiles genuinely. "Ehmm... don't I deserve a reward?" she asks boldly.

"A reward?" I inquire with confusion.

Jenna rolls her eyes at my words but then smiles shyly. My pupils dilate as I watch Jenna close her eyes and slowly extend her lips, inviting me to kiss.

"I'm waiting," Jenna's statement sounds odd, given the angle of her mouth.

I reflect on how well Jenna has behaved in these past few hours. Blushing, I decide to approach her.

Now, closer to Jenna, I can observe her face more closely. Her closed eyes, awaiting the kiss, are framed by long lashes. As I look at her from such a proximity, I notice the various freckles surrounding her face, giving Jenna a unique and captivating appearance.

The conscience in the back of my head warns me, and hesitating for a moment, I lean in to delicately kiss Jenna's cheek. My action causes Jenna to tense under the touch of my lips on her skin.

She stammers something incomprehensible, her words forming only disjointed sounds, while her cheeks blaze with embarrassment.

"Let's get off!" Jenna yells, jumping up and swiftly exiting the ride as soon as it returns to the ground, as if she needed a sudden escape.

I chuckle tenderly and follow Jenna off the ride.

Jenna rubs her cheeks with her hands and then straightens her back, trying to regain her composure.

"Ehmm... I want cotton candy," Jenna exclaims with a small smile, turning towards me, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"How do you want it?" I ask, tilting my head to the side, curious.

"Pink, hippo!" she exclaims with a contagious smile on her lips.

***

Several weeks have passed since that exciting encounter at the fair, and things between Jenna and me have evolved in a surprising way.

"Are you really sure about what you're doing?" Sofia asks with concern, looking at me seriously.

"Yes..." I smile timidly.

Jenna has slowly distanced herself from the "popular" group, making up excuses one after another. Of course, she still continues to be a cheerleader, but this time she avoids any contact with her former best friend, Cassie, who has since become the leader of the group.

"I really see a change in her," I murmur with flushed cheeks. "It's... how can I put it," I whisper. "Kind." I bite my lower lip trying to hide a smile.

The physical violence has decreased considerably, but the insults are still there.

"Y/n/n... I just want you to be happy," Sofia states, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Because it seems strange to me that she never shows up with you," she murmurs, trying to make me see reason.

This is true... when we were at school, Jenna never stayed with me, not even in class. We exchanged greetings in the hallways, and then she would go talk to her group of friends. Without looking at me.

But I understood; it wasn't easy to come out, and I would be patient all the time.

"Okay, fine... see you later," Sofia gave me a kiss on the cheek and smiled genuinely before heading to the locker rooms.

I smiled to myself as I turned towards the school's exit. But in the distance, I saw Asher, and my blood froze. The brunette smirked maliciously.

"Get her!" he yelled angrily, and panic engulfed me when a pair of arms dragged me towards the bleachers on the football field.

"What do you want! Let me go!" I screamed, feeling uncontrollable fear. "Please," I whispered, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.

The guys threw me to the ground. "What the hell did you do to Jenna, huh? Why did she distance herself from us?" Asher shouted angrily.

"What? What are you talking about?" I asked in confusion, tears streaming down my cheeks.

A powerful slap made me turn my head in the opposite direction. The pulsating pain shot through my face, and a metallic taste filled my mouth as I bled slightly.

"TELL ME!" Asher muttered through his teeth, his voice filled with anger.

Crying uncontrollably, I felt the searing pain on my cheek. Asher looked at me with eyes overflowing with rage and delivered a violent kick to my stomach, causing me to bend forward.

The pain spread through my body like a wave of fire. It was a sharp, burning pain that seemed to steal my breath away. Tears kept flowing, but I desperately tried to hide them as I endured the physical agony I was enduring.

I spat blood on the ground, looking at Asher with fear and anger.

"I don't know what the hell you want... but I suggest you go to hell," I murmured, forcing a bitter smile, feeling the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

"Damn..." Asher muttered and leaned in to give me another punch.

