#golden brown but at the same time i would almost learn to waltz just to fuck about with it

[cyberspaceoddity]

2, 6, 15, 28

Ka chow coimg at you on mobile because the desktop logged me out and I cant be bothered faffing with password stuff so no links I'm sorry

2. A song you love with a number in the title: 1,000,000 - Nine Inch Nails

6. A song that makes you want to dance: Golden Brown - The Stranglers

15. A song that is a cover by another artist: Need You Tonight - Night Club

28. A song by an artist with a voice you love: Day Of The Baphomets - The Mars Volta

[blueprint-han]

on top of the world ↠ hhj.

genre: royal au; fluff inspired by a fucking barbie movie leave me alone okay

⇥ warnings: if having a ballroom dance with hyunjin is a warning, then <3, district names are randomly chosen, not meant in reference to SKZ !!

wc: 1.5 K

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not aim to represent the activities of the real Hwang Hyunjin, nor does it represent JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

type: drabble.

taglist: @stayverse @districtninewriters @inkidz​ @sunoo-luvs 

part of: the url drabble game; requested by @tpwkjerii​ (requests for this are closed now!)

↯ note: dghwey i had literally no idea what to write for your url, so i searched up the full form of “tpwk” and ended up with “treat people with kindness”. I developed it into an idea i already had. Tell me if you like it <33 ⇥ dawn.☀️

↯ note 2: oh... i cannot... write fantasy for the life in me. ⇥ dawn.☀️

“Ladies, all in line.” The instructor clapped her hand, signaling all the princess and lady royals to line up in front of her. You quickly scrambled out of where you were seated, almost doubling over your heels as you tried to wobble your way to the line. 

Oh curse those heels. They were gonna be the reason you crashed headfirst into the floor one day, you were sure. They were those typical pointy, magenta colored pumps that only an expert in poise could pull of properly. Your uniform didn’t help either, layers and layers of clothing — topped of with a jacket, which meant you would be sweating buckets if it weren’t for the air conditioning.

Gosh, you hated being the princess and heir to the next throne. Why couldn’t you just lounge in the courtroom in your sweats and sneakers? They were more fashionable anyway. When your mom had told you that you were gonna attend “Royal Training School”, you’d pictured horse riding in the lush green stables, elegant dinners with rich silverware, and most of all — just having some time away from the royal castle, just having some time for yourself and having fun in that time.

Well, you were in for a huge mess.

It’d been only a week since you attended this place, and you hated it. The place woke you up at 5 a.m., shoved breakfast (which was mostly a piece of “high gluten” bread) to your hands and then took you ballroom dancing. So your day was terrible from the beginning already. There was no horseback riding, no sword fighting, because according to your parents — “princesses didn’t do fights”. Seemed superstitious to you, someone with a forward thinking mind, but what could you do?

Too dazed in your thoughts, your foot slipped and you lurched forward. You yelped loudly, but before you could catch the attention of the class or feel the polished marble against your face, a hand wrapped around your waist, ceasing your fall and holding you mid-air.

“You okay, princess?”

You snapped back into attention, eyes meeting with your classmates, all of them having a shocked look on their faces, and some of them anger. Turning around, you were surprised to gaze into hazel brown eyes that seemed to draw you in without reserve.

“Um..., princess?”

“Ah, yes!” You snapped out of it once again, straightening up as you smoothened the fabric of your shirt. “T-Thank you.” You took once glance at his face, and... wow. He was absolutely ethereal. His golden locks of hair fell perfectly over his temples, he adorned a majestic black suit and by just looking at him, he exuded confidence.

He giggled. “It’s alright, princess. Glad you aren’t hurt.”

“Oh, that-”

“Ahem!” The both of you looked to the side, noticing now how the entire class, along with the instructor were giving you snobby glares. “If you’re done chit chatting, can we start out class, Princess Y/N and Prince Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin. That was a pretty name.

You noticed that there was another line of men, wearing similar attire like Hyunjin, lined up in front of the princesses. “They must be from another academy,” Silent thoughts flooded your mind as you took your place, and your eyes went wide when you found yourself face to face with the Hyunjin guy again, though there was a reasonable distance between the both of you.

“Now, royals.” The instructor chimed, clacking her heels against the surface as she waltzed to the edge of the room. “You’ve been practicing ballroom dancing with yourselves for a while now, so The Head and me decided that it would be a good idea for you to get a little peek of what the actual thing looks like.” She said uninterestedly, picking at the underside of the nails as she started the music.

Immediately, slow, melodious music flooded through the speakers as you looked at one another. and then at the guy in front of you... err, Hyunjin. “You’ve already been partnered up, so get started.”

Your mouth dropped open a bit when you realised what the instructor’s statement meant, almost panicking when all the girls next to you bowed down gracefully, coaxing you to follow the same. Hyunjin did the signature “bow down and lend a hand” pose like his other classmates, and you hesitantly straightened up, lending a hand to him.

Immediately, just like how confident he looked, he pulled you close to himself, settling his hands on your hips as a smirk graced his features.

Ah... so he’d noticed you blushing.

You didn’t know why you were blushing in the first place. You’d never met this person before, but something about him just made the giddy schoolgirl in you bubble up to the surface. You shyly settled your hands on his shoulders, moving along to the beat with his motions... and silently praying your ant’s worth of dancing knowledge would not fuck this up.

“So, should we do the introductions?”

“What?” You asked, almost stumbling on your feet once again. You made a mental reminder to burn the current pair of heels you were sporting.

“Don’t you introduce yourself to the person you’re dancing with?” he heaved a laugh, almost melting at how adorably bashful you were getting in his hold. You were about to mumble a response, but then stopped, gathered your confidence, and smiled sweetly.

“Oh well then, I’m Princess Y/N from District 8; honor to meet you.” You said in a sing song voice, muffling a laugh as Hyunjin twirled you around in his hold and pulled you back. The velvet coat was soft under your touch, and for some odd reason, you wondered how his soft-lookin hair would feel under your palm.

“I’m Prince Hyunjin from District 10; equally honored to meet you,” He tilted his head to the side and you noticed him bite his lip for a second. Brushing it off, you continued swaying to the music, feeling slightly more at ease now.

“How’s school here, princess Y/N? You enjoying?” His tone was respectful, almost like he was talking to a friend he met after many years,

“Nah,” You rolled your eyes, making Hyunjin look at you like a confused puppy, waiting for you to explain. Hyunjin wasn’t used to someone hearing they disliked royal training, especially when he’d found it nothing but enjoying.

“It’s just the same old. “Oh go to ballroom, learn to balance books on your head, walk with grace, eat your food elegantly, dance again. sleep early!” Your voice was a hushed whisper, yet mocking. “You’d think that’s what I should’ve expected, but I wanted to learn sword fighting, horse riding, that kind of stuff. They barely let us outdoors here.” You tsked, watching as Hyunjin bit his lip again.

“What?” You asked, figuring that Hyunjin knew you’d noticed his action.

He chuckled. “Your stepping on my toes.”

“Oh crap I am?” You looed down, pulling your feet farther away from his as an apology crawled up your tongue, but before you could shoot it out, Hyunjin stopped you. “It’s okay.”

“Maybe I’ll step on yours and we’ll get even?” He winked, a smug look on is face as he waited for your reply. The music was basically forgotten at his point, both f you lost in a world where nobody else existed, just you, your thoughts, your words, and your giggles. You mirrored his playful expression. “I’d like to see you try.”

Hyunjin didn’t break eye contact, and you felt a small flutter in your chest when he did so. He lifted his foot, but you were too quick, you moved your foot away the moment he settled his own down, and then for revenge, you stepped on his foot once again.

“Ouch!” Hyunjin shrieked, and thanks to the loud music. no one could hear him. You hadn’t stomped too hard thankfully, but Hyunjin’s cute expression when he crinkled his nose sent you into a spiral of giggles.

“Hey! You’re supposed to treat people with kindness” He pouted, twirling you around once again as he led you to the next spot in the ballroom. Your feet basically slid around at this point, and you didn’t even mind your heels.

“Yeah? That’s what you get for trying to step on a princess’ toes.” You rested your head against his shoulder, muffling your giggles as well as calming your heart at the sudden sprut of confidence.

Hyunjin’s grip on your waist tightened, making you straighten up, faint heat dusting your cheeks. The dance was almost coming to an end, and you wished it could go on forever. You hadn’t had such fun in a while, but unfortunately, Hyunjin didn’t belong to this academy. Sadly, the dance would come to an end.

“Maybe I can teach you horse riding?” Hyunjin inquired, a curious glint in his eyes as he watched your reaction. You gasped in shock.

“Y-you’d be willing to do that?”

“Of course, if you’re up for it.”

“How will we even do that?”

“I mean, you can’t tell me you haven’t sneaked out of the premises at night.”

You remained silent.

“Thought so.” Hyunjin winked again. “So, what do you say?”

You twirled around one more time, moving slightly closer to him when you came back this time. The next moment, the music stopped, and you murmured to him with a smirk pulled at your lips.

“I’d be on top of the world.”

↯ note: 🕯️ ignore me this is just a small prayer that tumblr doesn’t make me battle the tags yet again 🕯️ may the tumblr gods be in my favor atleast this once ;-; 🕯️ ⇥ dawn.☀️

[thatgamefromthatad]

Mobile Game Review - Helix Waltz (Recommended by @raimi)

🎻 What is this app? Helix Waltz is a dress up game with an elaborate storyline that heavily involves character interactions. On the App Store it’s described as a “thrilling ballroom drama set in Baroque style dress,” which I think accurately reflects the sort of vintage European court-style setting the game takes place in. The setting also has fantasy elements, including characters of different “races” such as elves and people with animal ears and tails called Orens.

The game follows a main storyline as well as various side storylines and has a large cast of characters with their own personalities and preferences, all of whom you can build up your relationship with, which will affect their interactions with you depending on the level of favor you have with them. Rather than playing out in a linear set of stages or chapters, the story progresses as you accept and complete missions and attend balls where you have the chance to encounter other characters attending the same ball. There’s a bit of freedom in that sense where you can attend any of the available balls you want and encounter any of the characters that are there without necessarily following the main storyline, building up favor and getting to know anyone you want.

The dress up part is structured somewhat similarly to other dress up games I’ve played - there are various items in different categories (hairstyles, headwear, dresses, shoes, different types of accessories, etc.) with different attributes and rarities that will affect your “chic” level at any ball or other outing you attend, as well as how other characters perceive you depending on their preferences. You can have “beauty contests” with other characters you encounter at balls that compares your outfit’s chic level to theirs and there are other parts of the game where your outfits can compete with others players’. You can gain new dress up items through completing quests and through a gacha-type mechanic where you draw from different sets of potential items.

📝 Review Summary: The sheer number of different characters you can interact with in this game is very impressive, and it’s definitely entertaining getting to know them all and try to build relationships with them. I definitely found myself getting invested in certain characters and wanting to progress through the storyline so I could learn more. The art in this game is also very beautiful, which includes both the character designs and clothing items.

The follower who recommended this game noted that there is queer representation, including a trans character, which is a positive aspect, but I noticed there was not a lot of BIPOC representation, specifically a lack of characters with dark skin and limited options to have dark for your own character. The default character you play is white with very pale skin, and from my understanding from doing a little research, skin color changes are included as makeup items which definitely seems wrong, not only because you have to get your hands on the right item to have darker skin but because skin color as makeup seems to imply blackface, even if that’s completely unintentional (the makeup items in this game aren’t technically just makeup - they also change the shape of facial features). I definitely think this game should add different base skin tones, as well as characters who aren’t all super pale.

Full review below:

***

***

***

***

***

👍What’s good about this app? The enormous cast of characters in this game and the multi-faceted system involved in gaining favor with them and getting to know them are definitely this game’s biggest assets, in my opinion. Each character has their own unique personality, backstory, style, relationships and role within the in-game society, but what’s really enticing is the fact that the story tends to build up a bit of mystery and intrigue about different characters and families/factions, which motivates you even more to get close with certain NPCs and learn the different secrets they hold. The game is pretty immersive that way in the sense that your goal of building up enough trust and prestige to gain access to the most interesting intel/gossip aligns with the main character’s goal of integrating and positioning herself strategically amidst higher society.

That sense of immersion also comes through in the way the game is structured to allow you to interact pretty freely with the characters rather than following a linear path from one encounter to another. You encounter other characters similarly to how you would if you really were a young noble in this sort of society - by wandering around ballrooms or other settings and seeing who you run into or seeking out those that you already have some level of relationship with. You can even get letters from them! You can choose to follow closely to the main plot, or pick your favorite characters and go out of your way to interact with them, or a mixture of both. This game really focuses around character interactions in a way I’ve never personally seen before, and it’s very impressive - and fun!

Another great aspect of this game is the art, which of course is an important aspect for any dress up game. I’m not very well-versed in fashion in general, but I can say from an average Joe perspective that the clothing items and outfit sets are overall just very pleasing to look at and give me that sort of mouthwatery fashion-p*rn feeling whenever I see some extravagant “look” whether it be from real life, a game or any other sort of media. You could say I’m easily pleased though since I can say that about just about any other dress up game I’ve played or been widely exposed to (Love Nikki, Time Princess etc.). One thing I think is especially cool in this game is the perfume category which I can best describe as creating a kind of animated aura around your character that differs in appearance depending on the perfume. This works well with the fantasy-type setting of the game and gives a little extra magical oomph to the outfits. Other outfit pieces can also be animated, like jewelry that sparkles for example, which is also a nice touch.

The last positive thing I’d like to mention is the theme song of this game that plays in the main menu (and pretty much everywhere else except outings), it’s so beautiful and I love it so much I added it to my Spotify playlist I listen to every day lol. The song is Sans Toi by Sarah Natasha Warne if you’re curious.

In the video below you can see a perfume item in action creating a galaxy-like aura around the character, and hear a short clip of the song as well.

[Video Description: A screen recording showing a fully dressed-up character wearing a luxurious red white and gold robe over an ornate black and white collared top with a red vest and loose-fitting brown pants that have two golden stripes at the end of each pant leg. They are holding a sword, have long blond hair tied in a high-set ponytail that drapes over their left shoulder and have a large, circular golden ornament position behind their head resembling a sun or halo. They are wearing dark stockings and black high heels, and there is a sparkling, swirling aura around them with streams of light changing color from blue to purple flowing toward them. The rest of the character and clothing is still except for jewelry and accessories that sparkle and glow and some golden parts of the clothing that shimmer.]

👎 What’s wrong with this app? There are a few minor flaws with this app such as a glitch(?) I experienced a few times where I was talking with one character and another character suddenly appeared and then disappeared, which I’m pretty sure was a glitch because after it happened for some reason I wasn’t able to complete any of my goals at the ball. Also if you don’t have a great internet connection it can be very frustrating because the game will freeze often, although I can’t criticize this that much since my internet connection just sucks and I’ve experienced this with other games before that are just highly reliant on having a constant internet connection.

Probably my main problem with this game is the lack of diversity in skin tones, both in the cast of characters and in your options for your own character. Like I said there are dozens of characters in this game but from what I’ve seen so far they almost all have pale/light skin. I don’t really think the setting of this game is an excuse considering it’s a fantasy setting and there are definitely characters from different regions or backgrounds but they all just happen to have very light skin. Another reason I think there should definitely be more diversity is that there are definitely themes of racial discrimination in the story - some characters will spout stereotypes and hateful comments about other races, in reference to fantasy races or other social groups in the game, and I’m definitely not saying the targets of those comments should be dark-skinned, I just feel like if you’re going to touch on those subjects but have little to no representation of the people who experience that kind of discrimination in real-life, it seems a bit hypocritical. As a disclaimer I am mixed-race (East Asian and white) and semi-white passing with pale skin so I’m not an authority on the skin tone issue specifically but my opinion as someone reviewing this game is that there’s no reason to not have more diversity in the game, even regardless of whether it involves the themes that I mentioned.

Below is just a handful of the NPCs but as I scrolled through the list pretty much everyone had pale/light skin, Gedanh is the NPC with the darkest skin tone as far as I know:

As far as a lack of diversity in selecting a skin tone for your own character, that didn’t specifically stand out to me at first considering the main character is a pre-established character and not as much of a self-insert as in other games like Time Princess, but the fact that you can change your facial features using “makeup items” and skin tone is also locked to certain makeup items doesn’t seem fair, since it makes whiteness the default and limits darker skin tones to these specific items and corresponding makeup looks. I’m not sure what adding diverse base skin tones would look like from a programming perspective for this game but with everything else this game has going on that is so complex and impressive I feel like there’s not an excuse in this day and age to exclude something as basic as different skin colors.

While the lack of diversity is definitely my biggest criticism of the game, I’ll just add that another flaw is that many aspects of the game can be confusing and despite a pretty lengthy series of tutorial quests that teach you about different parts of the game, I still have some confusion after playing for a while. For example I’m still not even completely sure if winning a beauty contest against a character strengthens your relationship with them, and I had to look at the Helix Waltz wiki to learn how to investigate NPCs’ preferences and exactly how remaking clothes works etc. The wiki and other players are a great resource, but having more guidance in-game, even if it’s in the Help/FAQ section (which I checked and still didn’t have all the info I needed), would be an improvement.

🪞Full list of features (there are a lot but I’ll try to cover them to the best of my ability):

Storyline (main plot, side plots that unlock when you strengthen your relationships with characters and event plots)

Quests (there are quests that go along with the plot or events as well as daily quests. The daily quests are more simple such as “talk to X amount of NPCs” or “attend X amount of balls” while the other quests involve having interactions with specific characters, wearing specific dress up items to certain events, etc.)

Dress up (you dress up for every ball or other outing you attend. Each ball will have a different clothing attribute, such as a certain color or style, that increases your chic points if you wear items with the corresponding tag. Different characters also have style preferences but you need to investigate to find out each character’s preference. In addition to dress up before events, the mirror section of the main interface allows you to make whatever outfit you want with the items you have, which will be the outfit your character wears during scenes outside of outings. There are different categories of items corresponding to different parts of the outfit and for some categories you can wear more than one item from the same category, such as wearing a different bracelet on each wrist)

Balls (this is one of the two main ways you will interact with characters and complete quests. There are a few balls you can choose to attend at any given time, hosted by a specific family or faction, with specific characters attending that you can check before you enter the ball. Once you enter the ball and dress up, you can choose to approach a certain character if that option is available - I think you can only approach characters directly if you’ve already talked to them at the ball or if you are wearing an outfit they like but I’m not sure about that part - or you can choose “wander around” and have the chance to encounter different characters who are attending)

Other outings (in addition to balls there are other places in the game where you can encounter other characters, such as the slum and the tavern, and these outings work similarly to balls in terms of character interactions)

Conversation (for basic conversation you pick from a selection of topics and you can gain favor with a certain character by correctly picking the topic they prefer. There is dialog to read for every conversation although these are stock conversations that repeat so you’ll usually want to just speed through them. When you increase your relationship with a character you can unlock special conversations with them that are more unique and tied to the plot)

Q&A (sometimes a character will ask you a question and depending on if they like your answer it can boost your favor with them)

Beauty contests (while conversing with a character sometimes you can have a beauty contest against them comparing your outfit to theirs, and if you win you get points that I believe go toward earning in-game currency - another thing I’m not 100% sure about. I think you can only have a beauty contest with female characters but there is at least one male character I’ve been able to have a beauty contest with. Sometimes a character will immediately force you into a beauty contest when you encounter them)

Dancing (sometimes when interacting with a character at a ball you’ll have the option to dance with them which opens up a short memory-based minigame. I think completing the minigame correctly yields similar rewards to winning a beauty contest. I think you can only dance with male characters as I’ve never had the option come up with female characters so far)

Gathering intel (intel is a resource in the game that is used to learn more about characters and that can be exchanged with characters for rewards. While wandering around a ball you may have the chance to eavesdrop on characters and gain intel)

Gift Box/gacha mechanic (The Gift Box section of the game is where you can draw from different gacha-type pools for items and resources. Different pools take different currencies and have different sets of items)

Remaking, dyeing and enchanting clothes (you can change the style or color of some clothing items if you collect the right resources, which changes both the item’s outward appearance and attributes that go toward chic points/gaining favor with different characters. You can also enchant clothing items, which changes their appearance and increases their chic points)

Events (there are limited-time events such as events that offer limited-time items/gacha pools and limited-time quests)

Illusion Contests (one way you can compete with other players in the game rather than NPCs. You are given preset clothes items to choose from in order to put together an outfit, and can give the outfit a name. Your outfit is scored based on a voting system where two outfits are shown and players can vote for one or the other. You get rewards based on how many votes you get and you also get rewarded for voting on other outfits)

Championship (another way to compete with others players using your owned items rather than preset items. I have not participated in the championship myself yet but from my understanding you make one outfit to defend against other players challenging you and then make outfits to challenge other players’ defending outfits. The players you have the option to challenge will be the same rank as you so the competition is balanced and I believe this competition is based on the attributes of your items and a theme set for the current championship cycle, a bit more like a NPC beauty contest than the voting-based Illusion Contests.)

⭐️ Overall Rating: 4/5 (this would definitely be a 5/5 game if they fixed the racial diversity issue but it’s unfortunate that a game that’s otherwise so complex and engaging - and has LGBTQ+ representation - drops the ball in this area. I definitely hope they at least add the ability to have different base skin tones in the future.)

I really enjoyed this game so thank you to @raimi for suggesting it! If anyone else has any game review suggestions feel free to send them 🥳

[oingo233]

Hiii! Could I request a ship for the Marauders era and golden trio era?? I go by she/her and I am straight. I'm 16 and I´m a Slytherin. im 5´3, i have curly brown hair and brown eyes. I am a Taurus. I love to paint, read, discover new music and going on little adventures with my friends or family. I´m quite calm but the minute someone says party i go feral lmao. I hope that´s okay. Thank youuuu <3

Hello @ftwert ! I’m so sorry this has taken me so long!  But you sound absolutely wonderful and I’m very excited to ship you with...

Marauders Era:

I ship you with Regulus Black...

- He first saw you in the Slytherin common room.  You had paint smudged across your nose and cheek, he watched with pure amusement and something close to awe as you itched your nose and left an even larger smudge of deep purple across the area.  He stifled his laughter and tried to sneakily walk around you to get a peek of the canvas you were painting on.  His curiosity to what you could have been painting was palpable.  He craned his neck as he walked and completely missed the stack of books on the floor.

- He toppled face first and next thing he knew two soft hands were wrapped around his bicep and helping him up.  He blushed a deep red, which you found extremely endearing.  While he stuttered for a response you, yourself began to blush.  “I’m so sorry,” you said, trying to wipe some purple paint off of his shirt.  He looked down to take a better look and smiled, he shrugged.

- “S’ arlight.  Purple is nice,” it was his attempt of flirting as he pointed to your face, but you missed it completely and flushed as you wiped at your face.  He laughed now at the ridicoulsness of the moment and without thinking he brought his hand up to you cheek and caressed it softly, wiping at the paint to no avail.  It was dry but he was reluctant to move his hand, or to move away at all.  But atlas, he did.  He stepped back and a tense silence fell over you two,  but the tension was sweet and exciting.  You two struck up conversation, at first it was awkward but then you two sat all night on the couch and talked and slowly he began to laugh more around you.

- You were painting the forbidden forest at twilight, he went with you the next night to get a live reference.  He snuck out with you (he already knew he’d break several school rules to be with you, the feeling scared him) and sat next to you in comfortable silence as you painted.

- The next time you two snuck out to paint he brought a book and read it to you under the moonlight.

- The next time you snuck out you brought him a canvas too and taught him to paint.  Being with you, whether reading or painting he felt the weight of the world, the burden of war, lift from his shoulder completely.  He felt light and happy with you.  He felt normal.  And this change in his mood, and the frequency of his smiles and laughter around you did not go unnoticed by Sirius or anyone that knew Regulus in anyway.

- When you finished your painting of the forest, you gifted it to him for Christmas.  It was one of the nicest things he felt like he owned, and tried not to cry as he hugged you in thanks.

- You two became best friends and inseparable.  You pushed him in and out of his comfort zone and made him feel like he wasn’t alone anymore, whether it be through books or painting or even dragging him to the occasional party.  Where he watched with amusement as you let loose of your usual calm and went crazy on the dance floor.  You were an animal and a complete vision.  

- On a lazy weekend you two would put on random records and lounge in his dorm.  On some songs, Regulus would wordlessly take your hand and pull you into his chest for a long, slow dance.  You could feel his heart racing, yet calm, against your palm, and his hot breath on your temple.  Occasionally, even the feel of his soft lips pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline.  It was moments like this you doubted whether your friendship was truly platonic.