I closed my eyes, preparing to take the blow when a voice suddenly interrupted the jerk.

"ASHER!" someone yelled.

I turned towards the sound of the voice and saw Jenna walking towards us with a worried look. Jenna was wearing the cheerleader uniform, most likely preparing for practice.

Jenna alternated her gaze between me and Asher before crouching down and looking at me seriously. Her hands gently moved along my face, trying to assess the wounds.

She clenched her teeth when she saw the deep cut on my cheek, her expression full of concern.

"Are you okay?" Jenna whispered softly.

"Yes..." I replied with a small smile.

"What the hell is going on, Jenna?" Asher asked incredulously. "Since when are you hanging out with this loser?" he questioned skeptically.

Jenna sighed loudly. "Since I fell in love with her... okay?" she said irritably. "What... you..." Asher stammered in surprise.

"You heard me; do you have a problem with that?" Jenna challenged.

Asher looked at his friends and, with a quick glance, they decided it was better to leave. "It's not over, Ortega," Asher muttered before walking towards the school's exit.

Jenna sighed and turned to me.

"You didn't have to..." I began.

"No... I had to, it's the right thing to do," Jenna said with a small smile. "But it wasn't necessary..." I said timidly.

Jenna put her hands around my face, making eye contact with me. "It's necessary to be honest with yourself... and I'm bisexual," she whispered softly, smiling.

Jenna leaned in shyly and joined our lips in a tender kiss.

The kiss was sweet and gentle, a celebration of honesty and mutual acceptance. Jenna's lips were warm and inviting, and our contact grew more intense. It was as if we were merging into a single moment of understanding and affection, and all doubts or fears seemed to fade away.

My hands instinctively rested against her hips, feeling the exposed skin under my fingertips.

Jenna smiled genuinely.

Our lips slowly parted, a trickle of saliva connecting our mouths broke gently.

"You can't understand how long I've been waiting for this," Jenna exclaimed contentedly, giving me a small kiss on the lips.

"Me too..." I whispered softly.

"Do you know that you'll probably have trouble with Asher now, right?" I asked, worried.

Jenna pressed our foreheads together, smiling sweetly. "I don't care anymore... to hell with school and all the jerks like Asher..." she confessed in a breath by my lips.

"The only thing that matters to me is you, my little hippo," she exclaimed, stretching her lips into a beautiful and huge smile.

[ddagent]

IAC 1984 I'm glad we were finally able to find time for a drink.

[stylezxsilvermoon]

the secret charm: chapter three: palace law

❝oh, carolina creeks running through my veins, lost, I was born; lonesome, I came lonesome I'll always stay carolina knows why for years I roam, free as these birds, light as whispers, carolina knows❞

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

CHAPTER THREE: PALACE LAW

❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃

WORD COUNT: 4977K

⁕

Louis

The first night in the castle was daunting to say the least, if I didn't know better, I'd say that the Styles' main castle was haunted in the presence of an enemy attempting to sleep soundly inside of their walls. Like there were guarded knights in metal clad armor who came alive at the scent of my blood, at the waft of my air, the caution of the eerie feeling that hangs in the air, and the surface pressure in my lungs.

At least, at first that was what I was trying to do. Initially I intended to render myself unconscious to make the hours in this horrid place speed by like seconds, and then I began to get restless. My mind began playing tricks on me, first it was the maids whispering about my appearance in the castle, and then it was worrying if the lamps would flicker out, but could I be fearful?! Here?! I, Louis William Tomlinson of Lorxix could not be fearful of some old rickety castle past it's prime... but then I heard a knock at the door.

And at first, my eyes squinted, because who in the Elles' kingdom would want to see me? Surely to attempt to kill me in my sleep to hush the rumors like a raging candles light, and swiftly blow it out before it had the chance to spread and burn someone. But, then again, why would they knock? That was an odd and brimming question that was swimming around my brain. But no, this presence, this lingering was all too candescent for my liking, all too warm and welcoming despite the cold, odd gesture.