- When you had more space and were listening to records in the common room late at night he’d playfully pull you along in a waltz.  It was moments like this you remember that he was part of the Black family and on the list of things he learned, dancing like a gentleman was one of them.  

- You two always go on little adventures through the grounds, or after quitdditch games.  Most of the times you had to convince and prod him but he would always have so much fun and escalate every adventure because he truly did have the same rebellious blood that Sirius has, it just shows differently.  Mostly, this side is revealed when he is with you and feels free.

- It was on one of these little adventures that he confessed his love for you. You were cuddled into his chest while hiding from the groundkeeper, both of you trying to control your giggles.  You heard the groundkeepers footsteps fade away and in the silence that followed Regulus held you close and tight.  “I’m in love with you,” he said, he froze stiffly after the words tumbled out.  You looked up at him to see that he was already staring at you with wide eyes, you broke out into the most dazzling smile and his hear leapt straight from his chest and into your hand.  You kissed him.  Lets just say you two spent a long time in that little room making out.

Lightning Era

I ship you with George Weasley...

- It was a scandalous love.  Or that is what he likes to call it anyways, he likes to refer to Romeo and Juilet often because of the difference in houses.  But he loved it, if anything he thought you were perfect and he also found the sneaking around very hot.

- He first saw you on the train one year, at the end of summer.  You were reading alone and bobbing your head to music with a little smile.  He was dying to know more about you, so later that day he snuck away from his brothers and found his way to you quite suddenly.  

- Your chests collided and your book fell to the floor, he went to pick it up at the same time you did and you two bumped heads.  Hard.  You yelped and he mumbled a curse under his breath, rubbing his head with one hand, he held and inspected the book with the other.  It was his favorite.  He handed it back to you and very slowly walked you back to your cart as you two talked about the book and your favorite parts.

- When it was time to part he sweetly kissed your cheek and joked that he’d find you again if it was the last thing he’d ever do. He left you blushing madly and standing frozen for a bit.  That night at dinner you felt his eyes burning into you, whenever you caught his gaze he both winked and fought a blush of his own.  He then snuck away again to walk you back to your dorm, you found yourself sneaking away from your friends too, just so that you two would be alone.

- You two started to pass notes in class and the one time you got caught he took all the blame and got a short detention for it.  You waited for him and you two snuck up the astronomy tower where he talked to you all about his family and friends and things he loved most and his worse fears and favorite bands and books.  In return, you spoke of your own family and friends, dream job and deepest secrets. By the end of the night he became one of the people who knew you best, a realization that took you by surprise.

- You two snuck back through the halls, scared of getting caught past curfew but George used every trick in the book to keep you two in the clear.  In the process you two rummaged through empty classrooms and stared at deserted paintings, searching the halls for their inhabitants and whoever found them first gets to dare the other to do something.

- Whenever George won he asked for a kiss on the cheek. Finally, he won on the last painting before you two parted.  He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear, you shivered at the feeling his his breath on your neck as he spoke.  “I dare you... to kiss me like it is the last thing you’d ever do.”

- You stared up at him in shock and soon he grew almost nervous, but then you kissed him so deeply and yet so soft, his entire heart nearly stopped beating.  You truly took his breath away.

- After that night you two snuck around often, and one night you even decided to paint him.  He was awful at staying still but soon you could just paint from memory.  You kept the little painting with you over summer to look at. You two wrote constant letters to one another.

- When he saw you again he kissed you just like you kissed him that one night and left you in a complete daze.  He also brought a stack of annotated books from home for you to read, and in exchange you gave him some of yours.  You two designated one date night to them a month and it was always filled with debates, laughter and ship arguments and agreements.

- He really stepped up his party throwing game after discovering how much you absolutely love them. Seriously, Gryffindor threw some of the best parties during George and your remaining years at Hogwarts.

- He first told you he loved you when he also confessed he no longer wanted to hide away with you. He wanted everyone to know that he was yours, and you were his.  You two were cuddled under the moonlight on the astronomy tower.  You felt his chest heave as a nervous breath shook him and then the words came tumbling out “I love you so bleedin’ much I need the whole word to know it.  I don’t want to hide anymore.”  It took a while of you staring at him for him to find the courage to look at you again.  When he did a smile broke out on his face because you looked so elated and so beautiful.

- You agreed and said you loved him so much.  He nearly cried.  Later that night, he told Fred (who always knew about you, but was the only one) and they did a victory dance in the dorm.  All the other boys threw pillows at them and told them to shut up.

- Whenever he hears a song you might like he rushes to tell you all about it and finds a way to listen to it. You two come up with the more ridiculous dance moves that always leave the two of you doubled over in laughter.

- All his friends and family grew to adore you! 

That’s all folks!  I really hope you liked this!

[captain-yeet]

It’s A Little Awkward (Demetri Volturi x Fem Vampire!Reader)

Requested by @like-rain-or-confetti

Summary: You met your mate the moment you opened your eyes to your new immortal un-life. He wasn’t what you expected, and with pent up frustration at a life you didn’t ask for exploding you ran from him. Circumstances cause the two of you to reunite unexpectedly.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: call me Avatar A A N G S T, baby. And repressed romantic feelings.

Life sucked and then you died, and woke up again. New. Strong. Too strong. Everything grated your senses and all you knew was fear.

Soaked from head to toe from a heavy flow of rain from above, you remember laying in a damp alleyway feeling... blank. It took a moment to even remember your name. The next thing you remembered were teeth in your shoulder. Fear clouded all your senses until someone hovered over you.

A man whose face brought you a sense of comfort unknown to you.

He helped you to your feet and shortly after you left with him. The calmness he brought to you was almost unnerving, with how foreign it was to your new body. You learned his name was Demetri, and when he whisked you away from the scary alleyway to the city of Volterra to his masters you learned another thing; soulmates existed. Or rather, the vampire equivalent of soulmates.

Joy filled your being at the prospect - a life partner! Someone to be there for you always. And Demetri was perfect.

Come your first feeding time, however, the joy turned into horror, and horror led to punishment by your new master’s orders via a piercing stare from a young blonde teen and even more crushing, disappointment from your mate. So what did you do?

Panic, and smash through one of the Volturi castle’s many windows in the dead of night, sprinting through the streets and to the countryside as fast as you could.

You’d been a nomad for six months now, travelling aimlessly around the world, going wherever you wanted. The Eiffel Tower? You climbed it for fun at 3 am once. The Grand Canyon? Been there, saw that, ate a tourist who catcalled you.

Nothing held you back anymore. 

Your new immortal life would be one that didn’t feel fear ever again. If you wanted to explore? You would do so. If you wanted to run away from crazy Italian vampires who liked to mind torture you? You sure as shit did just that.

One thing stayed on your mind though; Demetri.

God, you hated how things left off with him. After Jane’s punishment session was over you stormed up to your shared quarters with Demetri and the row you two had practically shook the castle walls. He couldn’t understand why you were so adverse to feeding the way he did, you couldn’t understand why he would see it as horrible.

 “You’re literally rounding up innocent people to die, Dem,” you had hissed, baring your teeth as you did so, anger fueled by your newborn instincts.

 “People no one would miss,” he snapped back dismissively, rolling his eyes at your reaction. “We do our homework, cara mia.”

 “Oh my god!?” You walked away from him to stare out the window, hands in your hair gripping the roots in frustration. “That does not make it okay? And don’t get me started on the pit where you dispose of the bodes...”

Demetri sighed from behind you. “You’re a vampire now Y/N. Feeling bad for your diet is a habit you can’t afford to have anymore. It’s how you will survive.”

A violent snarl ripped through your throat, startling yourself and him. “It’s not that! I don’t mind the whole hunting humans thing. It’s your coven’s methods that I find completely messed up.”

 “Our coven,” he corrected you.

You stared at each other in silence. After a few minutes went by, Demetri shook his head. 

 “I have to go sort some things now, collect yourself before I return, love.”

That. That response triggered your furious, panicked escape from Volterra. And here you were, standing on some random cliff in the wilderness of the Pacific North-West, regretting ever speaking to him that way.

Granted, you felt justified in your feelings. And he was being insensitive. Regardless, the mate’s pull still held strong and you wondered as you stared off at the rising sun if it felt as strong still for him too.

 “Hey, there you are,” a silky sweet voice called to you from behind.

Turning around, your dark red eyes locked with the golden ones of Rosalie Hale. A newfound friend of yours. 

She waltz forward and took your hand in hers, a comforting grip. “Come now, training is about to begin.”

Training, right. With a huff, you let the blonde lead you through the forest.

You found yourself allied with Rosalie and her coven for a bizarre reason. Apparently, some Romanian vampires had lost the plot and wanted to claim one of their own as their shared mate. A hybrid. And they wanted to make their own with her.

And they had gathered an army to do so.

At first you thought it was a load of steaming horse shit. When you entered the area, Rosalie and the patriarch of her coven, Carlisle, confronted you, asking you who you were. After proving you were just a random passing through they told you of their situation and asked a favour of you; “Come and see why we want to protect this particular coven member. I assure you, once you meet her, you’ll understand.”

You agreed. You followed. And then you saw her.

A pretty young teenager, with red cheeks and soft chocolate brown eyes who barely spoke apart from her strange form of thought projection and excited hand flapping when she goofed off with her family.

She was just a kid. A fucking kid.

And now, here you were, gathered with the Cullens, some smelly shapeshifter folks from a local rez and many strange vampires. You were willing to fight for what you felt was right - and hey, if a couple of creepy Romanians had to die, then so be it.

 Jasper and Carlisle stood before the group with serious expressions.

 “We have some news,” Carlisle began, “and while we know this will no doubt upset you all, we ask that you keep calm.”

 “The Volturi are coming,” Jasper deadpanned.

Your heart, if it could beat still, jumped. Your old coven, your mate, were coming. A question burst to your lips before you could stop it. “How soon?” 

Jasper eyed you with a curious glint in his eye, sensing your emotions. “Within the next couple of hours.”

So soon! You began to feel panic rise in your chest.

A hand clamped itself firmly on your shoulder. You looked and saw Emmett and Rosalie has flitted to your side, expressions of concern on their faces. It surprised you to no end just how kind they were to you even after they found out you were mated to a Volturi guard. From what you’d heard they had every right to not like you, but instead they welcomed you. Accepted you.

 “We know Y/N,” Emmett said softly, “we have your back, no need to worry about your ex.”

 “If he has any brains he’ll come to his senses when he sees you,” Rosalie added, leaning into Emmett’s side. “Or the time apart will have given him much time to think on his actions.”

It pained you to watch the two lovebirds find comfort in each other’s touch. Your mind traveled back to when you and Demetri first began to get to know each other; he was a great comfort to you. Gentle, none of his touches were rough or hurt you. Just the pure, sweet feeling of feeling safe and loved.

The hours droned on for you, and sure enough, your old coven appeared in full force.

The masters led a group of what looked like their best fighters, just from the colours of their cloaks. You vaguely understood the colour-coding of the ranks of guards in the coven. Two black cloaks stood out to you; the tall hulking mass that was Felix on one side of the masters, who caught you in his sight. His eyes widened and he looked to his right, where on the opposite side of the masters was your mate.

Demetri stared at you looking like a bus has slammed into him, lips parting in shock.

 “Welcome!” Carlisle called out to the Volturi.

 “Ah, Carlisle,” came Aro’s smooth reply. He floated to Carlisle and took his hand in his, reading the memories greedily. “What an interesting time for us all. Fighting on the same side!”

 “They harbour traitors in their midst!” Caius snapped, his eyes locked on you with a death glare.

You shrank as everyone’s eyes came onto you. You didn’t know where to look so you simply kept your eyes to the ground.

 “Y/N, what a surprise!” Aro cooed, ignoring his fellow leader’s cry of annoyance at his response. “I’m sure you and Demetri have much to catch up on.”

Lifting your head, your gaze shifted to your mate, whose stare had not let up at all. No, he stared at you with such an intensity that it sent a shiver down your spine.

Luckily for you, the attention on you and Demetri faded as Jasper began going over battle plans against the Romanians. The day went on quickly yet somehow slowly at the same time; sparring training took place and that went smoothly. But Demetri’s presence made the day drone on longer.

You needed to speak with him.

As the sun began to set, a day’s worth of training and going over battle plans done and dusted, you seeked out the cliff Rosalie had found you at earlier. The scenery up there was beautiful and it gave you some peace of mind. 

You sat at the edge with your hand raised, watching your skin glitter and shine luminously as you turned your wrist. You didn’t flinch when the wind whipped your face as someone appeared at your side, standing next to you.