"Well, are you going to let me in you old chap or have you gone half mad in there already?" I suddenly hear an oddly familiar voice struck through my ears, filled with ambiguity and fanciful pronunciation of the t's and the r's. I could know that voice from anywhere, and it was only one pick in the handful of times I've heard it in my life. Or... at least of what I remember.

Harry

"If anyone have gone half mad it would be you a half madness ago, and who's to know how long ago that was." I deadpan and challenge as I hear Harry's posh grunt and a key turn in the door as I look around puzzlingly. How is that door opening? Has the devil finally come to collect his dues for war crimes? EEK. And with that I would hide under the covers a little, for my love for charging into battle with swords drawn and tiny hidden dagger's at my side. Then after I realized he must've had a universal key to all the rooms, which made me even more concerned. But for the moment, I decided to ignore it.

"I'll pretend for your sake your impure mouth didn't speak dirt on my name just then." He says as if I'm supposed to breathe a sigh of relief at his decision to get me off the hook. I don't respond at first, and my hatred for him blinds my mouth from saying anything further, then he begins to speak up again:

"Look Louis, this year is the first and last year you'll be attending our school, so try not to royally make a fool of yourself, okay? I'm putting up with you because of my godforsaken mother listens to the babble Queen Jay is spitting." He says formally, staring down at me with the upmost imperialness I've ever seen concentrated in a single second of time, it was almost shocking he could muster it all at once, out of all people.

"I won't be messing up anything, you're the one who brings ruin to everything you touch don't you? Your bloodline is quite famous for that." I smirk, and I look down on him as if he's dirt from my perched spot on the bed.

"Not another word." He remarks casually, letting my words roll off of his back like cool, calming water. Instead of the scalding and hurtful intention they truly were.

"I'm serious Harry, one wrong move and the year isn't the only thing that'll be rolling, get it?" I remark harshly, I quickly jut closer to him so he can see the malice in my eyes, and the lack of fear.

I squint and wait for his response, but his cool eyes don't betray a single thought, making him look emptyheaded, what a fool. They stay hardened like a stone, immobile and ever permanent as they stare back at me dead cold and empty...most likely from the haunted souls of the deceased from his family bloodline, I retort silently. Not a single jut of remorse in those eyes, just as I'd suspected, cold as a viper and as deadly as one too.

It was a knowing feeling, but cold all at once to have him staring back at me, I was haunted by this feeling, and I couldn't stand it, the descendants of my father's murderer was standing right in front of me, I couldn't stand it.

So, I lied.

The amber-colored lights of the lamps at the bedside made the whole room look like it was flickering with candlelight. And just like fire, he roared with the surplus of oxygen around us, neither of us drawing a single breath. Speechless, needless, and likely to kill each other at the single drop of a pin. But no pin ever dared to drop, no door ever dared to squeak, no one was brave enough to interrupt the silence, so we filled it with violence.

I had no idea what he was thinking as he stood there at the bedside, in his regal wear...that I begin to drink in to ease the old ache of anger in my bones. He was wearing a crisp button-up white shirt, with black slack-looking pants, I thought he'd look utterly ridiculous, nice, but utterly ridiculous.

A crown was perched atop his head, wrapped around a tuft of curls on his head like a snake slithering in a forest. The crown wrapped into his head like it had grown out of it, like it was a snake snug perfectly into a nestle of leaves, like...if I were to tug on it his hair would envelop around my hands and seize it from my grasp. It was made of gold, sapphires, and pearls, while mine was adorned with gold, rubies and emeralds. Both of these jewels and extensive pieces stood for something, the cool shades of sapphire stood for the cooling waters of Elles, and the rubies, a raging fire of our abhor of Elles royalty, the Styles'.

And yet, here I was, like a fool, not unsheathing my sword and striking him down right here, I hesitated, and that was very unlike me. Perhaps it was to remain quiet, not to cause a stir or a fuss. Or maybe, his blood would beautifully stain the pristine sheets made of cotton and silk...no doubt it would become infused and be born anew, a crimson like color born from violence. To suspicious, too cunning, to soon.