 “It’s a nice view up here,” Demetri said quietly.

You hummed in agreement. “It really is.”

He shifted, and took a seat beside you. You turned your head to look at him. Your love had not ceased to look utterly handsome in the time you’d been apart. A sadness lingered in his eyes, the kind of sadness that had implanted itself into one’s being after a time of great grief. But he gave you a small smile. “I want to apologise to you, Y/N.”

Tilting your head to the side, you shifted your body toward him, showing him you were listening.

 “I was harsh on you. You had just been turned and you weren’t comfortable with how we - how I fed. And I tried to force my beliefs on you, which I should not have. And the thing with Jane -”

Sighing, you squeezed your eyes shut, flinching at the memory.

 “I am so sorry I stood by and let that happen to you.” You felt his hand encase itself around one of yours with the lightest of touches, hesitant. “What happened between us hasn’t changed how I feel about you in the slightest.”

That made you open your eyes. Snapping your head back up with hopeful, wide eyes, you scanned his face for any sign of a lie; there wasn’t any. “It’s been so painful being apart,” you whimpered. “I don’t regret leaving the Volturi at all but shit, I hate how we left things. How I left you, the one person who made me feel safe and secure.”

Raising your hand to his face, you hovered over his cheek, the hunger you had for him growing rapidly. Would he still let you touch him in such a way?

Answering your doubtful thoughts, he brought your hand to his face, holding it there. Turning his head slightly he pressed his lips to your hand. “I miss you. Let us work something out, please. I’ll buy us a house away from the Volturi, I’ll do anything.” A shaky sob made his body shudder and his gaze turned pleading, begging you. “I can’t live without you.”

That was all it took. Your body moved before you could respond with words and you took his face in your hands and kissed him desperately, sealing your fates together. You’d fought against your feelings long enough; the months apart hurt more than anything you’d ever experienced - even rivaling the thirst of blood - and now you needed Demetri more than anything.

He grinned against your lips, laughing breathlessly. “I’ll take that as a good sign?”

Giggling, you pulled back to smile at him. “I have never felt more sure about anything.”

His hand intertwining with your, you nestled into his side and watched the sun set. For the first time in a while, you felt secure again. As long as you had Demetri by your side, you were ready to finally make something of your second life.

[fletchphoenix]

Steal Your Heart

Thank you to @angel-dust-now and @honeyxmonkey for your amazing prompts! Tried to incorporate them both into this and I hope you enjoy this! The next chapter of the high school AU just isn’t up to my standard at the moment so hopefully it will be soon. Anyway, thank you for your support and onwards with the chapter! 

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

  Of course the day before his arranged marriage, Rapunzel and Eugene had decided to host a ball. It was obvious that they’d do that to get Varian to ‘meet the suitors’ and all that jazz. Of course his suitor was the most obnoxious person in the world - he just HAD to be. Varian groaned as he had to deny yet another unwanted advance, leaning back against a cool, marble pillar as Leonard relented and went away to find another man to flirt with. His eyes rolled as he looked away, a frown falling onto his face. Silently, he tugged on the collar of his shirt as Rapunzel glanced over with a saddened expression, him meeting her eyes before promptly averting his eyes to the floor of the ballroom and focusing on the golden details.

  He was trying. He just..didn’t like the guy’s face or voice or personality or..okay maybe he wasn’t trying, but he couldn’t help it! He was being forced (‘prompted’ was how Rapunzel had put it upon proposing the idea to him, but he knew that it was simply to make him more complicit to accepting the idea) to marry a guy he didn’t know for the sake of a kingdom that he knew thought he was a monster. He hated it here, so honestly, the kingdom probably just wanted to get rid of him in the only way they knew how - marriage.

  Marriage. Marriage as a prince was a curse. Something that wasn’t for love or endearment - it was just for status of the king and queen and good public relations, and to prevent wars between kingdoms. He wished he’d just been born in the kingdom itself, instead of a castle which kept him cooped up every hour of every day. He’d never been allowed out of the castle’s walls, it only fed his curiosity instead of deterring him, desperate to know how other people lived and went about their lives and fell in love with each other...it sounded perfect. Well, for him at least. Eugene had always told him his time in the village was short, but he hated it more than anything else in the world. Varian neglected to believe him - Eugene had a tendency to over-exaggerate everything, take for example the time he thought he had the plague when it was merely a common cold. 

  From across the room, someone began to stroll over. Someone..who was admittedly handsome and a sight for sore eyes in Varian’s opinion - but when you’d been looking at the dim-witted face of Leonard all day...let’s just say a change of scenery was very needed. The mysterious stranger donned an emerald jacket, stretching down to his waist with golden thread weaved into intricate patterns along the sleeves and chest. Not at all conservative with the details, in Varian’s opinion. A gold waistcoat was slightly hidden by the jacket, brown trousers completing the outfit and a pair of black shoes clicked against the floor as he made his way over. Varian instantly scolded himself for staring, but he couldn’t help that a pretty stranger was coming over to talk to him. This never happened once in his life and now that it was happening..he allowed himself to experience a wave of childish excitement and wonder. 

  “Hey. What’s a beautiful prince like you doing here?” the man asked, a smirk playing on his lips. Now that he’d moved closer, Varian’s eyes drifted over the glasses that framed his face and the ribbon, matching the color of his jacket, holding his hair back in place in a semi-neat ponytail with his fringe slicked back. Varian had to admit - he was definitely more handsome up close. A sea of freckles covered pale cheeks as he leaned against the pillar to his right, gazing down at Varian. “Sorry, I guess I should ask for your name first. I’m Hugo. You?”

  “Oh, right. Uh-my name is Varian. Prince Varian of Corona.” he stuttered out, his face flushing at the attention from someone as..well, not suave but someone actually flirting with him, for a change. 

  “Ah, right. Well, could I steal you away for one dance, my prince?” Hugo asked, holding his hand out and bowing, the smirk still playing on his lips as the other hand pushed the circular glasses up the bridge of his nose again with nimble fingers. Varian debated saying no, the thought sticking in his mind as he reminded himself he couldn’t, in fact, dance and he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of such a handsome man. Alas, he gave in to his inner urges and agreed to Hugo’s proposal, slipping his cool, gloved hand into the blonde’s warm, bare one and letting himself get guided through the ocean of dancing couples to a relatively quiet spot on the outskirts of the ballroom. Carefully, Hugo pulled him along into a waltz as they glided across the dancefloor.

  Varian’s inexperience must’ve been evident from the way Hugo slowed his movements and gave him time to catch up and learn before he quickened their pace ever so slightly. It was sweet - no one was ever really this considerate of him and his limits. The smug smirk was still on the blonde’s face, however, as they swayed in time with the music, Varian’s head resting on his chest as he let himself get lost in the moment for a while. The feeling of Hugo’s chest rising and falling with his melodic breaths, the gentle thudding of his heartbeat, the warmth that practically engulfed his whole body and left him with no escape..it was heavenly. He knew it was going to kill him to have to marry someone like Leonard after he’d just met a diamond in the rough like Hugo.

  “How about we get out of here?” Varian hesitantly asked, Hugo’s eyes glittering slightly before he avidly nodded. Varian took his hand in his, interlacing their fingers and sprinting out of the ball. Neither of them would be missed, he supposed, as he pulled Hugo down hallway after hallway, all seeming the same as the other laughed in excitement and confusion at where they were going. Varian’s heart fluttered at the sound. He would kill for that to be the only sound he’d ever hear again.

  Eventually, they pair ended up outside, laughing and joking as they watched the moonlight shimmer against the surface of the pond in the walled garden of the castle as the sound of the ball faded away into little more than a murmur. Their fingers were still interlaced as they walked, gazing in awe at the sheer beauty of the gardens (and each other) with nothing but a comfortable silence between the pair until Hugo spoke up. “So, Prince Varian..what are your interests?” He questioned, glancing over at the other boy as they passed a particularly beautiful patch of red tulips, barely poking out of the ground and their crimson buds only just discernible in the moonlight. 

  “You’re probably going to call me nerdy or something but..alchemy is my one true passion. I don’t know what about it I love. Maybe it’s the processes and how intricate they are, or how useful it can be, but..I adore the subject. I also love my pet raccoon, Ruddiger and uh..probably singing. I’m...not that good, though. And I won't be able to do it much after I marry Leonard anyway..” He laughed nervously, his eyes fixing on the ground and hair falling into his face. His hand trailed up to tuck it behind his ear, but Hugo beat him to it, his hand lingering for slightly longer than socially accepted and causing a flush to rise on Varian’s pale cheeks. 

  “You’re in luck, hairstripe. I just so happen to be an expert in the sciences.” He began before going off on a tangent about alchemy and its processes and different formulas. Varian took in every word as if it were gospel, his eyes fixed on the other as every word flowed like a stream, each word encapsulating Varian even further into Hugo’s siren song as his delicate melody of a voice lured him in. “Well, how come you can’t do it after marriage?” Hugo pondered, his eyes meeting the younger boy’s, who immediately saddened.

  “Everyone thinks I ruin everything here. They say the marriage is meant to ‘straighten me out’ and make me less of a ‘problem’ or at the minimum someone else's. Leonard even said today in the lab ‘we’ll soon take that hobby out of you’ as if it’s a problem. I get that I sometimes overestimate or miscalculate, but..I don’t know. I don’t wanna live my life with someone like Leonard and give up my freedom for a rat-faced little snob like him. But..I’ve got no choice.” Varian sighed as he bit his lip gently. “Never mind, I said too much I-”

  “Run away with me.”

  It had caught Varian off guard, the sudden proposal coming out of seemingly nowhere. Run away with a man he’d only known for a few hours the day before his arranged wedding with Leonard? It would be scandalous! Of course, the only reason that Corona really wanted him to marry was so he’d be out their hair for good, but it was still hard to accept Hugo’s offer. He had to admit, he’d thought about it a few times and he would need a guide to show him around the different places of the seven kingdoms, but..just running away?

  “I..I know I’m being forward with this, but I felt a connection when I saw you, Varian. Something deep and real and true..I’ve never felt this way before, and I can’t bear to see you marry some stuck-up, prissy little prince like Leonard.” He continued, inching closer to Varian and backing into a small seating area, ivy almost concealing it. “Varian..it’s your choice, but..I love you. Sure, it’s early to say that, but..I’m sure of it.” He concluded as Varian stared at him in utter awe, in wonder of how bold the man in front of him was. He loved it.

  “Hugo I..are you sure? Are you sure you love me?..” Varian muttered, his other hand sliding and fitting perfectly into Hugo’s. The light summer breeze blew between them as Hugo guided Varian closer, raising his hands to his lips and pressing a kiss against them gently before lowering them again.

  Hugo hesitated before inching even closer, tilting his head slightly and leaning in. “I’m sure of it, my dear. In fact, I’ll prove it.” he whispered against Varian’s lips, them meeting soon after in a slow, careful and absolutely divine kiss. Arms wrapped around each other and pulled their respective partner’s closer to each other, eyes fluttering shut and letting themselves get lost in the experience of their lips meeting for the first time. It was all Varian had ever wished for..

  ...until it wasn’t.

  Hugo was tugged out of his arms by the collar, Eugene pulling him away as Hugo stared at Varian with a solemn, regretful look on his face. Quick;y, Varian snapped out of his haze and pulled on Eugene’s sleeve. “Hey, get off him! What are you doing?” He yelled as he tried to stop his brother-in-law from taking Hugo away from him. “Eugene let him go!” 

  “This man, Varian, is a wanted criminal in Corona! So just head up to your room now.” Eugene snapped bitterly, completely unlike the playful man Varian knew and loved. It stunned him into silence before he stood his ground and replied with his own amount of sheer annoyance at the situation.

  “Eugene! No! I’m not gonna let you just take him awa-” 

  “Room, now!” Eugene yelled, turning to the younger boy who by this point had flinched back, tears making wet trails down his cheeks before his back straightened. Varian gave a prompt reply of ‘yes sir’ before walking back inside, building into a sprint as he ran to his room in the castle, slamming the door and rattling the alchemical equipment on the table. Additionally, he’d disturbed Ruddiger, the raccoon peacefully sleeping on the twin sized bed before waking up to see his master’s emotionally distressed state and fruitlessly attempting to comfort the boy as his body shook with the sheer force of his sobs. 