A few more moments of silence passed, and what was a couple minutes felt like eternity, he finally gave up a reply. "Anyway..." He continues, drawling out that single word slowly as if nothing had transpired a couple minutes ago, I saw his face shift again... it was a horrifying sight, seeing his façade shift and persona's appear out of what seemed thin air. A showman one, the other, an arrogant prince that needed a proper lashing, then, a boy with a soft expression and eyes softer than pure satin. Calculating and cold, the boy who held all the cards... though none could tear my eyes away from this Shakespearean-like tragedy.

A battle was happening, without troops, swords, guns, and bloodshed. A battle between light and dark, and it was happening behind his eyes...and I would be the one to watch it all burn.

"Class starts tomorrow at 9 sharp, be there or be square." He snarls "My mother will be making an appearance at Ethelle today, so make sure you're on best behavior, kiss her hand and say cheerio and pip-pip, your battle is with me, not her." He says as his eyes almost take on a battle stance, hardening my gaze, fortifying it tougher than steel.

"It's all the same to me." I replied nonchalantly, and my reply was truer than sin, any Styles' was an enemy of mine. No matter the appearance or title.

"It is not all the same, she is the Queen of the country you are laying your head in, you will treat her with respect, or I will have your head early." Harry spits maliciously, he dips carefully onto the bed, invading the bubble of space I had built around myself, popping it sharply with his words. He leans over close to me, close enough to kill as my breath hitches and my eyes turn into mere slits.

"You really don't know who you're talking to do you?" He smiles in an almost... flirtatious manner? But nonetheless, it was definitely not genuine. As his gaze darkens, his smile drops almost instantly after it was shown. His pearly- straight teeth gleam and shine even in the low light, so perfect it could almost make me purge my stomach with disgust.

I don't answer because what else is there to say to a fool like him? But this apparently angers him, to my surprise.

"Say 'Yes sir' and I'll be on my way." Harry says, clearly looking for a show of respect and successfully getting the upper hand on me.

"No." I laugh, because why would I do that?

"Show me you understand what the hell I'm saying, you swine." He sighs impatiently.

"I understand." I spit furiously, because saying that is an embarrassment in itself, he's treating me like I'm an illiterate monkey, what do I expect from someone as lowly as his class? The Styles, always the showman, always the egoistical bastard with a golden crown on their head and blood bathed money in their pockets.

"Good..." he says condescendingly "See you tomorrow, classmate." He remarks as he stands up from the bed with a sheen of reborn vengeance in his veins and cruelty in his heart. But as he left...his arrogance wafted in the room for several moments like a rich suffocating perfume as if it was attempting to mask a separate scent that was absolutely awful. The next year was about to get interesting, excruciating, but interesting.

As I attempt to settle back into bed after the rude interruption, I scoff and ruffle the covers much like a disturbed peacock. Who was he to think he could fool me? Charming, then threatening the next! If only he'd known the seething hate I had for him went beyond a rivalry.... or something as superficial as whose was on who's soil or 'home turf'. No, no Harry...the qualms head deep within my rooted sense of identity and everything I held dear was against what your people stood for, power. And...with luck, I can take every ounce of power you have, even if I have to do it with my bare hands.

Dorothea

I sat in the 'Prince's palace' area of the castle, a place in the castle ludicrously decorated with everything that screamed wealthy and powerful, real leather, red velvet, gold, diamonds, the whole shebang. It was a place that Harry spent most of his time in while inside of the castle...it was like his own private corridor of the castle, and because he was the prince, he craved.... itched and hoped for ownership of the complete and whole castle one day.

I sigh with wishful eyes as I hear his unmistakable leather court shoes tap against the marble floors like the bangs of symbol's.

*Click, click, *

He comes charging down the hallway with purpose, lunging the heavy doors open with a small grunt, as they were heavy ancient oakwood doors, still preserved from when the castle was first built. He looks to me splayed on the bed and smirks smally, as not to betray what he's really thinking, even though he was a hard person to read anyway. His grip releases on the door as it shuts with a loud BANG, leaving me trapped in with him, and wide range of mixed and muddled emotions.

"What's the matter?" I finally asked, after a beat of silence as passed, waiting out a storm I didn't know existed yet.

"Nothing's the matter Dolly, darling." He sighs, already reaching for the lighter, flickering it, once, twice, then three times, signaling he wants a cigarette out of the nightstand drawer. I roll my eyes at his obvious lie but slowly open the drawer, anyway, reaching for the cigarettes wrapped in gold and red foil as I hand one to him.

"Who is Louis Tomlinson?" He laughs as he lights the cigarette "Oh, I know, the biggest fool on earth" he laughs crudely as the cigarette smoke expels from his mouth and nostrils like a wildfire's start.

"Actually, the prince of Lorxix." I correct "You really can't hate him forever Har." I say in a reasonable voice.

"Oh?" he laughs "Watch me." He says confidently as he effectively sucks the life from the cigarette, clearly stressed, trying to get the nicotine to sooth him and cocoon his anger with validation and relaxation. But...maybe he realized he'd need more than the nicotine to do that.

I don't reply, staring as he runs a ragged hand through his hair and sits on the bed and begins to remove his shoes, signaling he's settling in for the night.

"He thinks me a lowlife offspring of a cheater and a traitor," he spits, half upset, and half amused all at once. "what else am I to feel for him?" he finishes.

"I suppose your right..." I say, finally giving him the answer he wanted, the satisfaction. But all of that was an awful long time ago, and still, I have a feeling the twisted roots of ivy have sprung too far into the bloodline now to stop that unbearable itch of anger and betrayal. And, with some sprinkles of calamity mixed in, it may never cease. Regardless of how I want it to. The truth stung like a cut to the heart, it was true enough that a bloodthirsty, bitter, petty prince is no prince at all. But, rather a disaster ridden king is to come forth out of the shadows by the time the clock strikes midnight on the beginning of a cold February day.

"Exactly." Harry agrees firmly as he stands and finishes his cigarette, smirking as he does so. I suppose in his mind the rage and animosity between them was a long burning flame that was essentially everlasting after all the events. One little change could be the key to everything or set everything afire tenfold. I could only hope it wouldn't be the latter.

Because, with the anger of an undefeated all-powerful bloodline came the opportunity for further bloodshed, and reckless, fury coated decisions that could end in warfare. And with a reckless, revenge-hungry prince, came an arrogant, thought-to-be untouchable prince that had no idea of the rage of the underdog, and how deep it could sear.

And so, with the fire of decades of unharmonious ancestry behind them, a high-staked year of prestigious snubs and rivalries was sure to divide the entire charm school. And with a bit of bad luck, the entire country of Elles.

Though, despite it all, I saw beauty in the malice, warmth in the anger. Like fire, it only came alive when it wanted to, when he wanted it to. It was a controllable part of any human emotion, but could easily be lead astray given the situation, I could only hope it would stay that way. But with the reigns of anger being able to manipulate like a horse's reigns, it was only a matter of time before someone stepped in and misguided the reigns, right over a cliff of his own destruction.

And whether it be him, or the pressure of the upcoming coronation, it was a race against time to see what would tear him apart first. What flame would burn faster along the explosive line leading to his own personal brand of dynamite.

⁕

Louis

The feel of the Ethelle charm school uniform against my skin felt almost deadly.

A feeling of ownership, of sickening belonging washed over me, like I had belonged to this country, and it made me want to tear my own skin off. It branded me, seared into my skin like an everlasting mark of shame I was forced to wear. The navy-blue suit material felt strangely warm against my skin, like an expensive pair of chains, high-end, but still chains.