  It took him a while, but he’d eventually calmed down. Ruddiger curled up in his arms as Varian pondered Hugo’s prior proposal. Running away was his only choice now, getting away from the life he’d resented for so long because of how unfair it was on everyone around him. All around him was poverty and despair, and he couldn’t stand for that anymore. War or not, he was living his own life from now on. A determination flooded through his body as he walked to his closet, changing into some peasant clothing that a cook had gifted to him for if he ever wanted to sneak out of the castle for a day. It wasn’t much: brown trousers, long black boots and a long-sleeved, teal shirt with a dark blue patch on the left arm along with an apron, but it would have to do. He also took a navy cape out of the closet for himself and a green one for Hugo should he decide to leave with him. He sauntered to his window, a new haze taking over him as Ruddiger jumped onto his shoulders. 

  Varian gazed out at the kingdom he knew and loved, little dim lights showing houses with their candles still lit as he pulled his navy cape around himself further. Tears welled in his eyes before he promptly dismissed them. No. He wasn’t giving his life away to marry some deadbeat prince from a useless kingdom as part of some peace treaty, he wanted to marry for love and not just to please the masses. That was his choice, and he had to do this, so why was he finding it so hard to leave the prison he called a home and the wardens that were his family. He bit his lip gently and carefully pushed open the window, light wind brushing past his face and ruffling his hair with its chilling air. Wow, this really was it. His first time leaving the castle...but he couldn’t just leave.

  Quickly, he gathered an assortment of items that were necessities in his eyes: a few hundred gold pieces, his goggles and a few alchemical books and supplies, a small painting of his mother and father, a loaf of bread and a satchel to hold them all in. Hastily, he shoved all his belongings into his bag after he pulled out a small test tube. Stepping out into the hall, he shook it gently and a sickly, green glow radiated onto the walls as he turned left and began to rush down the winding hallway, determined to save the other boy currently locked in the dungeons. 

  It wasn’t a hard journey to make - all the staff and royals were asleep so there was no chance of him getting caught, dim light illuminating the seemingly longer halls as he sped down them. He wasn’t going to let himself or Hugo be subjected to a life of torture when they’d been so harmonious, so perfect for each other in the short time frame they’d known each other. It wasn’t fair. If Rapunzel could marry a peasant, why couldn’t he?

  His footsteps hesitated in the hall. Rapunzel. How would she react to the news of his departure? He knew it was selfish - to risk a war in order to be with a man he’d only just met, but..she had to understand he couldn’t give away his free will to someone who couldn’t even tell magnesium from silver. Leonard had the intelligence of a goldfish - whereas Hugo knew vast amounts of things about alchemy and science..it was addictive to listen to the other boy speak about something he loved so endearingly. That was one more reason he couldn’t let the other get harmed at the hand of his family, as he pushed open the large, spruce door to the dungeons with Ruddiger in tow.

  Pitch black darkness surrounded him, the light from his makeshift contraption providing a limited field of view, yet enough for him to find the keys and steal them from their miniature, metal hook on the wall. As he passed cell after cell, some with raspy breathing, he noticed how freezing cold it was and how inhumane these conditions were. He hoped Hugo was okay, he thought as he passed through before stopping in front of some metal bars, squinting to see in the darkness a familiar silhouette. “Hugo.” he whispered, the blonde’s head quickly turning as he stood and ran to the bars, his relieved smile glowing under the light of Varian’s glowing test tube. 

  “You came back.” His voice rasped as Varian unlocked the cell. Hugo immediately swung his arms around the boy and spun him around in a circle, picking him up with his hands on his waist. “Oh my stars, I’m so glad you’re okay. With the way Eugene yelled at you, I thought you were in trouble.” He breathed a sigh of relief before he set the younger boy down, his hands resting on his shoulders. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner about me and my past. I swear I was going to, but of course Eugene and-”

  Varian cut off the older’s apology with a kiss to his lips, his way of showing his acceptance to it. “As lovely as it is to listen to your voice, we have to go now before someone realises I’m gone. I want to be with you, Hugo. Now come on, we have to go.” he prompted as the pair ran past the prison cells and out into the cool air of the night, hand in hand and ready to face whatever was thrown at them.

[amphxtrite]

hey there! golden trio era, please! my name is miliane, but i go by millie or liane. i’m a ravenclaw, 5”4, i have long dark brown hair, and light morena skin. i have brown eyes. i’m an asian, filipino but i’m fluent in english more than my mother tongue, seeing as i was raised with people who only talks to me in english, but im just as good in filipino, like any other person born here. i’m a weasley simp, no surprise there seeing as they’re all charming and good looking. i’m a sarcastic and witty person, a bit cocky when with friends, but i’m really a softie tbh, i care deeply about the people i love. i’m an INFP-T, so kinda explains. i love eating, although it would seem as i may never become fat, bc of my body complexion. i love to read! like i have tons of novels perked up in my study table, 20 and counting. i love anything connected to arts; music, movies, paintings, drawing. my sense of style is appreciated, like i rlly love styling my clothes, and even if we’re going somewhere unimportant and simple, it would never not give me a reason to be extra ;) but i shift to different styles every now and then, looking for the right one as i’m indecisive sometimes. i tend to be rlly shy when i’m around new people, and i usually have to spend a good amount of time with them for me to be myself around them. i love spreading awareness about societal issues, it’s a big part of my life and i’ve been spreading about them ever since i was 12, i keep on learning each day about it and discuss it on socmed. i have trust issues, due to some past problems, and once i get past that with someone, it would shift to abandonment issues (friend, or relationship wise). i would love a guy who’s gonna be willing to put up with my impulsive bs sometimes lol, like sneaking out in the middle of the night to eat at the kitchens, watch movies together and dance like we’re the only ones left. he wouldn’t force anything out of me til he and i know that i’m ready. and i would rlly love if he would give me one or two of his hoodies, and he would spray them with his cologne bc he knows that i love the way he smells, and maybe sneak in a small note for me to read in the pockets. i love forehead and nose kisses, i’m a goner for those. pet names are one of my weaknesses, (love, lovely, darling, babe, baby)— and i’m yours. i’m not much of an affectionate person as i didn’t have much of it during my childhood, so simple handholding and hugs would make me a bit flustered and awkward but very much appreciated.

thank you, i hope you have a great day, i rlly appreciate u for doing this, ily and all ur works <33333

Thank you for the details, they make these so much easier to write lol.

i ship you with...

Fred Weasley.

how you meet

“Miliane, you’ll be partnering up with Fred for our next assignment, please take a seat next to him.” Professor McGonagall smiles as you pick up your book bag and make your way next to the red head she must have been referring too.

Fred was busy tinkering away at something under his desk when you sat next to him. He lifted his head expecting his twin, but instead came eye to eye with a girl. Dreamy brown eyes and a blue tie on your neck, Fred loses his train of thought as concern adorns your face.

“Oh my apologies, I’m fred. What’s your name darling?” He smiles as your face tints a faint pink and your lips pull up into a gentle grin.

“Miliane, but please, call me Millie. We’re partners for the project.” You nod towards the blackboard at the front of the classroom.

“Well then Millie, we better get to work then.” Fred grins, pulling his wand from his pocket as you pull out a textbook.

For the rest of the period you and Fred do your best at the project, practicing your incantations and wand movement as McGonagall writes on the board.

You find it hard to concentrate at the task at hand with Fred constantly trying to make you laugh. Transfiguring flowers from the tip of his wand, throwing paper balls at his brother’s back and just joking with you quietly. You weren’t complaining though, it was nice to get a break from the work load you got from each of your classes.

After that transfiguration class, the two of you meet up often in the library, though it turns into more of a hangout than a study session. You roam the shelves and you show Fred your favourite books and poems as he tries to balance as many books as he can on his head. Often times you’ll relax at one of the library tables in between the shelves to drink pumpkin juice and eat sweets over conversations about anything and everything and in a heartbeat, Fred realizes he’s falling in love.

He fell for your sarcastic jokes and your soft personality. He loves your passion for reading and the arts, he could listen to your reading voice for hours.

Fred adores your sense of style and has awkwardly asked you to style him before

Even before you’re dating he gives you his sweaters when ever you’re cold

it becomes a habit to spray them in extra cologne because he knows how much you like it

When he notices you getting a little distant from him, he hugs you close and reassures you he isn’t going anywhere. You eventually tell him about your past and how it hurt you

It got him in quite a few fights, but he was willing to go any lengths to show the assholes who made you cry who they were dealing with.

Fred took his time to prove himself as a friend before a lover, he knew you fell and got hurt quickly in your past relationships and he wouldn’t let that be the case with him.

He joins you in your midnight snack runs whenever you ask of him. He even enchants his alarm to wake him if you were ever on your way to the kitchens at night

The two of you feast on desserts and left over dinner from the day as the house elf’s just kind of giggle at the two of you.

He loves calling you petnames and he knows you love them. Your face goes the most beautiful red and he can’t help but drop it into every sentence

“How are you love?”

“Darling you’ve got something on your face.”

“You look stunning love.”

“my darling have you seen my tie?”

He does his best to make lasting memories with you even on the most ordinary of days

“c’mon millie!” Fred laughs as he pulls you through the halls of the school to the empty courtyard before gathering you into his arms and waltzing you around the yard like it was the Yule. “Freddie, we’re going to get caught!” You laugh, rolling your eyes, but allowing yourself to be twirled around the square. “See if I care darling. For all I know, we’re the only ones here.” He chuckles, speeding up your dance until your dizzy from spins and laughing with joy.

Leaving little notes for you in his hoodie pockets and in the pages of your books became a fun little activity he came up for you. They ranged from ‘I miss you.’ to ‘remember to give it back so i can spray more cologne on it.’ You kept every note

Sometimes he’ll have you help him with his tie in the morning just so he can see your cheeks light up and your eyes darting back and forth trying not to make direct eye contact as he stares lovingly at you

Hugs. He’s a sucker for hugs and he loves it when you kind of just muzzle closer to him. He likes to pepper little kisses across your temple

One night he takes you stargazing and simply holds your hand as the two of you stare up at the stars

A shooting star passes and he sees your eyes close to make a wish

He dies the same and when you open them again you turn to Fred

“What did you wish for darling?”

“I-I wished for happiness what about you Freddie?”

“I wished for you darling.” He smirk, bringing his face closer to yours.

“I’m right here silly.”

“Not like that Millie. I wished for you to be my girl. My lover.” Fred sighs, inching closer

“Can I kiss you?” He smiles, gazing into your brown eyes.

“Yes Freddie, you may.”

Fred connects your lips together in a slow kiss, smiling as you respond quickly and cup his face in your hand.

You pull back to smile and cuddle closer to Fred’s chest as his arms wrap around you and he kisses your hairline.

“you’re mine darling.” Fred teases lightly almost in disbelief

“I’m yours Freddie.” you giggle, pressing kisses up Fred’s jawline.

Hope you like this!!🤍🤍

[fellerya]

Heart of Darkness \\ Chapter 1

Rating: Mature

Category: F/M

Fandom: Marvel

Relationship: Loki Laufeyson/Original Female Character

Characters: Loki Laufeyson, Thor Odinson, Lady Frigga, Odin, Original Characters

Tags: Fluff and smut, original character(s), relationship(s)

Language: English

Summary: All over the world, there is no god that would be equal to her in beauty - neither among people nor among gods. At the same time, her heart is so soft, so overwhelmed with a tenderness that she sympathizes with the suffering of everyone.

Heart of Darkness | Chapter 1

You swept your gaze across the large dance hall of King Odin’s castle. The gold was polished, sparkling against the fire that crackled in torches throughout the walls. The flowers you had set up, the blues and whites and purples, mixed sweetly together in an arch at one end of the room, behind the chairs that Odin, Frigga, Thor, and Loki would sit. Your gaze continued to sweep, checking on all of the arrangements you had made in the past several days.

You were commissioned by Odin himself to make the room shine and give off a floral fragrance. A smell Frigga herself loved. There were roses, white and pink, irises in blues. Orchids and carnations in various colors. They were set neatly under each torch on the wall. On the backs of chairs, as centerpieces. Almost every inch of space was covered in flowers, but flowers was something you spoke specifically with Frigga about personally. You have learned over the weeks of quiet talks with her about which flowers and colors and smells she adored and which she could live without. She was a kind woman, and you were proud to show her the decorations surrounding her.

The hall was stuffed with people milling about, drinks in their hands, arms entwined with their company. Odin and Frigga were seated in their seats far away from you, whispering quietly to themselves. You could see they were alone, and that Frigga was pointing out some of the decorations to Odin.

“Excuse me a moment,” you murmured to your friends, Daggi and Ossi. They blinked at you but quickly turned their gazes back to their company, smiling and laughing loudly. As you made your way to the King and Queen, you noticed the princes were nowhere to be found.

Chairs and tables were set along the outside of the room, while the center of the great hall was a large space for dancing. Many people lingered there, dancing in a slow waltz across the floor. You stuck to the sidelines of the floor, trying to stay out of everyone’s way and getting to your destination before losing sight of them again.

As you finally made your way to the table, Odin had disappeared, and you sighed, but smiled sweetly when Frigga spoke. “Ah, hello dear. Odin tells me you were the one to set up this beautiful hall.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” You curtseyed quickly, eyes downcast.

“They are quite lovely. I thank you for such hard work.” She smiled, standing and slowly moving her way around the table to come to your side. You stood, watching her. “Thank you for making my birthday smell of such a lovely fragrance.” She murmured, setting her hand on your bare shoulder.

You smiled, placing your hand over hers. “You are very welcome, Frigga.”

“I hope you are enjoying the party?” She pulled her hand away and stepped towards the center of the room. Head high, back straight.

“Oh, I am.” Lie. You stepped forward to walk just beside her. “Where are your sons?” You asked, looking about the room once again.

“Oh, about…” she seemed distracted, and stopped at the edge of the dancing floor. “You should go back to enjoying yourself dear. I thank you again for the beautiful room.” She turned to you, smiling.

“I will. You’re welcome, and happy birthday, Your Highness.” You curtseyed for her again, gathering your gold-colored dress in your hands, your brown eyes casting to the floor and your light hair falling over your shoulders.

Frigga walked away then, heading off across the room. You watched her go, and out of the corner of your eye you saw a group of people whisper, gathering up closely and looking at a specific spot in the room.

You moved to look past them, at whatever had caught their attention, and noticed the brothers walking into the room. Thor, with his long golden hair and red cape. You noticed his hammer was not with him, a surprise, at best. But then, you realized, it was a party today. What would the hammer be needed for?

And beside him, the dark-haired brother that shared no resemblance to the family. His blue eyes striking against the green and gold of his armor. The large, golden horns sitting atop his head, casting him with a menacing look. You blinked, noticing a spear in his hand, wondering what the purpose was, but perhaps it was just a comfort to have it with him.

Whereas Thor was talkative and loved the ladies, Loki on the other hand was quiet and observant. You spotted him many times while walking through the halls of the castle to set up this room, but had been none the wiser to see you as he stalked past in what seemed like a rush to wherever he was going.

You looked at him now, curious. You, Daggi and Ossi liked to speak about the brothers, but Thor had always been the one brought up. Silly crushes, silly daydreams of catching the eye of the golden-haired brother. But never of Loki. Never have they spoken about the quiet brother, the outcast. You realized now, while standing there, watching their eyes look about the room, that you wanted to know more about the brother. You wanted to know what people thought of the dark-haired son of Odin.

Daggi and Ossi made their way to you, giggling like a couple of young girls. “Isn’t he handsome as ever, Ossi?” Daggi asked, loudly, and far too enthusiastic. You flinched, aware that you were only several yards away from the brothers. Daggi’s dark hair and dark eyes were glued to Thor, looking him up and down. Ossi was on your other side, almost a twin to Daggi, but not really. They were a year apart, and Ossi had light hair and blue eyes. “Oh, yes, sister.” You heard her respond, biting her lip.

Thor’s gaze had gone to the three of you, and a large grin spread across his face. He clearly had heard what they said. You wanted to shake your head, turn around and hide, but your gaze locked with Loki’s as Thor nudged him in the side, pointing to us.

You seemed lost in time as his blue eyes looked over you. You became flushed and finally pushed away from the sisters. “I need some air,” you murmured, making your way around the group of people and walking out a different door from the one the brothers had walked through. You needed space.

You never admitted it to anyone, but Loki had always fascinated you. Whether it was his quiet nature, or maybe the way those blue eyes pierced anything he looked at. But you always seemed enchanted when his name was even mentioned. And you heard about him a lot when you worked during the day.

You kept up with the castle’s flower beds. You took care of the flowers surrounding the grounds, the ones throughout the castle walls and in the halls. And when you weren’t tending to them, you were sketching them. Your long skirt would spread around you as you sat, staring intently on each flower you sketched.

It was how Frigga had found you one day, mind lost in a sea of time as you sketched and stared.

“Well, hello there, dear.” She had said, walking up behind you.

You jumped, slamming the book shut and spinning to face her. “Oh! Your Highness!” You scrambled to your feet, brushing the dirt off your skirt and bowing quickly. “I’m so sorry for being distracted while on the job. It won’t happen again.” You remained bowed, too startled to look back up at her.

“Oh, it’s no worry, dear. Everyone deserves a chance to breathe in this beautiful scent...what were you drawing?” She asked, her voice quiet and gentle. You finally looked up, her gaze interested, staring at the book in your hands.

You flushed and pulled the book open, turning it around to face her. “The flowers, Your Majesty. I like to sketch them sometimes.” You smiled.

“Those are lovely,” she remarked, turning away and heading to a pink rose bush. She laid her hand under one, sniffing it slowly. “I love roses,” she commented, “pinks and whites specifically.” She looked at you, a kind look on her face. “I thank you for all your hard work. The flowers in the castle make the days a little brighter thanks to you.”

You bowed again, “thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty,” a man would come around the flower bush. “Prince Loki is looking for you,” he continued, standing straight, poised. “He is in the dining hall.”

“Thank you,” she replied. She turned to you once more and nodded, “continue to take such care of these gentle beauties, will you?” She asked, before turning away and heading towards the dining hall with the guard on her heels.

You were on a balcony overlooking the same rose bush now. The sky sparkling with the planets and stars above you. You breathed in deeply, closing your eyes. That memory had occurred several months ago, before Odin had spoken to you about Frigga’s upcoming party. Since then, you have been fascinated to learn more about her son Loki. She had seen Thor around, loud and happy as always, but never Loki. It wasn’t until she overheard some of the people in town mention his dark hair and armor colors that she understood the man she had seen about the grounds was Loki himself. They had never spoken, never seen each other at the same time.

Not until tonight. You opened your eyes, locked on a single star far in the sky.

Loki had locked eyes with you. A mere Asgardian.

[huntress1024]

Crashing the Masquerade: (Tyril x MC)

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2k

Summary: This is my first ever fanfic, and it’s just how I imagined the Blades gang getting ready for the masquerade! I love the dynamic of their group!! 😊 lemme know if you want to be tagged!

Taglist: @queerbrujas​

Nia chatters excitedly as Adrina braids her hair, “Just imagine! The music, the lights, the magic!” She bounces up and down at the vanity and Adrina almost pokes her with a pearl hair pin as a result.

Imtura, already in her elegant forest green and gold ensemble, scowls from the window seat. “You do realize we’re on a mission tonight, right Nia? We can’t exactly dance the night away while simultaneously waiting for a murderer to strike.”

I expect Nia to blush in her typical fashion, but I am absolutely surprised when she turns in her seat to grin at Imtura. “You look too lovely to be so cross tonight, Immy. Has it crossed your mind that we can do both?”

Our orc companion gapes, before quickly recovering and muttering under her breath, “I am going to kill Mal.” She aggressively tugs at the dress’s waistline for the third time in five minutes.

I laugh and motion for her to stand and turn around. “You have to admit, it’s a cute nickname. And Mal says it with love.” My long, nimble fingers make quick work of the gold lacings at her lower back, loosening them ever so slightly. “Better?”

She breathes a huge sigh of relief. “Much.” With a wicked glint in her eyes, she gives me a pat on the back that leaves me winded from her orc strength. “Thanks, Zammy.”

Nia clamps a hand over her mouth, but a giggle escapes anyway. I roll my eyes at the joke. “That will never catch on.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s rather catchy.” Mal waltzes in the room unannounced, Threep perched comfortably on his shoulder. 

He wears a dusty charcoal jacket with coattails, gold plating running along the shoulders, arms, and belt area. A marble mask covers half of his face, adorned with a gold wing. The look is distinctly Mal, bold and daring, but refined and noble as well. He winks at me, catching my eye. “Well? Do I pass for a snooty noble?”

I laugh, nodding appreciatively at his look. “I don’t think snooty is in your genes, but yes, you look great. Threep, did you help him with this?”

The nesper, smug as ever, flaps his wings in a haughty manner as he gives Mal a once-over. “Indeed. Perhaps you will learn to respect my wisdom, Valori.”

Mal scoffs, dropping Threep in Imtura’s arms. “That’ll be the day. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m gonna go check on elf boy.”

Usually I would laugh at the joke, but instead my heart clenches, thinking of the current state Tyril must be in. “Has anyone been able to talk to him yet?” Mal, Nia, Imtura, and Threep sadly shake their heads, and I sigh in disappointment. On our party’s trek back from the catacombs, I had tried to come up with something to say, but what could possibly have been said to erase the agony he was feeling? I opted for silence instead, staying by his side the whole time. He had brushed his fingers against mine before he headed to his quarters to prepare for the masquerade, and I have not seen or heard from him since.

Mal gives me a dry smile, trying to cheer me up. “I’ll just tease him about whatever the hell he’s wearing. His pompous, stick-in-the-mud attitude that we all know, and love will come back, trust me.” He snatches an apple from the bowl on the vanity before leaving the room. I turn away from Threep’s praise of Imtura’s dress and her mumbled retorts to join Nia and Adrina at the vanity as the Lady of House Starfury recounts stories from previous masquerades. “Last year, the gorgeous Lord of House Moonfall asked me to dance. Three times.”

Nia gasps, delighted. “Really? What was he like?”

Adrina chuckles, smiling at the faraway memory. “Oh, we hardly talked. I was so nervous to be in his presence that I couldn’t seem to get two words out. And he was such an excellent dancer, I did not want to say anything that would ruin the moment. I would have danced with him all night if I could, but Tyril scolded me, telling me it was ‘improper’ to not switch partners after an extended period of time.”

“Well, hopefully he’ll be singing a different tune after tonight,” I say, smirking. “I don’t intend to let go of him.”

Adrina tips her head back, cackling. “Oh, that will be a sight to see. Tyril is horribly proper when it comes to public appearances, but if anyone can help him loosen up, it’s you Zamira.” She places the final pin in Nia’s fiery braid, then offers her a hand to help her rise from the chair. Nia squeals at the sight of herself, twirling and letting the voluminous skirt fly around her. “I look like a princessss!!” She exclaims, dancing a little jig that has Adrina and me laughing.

���You look stunning, Nia.” The dress features various shades of blue, from sheer mint long sleeves to a cerulean corset, and indigo and navy skirts that give a starry twinkle when she moves. Embroidered flowers and vines grow along the dress, and her blue and gold mask compliments her lovely golden-brown skin. “Lords won’t be able to take their eyes off of you!”

She blushes delicately, giving me a bashful smile. “I do not know about that, but I’m flattered all the same.” Her meek mood dissipates as she shoots me a mischievous grin that is surprisingly more Mal Valori than Nia Ellarious. Perhaps he is finally corrupting her, I muse before Nia interrupts my thoughts. “Besides, you and I both know there is one lord who will be positively indisposed tonight when he sees a certain lady.”

Now I’m the one who is blushing, but I refuse to let a bloody priestess know she got the better of me. I feel my face trying to suppress the pleased beam that threatens to take over, but it’s no use as I reply, “Hmm. I don’t know who you’re referring to, but I’ll take the compliment nonetheless.”

“No one will be ogling you tonight if you go in that horrid potato sack of a dress,” Threep says matter-of-factly, sniffing the intimidating golden horns from the shoulders of Imtura’s dress. “Just out of curiosity, are these tipped with poison? It would make for an excellent weapon against Kaya tonight.”

Imtura gapes, outraged. “That was an option? Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”

“Can we come back to the ‘potato sack’ comment?” I snap, glaring at Threep. “Tell me, Oh Wise One, whatever shall I wear to satisfy you?”

Completely oblivious to the sarcasm, he straightens his posture in Imtura’s arms, studies me with that wide and unblinking stare of his, and definitively replies, “Butterflies.”

Okay, I was not expecting that. “Um, is that supposed to be a color?” I ask lamely.

“No, you simpleton. Butterflies signify transformation, renewal, light. For you, Zamira, I find it a very fitting concept.” Adrina immediately leaves the room, shooting me an excited smile over her shoulder while doing so.