Nonetheless, I fixed myself up in the mirror, looking incredulously dangerous, like an uncalibrated storm of unknown intensity. And only I knew what was raging underneath. The idea of being the only one to know this rage, to know this burning hate for a bloodline scorned me, ate up all of my insides like they were coated in kerosine, sabotaged by my own anger to be burned alive from the inside.

What a life, I remarked.

Like an honored lamb heading for slaughter, I put on all my tassels, all my gold bands and cufflinks, looking suspiciously interested yet ever bored all at once. What a mix of wonders, as well as horrors, I thought.

At this school, everyone wore separate colors on their uniforms, to identify what country they were from in the surrounding areas, as mine was a burning crimson red and a cool jaded green, a little patch of Velcro on a spot just above my heart where it would go.

Impatiently I picked it up and smoothed it on, smiling a bit, now I was a true Lorxian, and everyone would know so. Before I could run a comb through my hair and gel it up, a strange figure appeared behind me, a feminine one far in the background, what was she doing in the Styles' castle? Was she one of them?

"You must be Prince Louis." She says once she gets closer in earshot distance, her voice soft yet strong and powerful, she was dressed in a uniform like mine, with a suit jacket slightly smaller and shorter, to match her size. A crisp white button-up underneath, peeking out between her barely buttoned jacket, and a pleated navy-blue skirt that barely touched her knees. A schoolgirl, I thought to myself, then my eyes gazed up to her head, nestled in her wavy auburn hair was a crown, a royal. But, to my surprise...one from Direnia? Her crown sparkled with cream-colored pearls and flame-inspired ruby jewels.... a Direnian princess, an ally of Lorixix, this could be interesting, I smiled softly at her.

My look of confusion at her presence disappeared and turned into a soft look of acknowledgement as I nodded. "Indeed, you are correct...and you yourself are a Princess? Of Direnia, am I correct? If of course you haven't changed your colors." I remark, my sentence ending with a twinge of malice, testing the waters to see if she was truly on my side, or otherwise.

In the world of royalty there were two sides, enemy and royalty, and you had to pick one quickly, no one had time for a middle-grounder. But as much as I despised these 'rules' of royalty, playing the game could be essential, especially in Elles, a land of cruelty, hierarchy and childish games that could turn into feats of terror in an instant if you weren't careful.

"I see you are as hesitant as your bloodline is known for." She remarks and nods with a small laugh "That really is...a nasty habit, you must get rid of it if you want to survive this year." She says, her tone sweet but underlined with malice.

To my surprise, she steps forward and ties my tie for me, tucking it in a quick and expert fashion into my suit jacket as I look at her with wide eyes, what kind of game was she playing?

"Hm, I suppose it is, isn't it? No room for hesitation in a world such as this, princess." I nod as she steps away and admires her work and nods curtly.

"Dorothea," She says firmly outreaching her hand to meet mine, as she shakes it...it feels strange... her soft silk glove gracing my bare hand felt like a sin, somehow.

"But most people call me Dolly, if you are in my inner circle." She smiles in a kind manner, but with mystery hidden within glassy, brown reflective eyes.

"Louis, and most people call me...Louis." I laugh softly as my blue icy eyes gaze into hers, she's the first person to make me laugh with her kindness all day, what a lovely girl.

What a lovely girl, was what I was going to say before the single most snake-like person on god's green earth slithered up behind her and wrapped an arm around her slender waist. Not daring to look up at me before looking down at her with a soft smile and lifting their head to meet my eyes with a scowl.

Harry.

"Why, hello..." he purred, his voice oozing with the satisfaction of catching me off guard. Much like a sneaky cat bagging a delicious treat unexpectedly.

"Hi." I reply, my voice and tone, dry as a bone. I let out an exasperated sigh of boredom as I continued to stand there, waiting for him to go on his monologue of doom. My jaw ticked as we stood for several seconds, each one beating weakly like a dying heart.

"I see you've met my doll." He smiles in a loving way at her, but it looks to be fake, but who could tell with someone like him? My ears perked up at the sound of the word 'doll' rolling off of his tongue like melted caramel. Oh-ho, she was a doll alright, at least to him, at least what it looked like.

To him, we were all dolls in this grand scheme, his grand dollhouse, his chess pieces, but someone had to be the hand who abruptly closed the book on this freak show. And, with luck, that person would be me.

"Hm, yes, apparently I have." I remark, my eyes boring into his like daggers "Is she your betrothed or simply your adorée?" I ask, my eyes flicking between the two of them, trying to figure out what type of connection this was, and how it compared to the grand scheme of things.

"Betrothed, and soon to be Queen, hm?" He says, the last bit of the sentence turning to her and rubbing her shoulder in a coaxing way, trying to get her words to jump out of her throat much like a ringmaster coached a tiger to jump through a flaming hoop.

Words were dangerous in the games of royalty; your tongue is a lash between life or death. Choose carefully.

"Yes, Queen soon." She nodded, quickly throwing away the air of a scared princess in the hands of an all-powerful king who held all the strings. And more of a future Queen with an iron grip on a cruel prince's heart, fading in and out like the soft murmur of a deadly animal's slumber.

And that was exactly what this was. An ancient sleeping, terrifying animal was amongst us, and it was about to awake as soon as this school year started. The autumn days, hot and muggy began to bleed into a scarlet and burnt orange colored flurry.

Louis

During the days of reminiscence and terror dreams, nothing was worse than this.

My eyes darted around my surroundings for anything to coat my throat from the demons threatening to claw and crawl their way up. And indefinitely make me say something I would regret. Dorothea, Harry, and I were being carried to the infamous Ethelle Charm School for the first full day of classes.

And in all the chaos, it felt like I was nothing more than a ghost being lifted to whatever doom my soul was cursed to. Like an eternal rapture of torture and torment. Only, to be endured by the one who had the key to end it all.

No, I was the key.

We both were.

"Remember, everyone's watching...so eyes sharp like a cat, alright?" Harry warns as Dorothea gives an affirmative nod, already familiar, while I was as confused as a moon was with daylight.

The carriage we were being carried in stopped at a halt ever so gently as crowds of the world's finest young royals filled the seats of some sort of outdoor court. I scoffed at the sight of it, already dreading becoming one with the crowd of zombies with jewels and crowns.

As the door shielding us from the beast that was the puppet strings was pulled open, my eyes became sharp, not because of Harry's instruction, but because of my rage. We exit the carriage carefully and cautiously, like a knife dragged across skin. Careful not to break the barrier but daring enough to tease and test our limits.

As soon as the rabid beast that was the school body laid eyes on me, whispers erupted. As expected, I keep my head held high and my eyes looking presumptively interested and charmingly bored, gazing as a dull knife, but a knife still the same.

Suddenly, however, guards gilded in cream and golden suits guide the three of us towards some sort of stage with a microphone. Preform, pretty doll. I mutter under my breath with a small smirk to no one but myself.

The cuffs and gilded decorations of honor weigh heavily on my wrists and arms like prison chains. And its almost as if I can picture it, after all, that's what it feels like. So, what's the matter if it isn't really there? If I am not more than a war trophy? A martyr of the gods sweet revenge?

Then what am I to be?

⁕

Some time later, Harry makes his speech about what is to be done, what allies his country has. And the importance of this year.

"People of Elles," He begins, his slow, methodic talking and deep voice demands attention. And somehow, amplified by the speakers seems to rumble the stage just a bit to make me dig my heels into the ground.

It seems like the monster has truly awoken, this time. It rears its ugly head with every word spoken and every syllable formed into digestible words. All of it, every single word sounding like a long march of calculation and catastrophic plans.

"I am your prince, and I am to be your King." He speaks, his eyes glowing like a panther, hungry with bloodlust.

"However, students at Ethelle Charm School, this year is to be of utmost importance, I will be crowned King on the eve of June, and the summer equinox. As well as Princess Dorothea Coleman." He says, with a slight smile forming on his face, but it isn't genuine in the slightest.