“It’s true!” Nia chimes in encouragingly, taking my rough hands into her soft ones. “You’ve come such a long way from the girl I met in Riverbend who just wanted to escape and go on an adventure.”

I blush at her words and give her a playful push. “You’ve come a long way too, Priestess. I wouldn’t even know how to use my Light if it weren’t for you. Scholar Vash would be proud.” Her eyes brim with tears at my words, and I give her a hug, brief but strong. A light breeze brushes my skin, and I turn to see Adrina proudly holding a dress to me, and my heart stops at the sight. “Oh, Adrina…you shouldn’t have.”

She shakes her head, pushing the dress towards me. “Nonsense. You have done so much for my brother in these past few months, and I cannot properly express my gratitude for it, but this will have to do for now.”

If not for the excitement already bubbling inside of me, the hopeful spark in her eyes would have done me in.  I gently take the dress from her hands, nodding in thanks, and duck behind the changing screen. The dress is easy to put on, and I am pleasantly surprised by how light and airy it feels against my skin. I step out shyly from behind the screen, and Nia, Adrina, Imtura, even Threep gasp at the sight of me.

The dress is composed of a faint sky-blue tulle fabric, the color strongest at the bodice and slowly fading to a white with subtle traces of lavender and pink when the light catches it so. It is sleeveless, but on each shoulder a flower in the very same shade as the lavender accents pin tulle identical to the color of the dress so that it flows behind me like a cape. True to Threep’s word, lavender and cerulean butterflies grace the waistline and front of the dress. I feel ethereal in this dress with the colors of a dawn sky, a delightful contrast to my dark skin, and I grin at Adrina, hoping it is enough to convey how much I love it. It works, for she smiles back and makes quick work of my white hair to pin it into a regal low bun, and adds the finishing touch to the ensemble: a lace silver mask inset with crystals that spans across my face and ends just at my nose.

Imtura breaks the silence first, lips curling in mischief. “I’m no fashion expert, but ladies…I’d say we’re ready to piss off some pretentious elves!” She lets out a cheer, passing Threep to Adrina before charging from the room, not even checking to see if Nia and I follow before she leaps onto the crumbling banister and speeds downward to the once grand foyer. I give Nia a shrug before linking my arm with hers, ad we say a quick farewell to Adrina and Threep before descending the staircase to join Imtura and, not originally noticing him from his veiled position in the shadows until we hear the unmistakable scolding voice belonging to no other, Tyril.

“While I am aware of your opinion towards my kind, I implore you to behave in a manner tonight that will not add to their suspicion of us. We will need as few eyes on us as possible if we are going to succeed in obtaining the Scepter.”

“You mean fewer eyes than the ones openly judging you for showing your face around here and bringing the riff raff into Undermount’s pearly gates? Gee, Tyril, you always ask so little of us, somewhat of a challenge would be appreciated,” Imtura snaps, words dripping in sarcasm from her fangs.

Tyril sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before continuing, “Please. Just try. After tonight, you can drop kick as many of my people as you would like, but tonight, do try to be civil.”

“I think you mean our people,” I say teasingly, trying to lighten the mood once Nia and I have reached the bottom step. Tyril, completely unaware of our descent during his tense exchange with Imtura, snaps to attention and turns to greet us, lips pressed in a tense line before they part in a mesmerized “Oh” at the sight of me. Normally I would glow with pride under his stare, but I’m too busy trying to keep my own mouth from dropping in kind as I take in his appearance.

The outfit bears similarities in style to his everyday armor on our journey, but the colors are pure Starfury. He poses a striking figure in the royal blue and silver armor that extends from his chest to his abdomen, a magnificent steel belt with a royal blue gemstone in the center to accent it all. His shoulders and forearms are adorned in imposing armor the color of an angry sea, and a stormy grey cape clasped by a brooch across his chest. His mask is pure silver encrusted with sapphires and crystals, only accentuating his piercing blue eyes even more. Lord Starfury indeed. It wasn’t hard to imagine him hosting parties and being a prominent political figure in the Undermount hierarchy, not in this outfit where he was the embodiment of a lightning storm.

In a surprise reversal of roles, I am the one at a loss for words, and he is reveling in the idea. My blood rushes through my body as he bows before me, taking my hand and kissing it with such reverence and admiration before meeting my eyes and pulling his lips away, murmuring “My lady” against my skin in a manner that has me blushing furiously. I move to stand beside him, intertwining my fingers with his, grateful for his presence and leadership, despite everything he must be feeling after the catacombs. I squeeze his hand, hoping to express that and more to him, and when he squeezes back, I know he understands.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Mal calls as he saunters down the staircase, smirking at the sight of us all waiting for him.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for the dramatic entrance type,” Imtura crows, sticking a foot out in an attempt to trip him as he steps down from the last one, which he deftly hops over.

“What can I say? I’m an insufferable ass.” He offers his left arm for Nia, and his right one for Imtura. “Hope you ladies can tolerate me as escort for tonight.”

Nia curls her fingers around his arm, giggling. “Of course, Mal the Magnificent.”

The rogue turns to me and Tyril with a triumphant glint in his eyes. “See? It was only a matter of time before it caught on!”

In typical Tyril fashion, my elven escort gives an annoyed humph. “I’d sooner be corrupted by the Shadow Court than call you that.”

“Ah. I see even a party can’t loosen up Tyril the Tyrant.”

Even hidden by the mask, I can see Tyril’s sculpted eyebrows rising in horror as he splutters, “Wha—How dare yo—”

Nia, ever the peacekeeper, gracefully interjects “Oh, look, there’s the carriage!” And with that, our party of five sets off into the night, ready to crash a ball.

[chroniclackofselfpreservation]

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 5 - or did i snag you on my sharper edges

Back to the Beginning   < Previous chapter / Next chapter >   

AO3

Masterlist

(TW: some negative thinking and graphic(ish) imagery)

(The title for this chapter comes from "Secrets" by Lola Ridge.)

The rain came down in torrents, drenching everything in sight—including Roman. The serpent was silent, deliberating his words. Roman fidgeted in the snake's hold, simply wanting the ordeal to be over. He paused. What was going to happen once the deal was made? They'd sit a talk for the rest of the night? What about after that? Simply being told how to break the curse didn't mean he'd have any way readily available to do it. How long would it take? Would he still have to fight the demon every night until he figured it out?

Roman began to shiver with cold. The slick, metal-like scales wrapping around him weren't helping either. The demon didn't radiate any heat, in fact, it seemed to be seeping what little warmth Roman's body had been clinging to with every passing second.

"Very well," it hissed, releasing him. Roman collapsed to his knees from both relief and exhaustion, mud and water soaking through his clothes. Being terrified took a lot out of a person, he found. Looking up, he pushed his wet hair up and out of his eyes, watching as the serpent coiled in on itself, forming a tight ball. A hair-raising crack split the air, and for a moment Roman thought lightning had struck, but there was no flash of light.

The snake was gone.

Roman blinked a few times, wondering if the darkness was simply playing tricks on his eyes. He thought he saw...

"Haven't been in this body for... at least a few centuries. How do you all stand it? So restrictive," a new voice tutted from the direction the demon had once been. A figure cloaked in shadow approached Roman, footsteps squishing through the muddy grass. A quick snap, and an orb of golden light erupted into being. Roman gasped, and shielded his eyes. The sudden light startled him, and it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. Blinking, he saw a man standing before him, glowing sphere of amber light bobbing above his outstretched right hand, illuminating only half of his face. He wore a fancy suit and caplet about his shoulders that looked perfectly dry despite the torrential downpour around them. Atop his head sat a bowler hat as black as the night around it, and thin yellow gloves covered his hands.

"Where did... who are...?" he muttered, still trying to wrap his foggy head around what had just happened.

The man approached him and, crouching down, brought the light to his chest. Roman gasped as the rest of his face came into view.

He smirked and tipped his hat. "You may call me Dorian. Now, let's make this deal, shall we?"

                                           * * * * * * * * * *

Roman held his hands out to a sputtering fire, sitting in tense silence across from the stranger who had once been a demon. Firelight flickered across the strange scales plating the left half of his face. His outfit was odd as well. Roman hadn't seen anything like it anywhere... in modern times at least. He didn't know the last time he—it? Dorian?—had interacted with the outside world.

"Are you sufficiently warmed?" Dorian asked, looking him over with that terrifying eye that only reminded Roman of what this apparent human once was. What he really was.

He nodded.

"Don't lie to me," Dorian chided, "I will not be making a deal with a child halfway to the grave with hypothermia."

"I'm n-not a child," Roman said, wishing his teeth hadn't chattered as he did. Truth be told, his clothes were still soaked, and the fire only did so much for the front half of him. The wind whipping through the cave still drew heat from his back. Sighing, Dorian flourished a hand his direction, and Roman shrieked, in a very manly way, as warm air suddenly buffeted him from all sides, drying him instantly.

"Better?"

"...Yes," Roman said, even managing a small noise that somewhat resembled "thank you."

"Very well, if that's all in order," the demon said as if he were arranging important papers on a desk, "Let us discuss the terms of this contract. First, my side of the bargain: I do hereby swear to reveal all knowledge regarding the dissolving of said party's current magical restraints—what's wrong? Am I going to fast?"

"What? No, it's just..." Roman grappled with what he was trying to say without getting himself killed. "This isn't how these things usually go."

Dorian cocked an eyebrow. "And how many magical contract signings have you been a part of, pray tell?"

Roman's ears grew red and he stammered, "Well... one, but it wasn't—I mean, I guess they don't all have to be the same, I just assumed that it would—that you'd do it like Ursula with the whole blood ritual... thingy."

The demon's face twitched with an emotion that Roman couldn't have named if you'd put a gun to his head. Maybe it was a magical demon thing? Regardless, Dorian shook his head ever so slightly and took a breath.

"No. This contract will not contain any blood rituals. Just parchment and ink—and a little magic for binding purposes, of course." Another wave of his hand, and a scroll of yellow paper that Roman would have sooner seen in a museum than in someone's hand and a bottle of ink with a large black feather sticking out of it appeared on the ground next to him. He picked the scroll up and unfurled it. "Now, back to what I was saying. Where was I? Ah, yes..." he rambled on, explaining the contract with a bunch of strange magic-jargon, and Roman hadn't the slightest clue as to their meaning. He could have Roman agreeing to pull out all of his teeth and make them into a necklace for all he knew. Dorian paused once more, looking down his nose at Roman with exasperation.

"What is it now?"

"I have no idea what you just said," he admitted.

The man sighed and set the scroll down. "Okay, listen. I will tell you everything you need to know to break this curse, and how to keep it from happening to anyone else, but in return I need you to kill the immortal witch-traitor Ursula."

Roman paled. "You're joking."

Dorian rolled his eyes, "While I doubt a truth-telling spell necessary, if you insist..." He held out his left arm and the sleeve of his suit pulled up, revealing more scales like those on his face.

"What are you talking about?"

Dorian scoffed, "What am I—what are you talking about? Are you really going to keep up this charade even now? Honestly, I thought it was insulting earlier, but really... wait you're serious? You don't know about your powers?" He looked genuinely taken aback.

Roman laughed. "Yeah, because if I had powers, I'd definitely not use them while fighting a giant snake-demon."

Dorian's previous unintelligible expression degraded into udder disbelief. "You're telling me she didn't even tell you?"

"Obviously not."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Okay... okay, okay, okay, this is fine. I can work with his. An heir with no knowledge of his power. This is.... this is a disaster."

"Your vote of confidence is overwhelming," Roman grumbled.

Dorian stood, and Roman felt his fear return. He'd almost forgotten who he was talking to. It was easier when he looked semi-human.

"This dawn is almost here. Return home, little prince, and tomorrow, we'll finish this conversation... We've got a long way to go."

                                           * * * * * * * * * *

"Blackbird singin' in the dead of night," Patton sung softly to himself as he waltzed around the kitchen looking for a spatula. Pancakes rose tall and fluffy on the griddle and if Patton didn't hurry, they'd get a little more brown than golden. He located the plastic utensil after a few seconds of looking, finding it in the wrong drawer. Virgil must have emptied the dishwasher, the little angel. Patton found it more endearing than annoying. At least he'd tried to help, right? Glancing at the clock on the oven face as he flipped the pancakes, he found it was nearly eight o'clock. Roman would be out of the shower soon, and Logan would be—

That's right, Patton thought with a soft smile, stealing a look at the figure passed out on the couch. Fallen asleep studying again. Honestly, what was the point of having a bedroom if Logan was going to stay up into the unearthly hours of the night and just sleep on the couch? Truthfully, however, Patton found it just a smidgen adorable, but he wouldn't tell Logan that. He was sure Logan would sooner eat his fork than be told he snored like a kitten. He looked out the kitchen window, and sighed. It was raining—he suspected it had been through the night given how flooded their garden was. He hoped it wouldn't affect his herbs too much; he was planning on making spaghetti tonight and if he only had wilted oregano, what was the point?