With his eyes he claims her, under some sort of legitimacy, whether it be of a lover or as a so-called superior over her. Regardless, she smiles brightly at him, although smartly not reaching forward to touch him at all. Perhaps she is scared of scalding her hand on the flame of his vile nature.

"Enough of my speech," he laughs slightly, albeit darkly. "Now, your Queen." he says humbly as his mother the Queen Serpent I repeat in my head.

"Thank you, my son." She smiles, snipping her words quickly into a sort of poisonous salad, manipulating them into whatever form she desires.

"Although, this year, we welcome Prince Louis William Tomlinson, heir to the Lorixian throne, and son of his late father, King Adrien Sky Tomlinson." She smiles falsely as she speaks my dead father's name. And I would swear of it, it makes me twitch and stir, as if his soul had been disturbed. Or called to somehow within me, within my rage.

And maybe, his spirit is the true embodiment of my rage, perhaps. Nonetheless, on cue I step forward in front of the podium, looking over the daunting crowd of students. But, in the autumn haze of the midday light, it looks like a bath of swirling gems, jewels, and haunting eyes.

The next words I speak sound like a deathly promise, one to be taken to the grave. One that will die with me as well as my country if I make one wrong move. Or, one wrong sword strike, I add. The words force up my throat, like a wretch of my breakfast combined with the knot of my intestines that is surely to be formed already. Violently, without doubt, a consequence, my consequence. Courtesy of all the fear and rage that intensified with every step and every breath drawn.

"Country of Elles, Styles' dynasty, liege to the crown, I am with you. I am your ally." I say as I gulp quickly at the end of my sentence, and I curse under my breath that these are the words that I must speak. My father's killer, as cold as frost and as dead as the falling bark from the trees. His descendant, as cold as his dead body, and as false as sin, standing right in front of me. It takes everything in me not to react in some way, whether it be retching, crying, screaming, or throwing a dagger.

God, as true as it is your right, strike me down where I stand.

author's note: wow, I'm speechless at that ending, what did you guys think? Also, I'm literally so out of practice at authors notes I don't even know what to say! But ... . what do you guys is to come for the future of Elles? For Louis, or for Dorothea and Harry?

(ALSO HOLY SHIT WHY WAS THIS CHAPTER SO LONG?! i deadass started writing and i was like "imma end at 4K and then ALMOST 1K LATER?! and now its nearly at 5k goodbye lol 😭)

Overall so far, how do we like Dorothea's character? I feel like I really like her character so far, I mean ... so far at least *evil laugh from behind computer*

Regardless though, I really hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, because I REALLY love writing, like holy oml so much, comment your theories (if you'd like) of what you think will happen next + your hopes for the next part of the story!

BY THE WAY! 

⁕ = indicates scene change/time skip

and [name] at a beginning of a paragraph indicates Pov, and not scene change unless the little star is there

As always,

All the love, stylezxsilvermoon

[kittykatninja321]

I feel like if you’re going to call something enemies to lovers there needs to be real hatred and preferably real stakes. Grumpy coworkers who don’t like each other could technically be enemies to lovers but that feels like stealing valor. Like they should be ENEMIES in a real sense. They need to be on opposite sides of some sort of conflict so that falling in love with each other amounts to a sort of transgression. That’s like half the fun

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

just finished the poppy war trilogy what the FUCK WAS THATTTT

[echosong-87]

This is my attempt at drawing a hitman!johndory design… i still stink at drawing trolls especially their heads and facial features… but this was my best try. :|

Kinda do ship him with Miss Delta and i do like the rivals to lovers/hero liking the villain… sorta dynamic with the two. JD likes to tease and get on Delta’s nerves and make her mess up on the job and she would throw the biggest angriest fits swearing at him that she will have him jailed…. Which she never does…. Cause that boy be a slippery son of a gun. XD

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

concept: a very unorthodox private investigator character à la Sherlock Holmes but it's set during normalization-era Czechoslovakia