"Take these broken wings and learn to fly..." The pancakes were done. Time to figure out where Virgil had left the syrup. "All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to ar—Roman!" Patton squeaked and nearly dropped the powdered sugar container, finding him leaning against the bottom of the banister, a strange look on his face. "I didn't hear you come down," he chuckled, a little embarrassed.

"What song was that?"

"...You don't know Blackbird? It's pretty popular, or, I guess, it was. I'm not too up-to-date on my music, kiddo."

Roman considered for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I've definitely heard it before, I guess it just sounds different when you sing it." He walked over and pulled out a stool, still lost in thought. Patton watched him with a hint of concern as he plated and served the pancakes.

"Will you do me a favor, Ro, and go wake Logan up? He's just over there on the couch."

"He's on the—oh, for crying out loud," he groaned, standing and sauntering over. He leaned forward and flicked the tip of Logan's nose. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Nerdy." Logan jerked awake, cracking his forehead against Roman's. They both curled in on themselves, hissing and blinking tears from their eyes.

"You did that on purpose," Roman grumbled, stumbling back to the counter.

Logan squinted at him, "You're home."

"Yes, of course I'm home, Logan. Where else would I be?" he snapped, in a little too much pain for patience at the moment.

"Logan, if you don't start going to bed at a reasonable hour in your own room, I'm going to have to ground you," Patton said with a smile.

Logan sat up, rubbing his head. "You do know you're not actually my father, Patton. Right? I'm a year older than you."

"Don't you go talking back to me, young man." Patton waved the spatula Logan's direction, and couldn't help but notice the small smile gracing his face at his words.

Roman speared a piece of pancake and ate it viciously. "I can't believe you stayed up again."

"Oh, that's figuratively rich, coming from you," Logan retorted.

"Hey, hey, what's going on, guys?" Patton said, unplugging the griddle and setting out Logan and Virgil's plates. The latter had yet to show face this morning, but Patton figured he'd be down any minute. "Did something happen between you two?"

Roman snorted, "You could say that."

"It's nothing to concern yourself with, Patton. Thank you for your concern, but we can deal with it on our own."

"...Okay," he said, a little put out. He understood that it really wasn't much of his business whatever they were arguing about, but he couldn't help wanting to assist in some way. Otherwise, he felt sorta useless. It wasn't like he did much else around here other than cook and clean and work with his mom at the nursing home. There, it was his job to help people with their problems, or talk things out with them, or keep them company. There, he was needed.

The backdoor opened suddenly and a sopping wet Virgil stepped over he threshold, trembling like a leaf.

"Virgil!" Patton cried, rushing forward. "Oh my—why were you outside? How long have you been—" he stammered.

He numbly tried to pull away from Patton's worried hands. "I'm f-fine, Pat. I'm fine, I just—let go!" he barked, and Patton jerked away, shocked.

"I... I'm sorry, Virge. I was only trying to help," he said, his voice small and quiet. Why was everyone so angry all of a sudden? Was it something he'd done? Virgil looked immediately regretful, his expression softening.

"I know, Patton, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled, it's just... I lost something really important to me last night."

Do you wanna talk about it? Patton wanted so desperately to ask, but didn't. He simply nodded, took Virgil's wet jacket from him and watched as he retreated upstairs to his room. Patton took a breath, put on a smile, and turned back to his other two roommates, who were having a silent conversation with their eyes. Swallowing, he placed Virgil's jacket in the laundry room to dry, then returned to the kitchen and ate his breakfast in silence.

                                           * * * * * * * * * *

Virgil didn't want to come back downstairs to eat after what had happened, even if he was ravenous. He'd spent the rest of the night searching with no results. He knew what he had to do, but dread sprouted in the pit of his stomach even thinking about it... and then he had to go and snap at Patton like that. He groaned and ran a hand down his face as he tossed his sopping clothes into his hamper and pulled on some clean, dry ones.

What am I going to do? he thought to himself, standing frozen with his hand on his doorknob. He'd have to go downstairs eventually, but what would he say? What could he say?

Reluctantly, Virgil exited his room and padded down the stairs in his socks. Logan was gone, presumably for work. The school year hadn't officially started yet, but all of the teachers were expected to come in and begin setting up their rooms and submitting their curriculum for review—something Logan found very tedious, and would talk any one of the roommate's ears off about. Roman sat alone at the kitchen, a bowl of cereal milk sitting in front of him with a few stray pieces of cereal evading his spoon.

Patton was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Ro," Virgil said, approaching. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" he replied, his smile just a little too perfect. Virgil wouldn't have been able to see through it, however, if he didn't already know what was really going on. It was strange, though. Roman usually had this hollow look in his eye, the hopelessness Virgil had only seen in those on their way to the gallows. Now... it was different. Still tired—tired beyond belief—but somehow...

"No reason," he said around the lump in his throat, forcing a small smile. Roman's brow knit together ever so slightly. Virgil swallowed and continued, "Where, uh... where's Patton?"

Roman's expression relaxed, as if he'd figured it all out. He jerked a thumb toward the back door. "His sitting out back."

Virgil nodded, expressing his thanks, and made his way outside. The breeze was in that in-between stage, where one could tell it had once been stifling and hot outside but the rain had cooled it like a burn under cold water. Patton sat on the end of the porch, his legs crossed and a mug of steaming tea cradled in both hands. Virgil closed the door as quietly as he possibly could, and stood in the doorway awkwardly, not knowing how, or really wanting to, break the silence.

Patton sighed, and tapped the space next to him with a hand. Virgil felt his throat close up, and briefly considered bolting back inside before steeling himself and taking the few steps forward and sitting next to his friend.

"Patt, listen, I'm really sorry about what happened this morning. I was really stressed, and I know that isn't an excuse for being mean, but I just—"

"It's all right, Virge," he said, gazing into his mug of tea with an expression that Virgil doubted meant: it's all right, Virge. But what could he do? He doubted there was really anything at this point that he could do besides keep talking and digging himself a little deeper into the hole he'd begun this morning. He wasn't good at words. Well, he had been quite the smooth-talker all those years ago, but ever since...

No. You promised not to think about that again, he scolded himself, tugging his jacket even tighter around him. That wasn't what he needed right now. Right now, he needed to make things up to Patton, and find what had been stolen from him.

He had to find his button.

                                           * * * * * * * * * *

Everyone but Virgil was gone. Patton had gone to work after a few more minutes of sitting in silence and pondering, and Roman had expressed a need to "clear his head" and had taken his truck out nearly thirty minutes ago. Finally with the privacy he so desperately needed, Virgil rummaged through the cupboards and drawers in the kitchen. Where did Patton keep all the herbs? He could never figure out where anything was in this blasted place. Eventually, he found it:

Rosemary. Or, as many from the Witchlands referred to it, Queensleaf; it was named after the first Witch Queen herself. Roman absolutely despised the smell, claiming it made his nose itch. Virgil found this quite ironic, but kept the comments to himself.

Dumping a pinch or two into the palm of his hand, Virgil replaced the lid, put it back in the cupboard, and headed outside to the backyard. Normally, he wouldn't take such precautions, but without his button, who knows what could happen? Sure, it was just a simple tracking spell, but one could never be too cautious... right? Biting the inside of his mouth—a habit he'd yet to shake, unfortunately—he approached the old pine tree and scattered the small sprigs around the dirt he'd hastily refilled last night before heading out on his frantic search. Hopefully, that would do the trick. Using Queensleaf during spell-making was considered paranoid and somewhat superstitious, but Virgil had seen things that would make even the most stoic witch stuff rosemary up their nose at the slightest hint of magic.

"Bid the earth till its ground, thus what's been lost soon is found," Virgil muttered, feeling the magic flow out of him in a sort of jerky, detached way. He withheld a shudder. He really needed his button back, and soon. Regardless, the Queensleaf seemed to do its job and the spell came out just as it should. The air around him stilled and everything went silent, as if he'd stepped into the shadow realm. His gaze was drawn downward by an unseen force and he watched as the imprints of a pair of feet made their way across the grass from around the side of the house. They stopped in the middle of the yard, turning around a few times. The top half of the right footprint disappeared and reappeared rapidly, as if the owner had been tapping their foot. A pause, then the footprints made a beeline for Virgil. He stepped to the side and watched with growing distaste as the footprints stopped right above the spot where they box, with his button, had been buried.

A small indentation appeared in the dirt next to the prints, and the thin lines of invisible fingers digging into the soil began scoring the ground. The thief had dropped something in the dirt before digging. Virgil stepped over the prints and squatted down to inspect the small disturbance more. Perhaps he could discover what it was they'd dropped? Unfortunately, the dirt hadn't acquired anything close to a clear imprint, and the pine needles scattered everywhere didn't help. From the looks of it, the object was about the size of a quarter, give or take a little, of course.

The faint click of the metal box's latch being undone snapped Virgil out of his thoughts. In the air, hovered the now empty metal box he'd reburied. Unknown hands hefted it, shaking it a little, then slowly opened the lid. Virgil watched, not having to imagine too hard to realize that this was the moment his button had been taken. The subsequent tossing of the box back into the hole and the sloppy foot shoving the dirt back on top then tamping it down for good measure didn't help his mood much, either. The prints did a little dance, then jerked to a stop. The ghosts of fingers frantically dusted away pine needles and pinched something up out of the dirt. A small puff of dust appeared in the air.

Virgil nearly shook with rage. They'd dropped his button in the dirt, and blown the dust off like it was some—some measly piece of plastic. As if it was just that, and not an important talisman literally tying all but the most basic of his magical abilities to his body.

Lips pressed together in barely contained frustration, Virgil followed the now obviously gleeful footprints across the lawn and around the house. It wasn't until he reached the edge of the front lawn, that he realized a major problem.

Footprints didn't exactly show up on cement and asphalt.

"Charge me now to seek the thief, let light shine forth and seal their grief," he muttered. Again, the magic came out halting and shuddering, but came out all the same. No one would be able to see the spell but him, so he wasn't too concerned about following a pair of now glowing footprints making their happy way down the street.

Virgil followed the trail in circles around town, ignoring the strange looks he got from the fellow townspeople going about their day. A few times, he almost got hit by a car when he became too focused and the path veered suddenly into the road. Was this thief drunk, or something? Surely, they'd stolen his button for a reason other than to prance around town with it. He still couldn't be sure Ursula was behind it, though. While she'd seem pleased at his misfortune, he couldn't prove it was more than that. Besides, while she seemed the most likely to do something like this, she was the least probable suspect. She was halfway across the world, for crying out loud.  

But who else could possibly know about it?

Actually, he thought sourly, there are quite a few people that come to mind. A witch, a hobgoblin, a few sprites... The list grew quite extensive the more Virgil thought about it, so he conveniently stopped thinking about it and focused on the task at hand. The prints wandered down the alley behind the Chinese restaurant, illuminating the otherwise dim surroundings. Virgil's nose wrinkled at the rancid smell of rotting food and watched with disgust as the glowing footprints—and now hand-prints—rummaged through the trash for, he assumed, something to eat.

The invisible hands picked up a styrofoam takeout box and...and took a bite out of the box itself.

Virgil's temper didn't boil over. No, rather, it simmered, and reduced down into a thick syrup of pure, white-hot rage. Fists clenched, he turned his back on the alley, and ended the spell with a furious wave of his hand.

"...Remus."

[darkmindsotome]

Folly

@xathia-89 this is for you my dear. 

This was a collaboration piece with @umbralaperture. Ikevamp story that turns very steamy and spicy so please read with caution. 

Warning: opulence, need, friendly “battle” a gentleman lost his mask. 

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Folly

It was safe to say that Le Comte has impeccable taste in clothing, even when he was eschewing tradition as he was with this selection. The jade satin dress had a luxurious emerald velvet trim. Cream-coloured lace inlaid with small beads of platinum accented the bodice, short sleeves and just above where the dress flared. Fine lace gloves that barely reached your wrists in a matching cream hue and an emerald green velvet choker completed the ensemble. Your hair, artfully styled in an updo, was accented with delicate satin flowers and pearls. Stepping into a beautifully handcrafted pair of satin slippers, you check yourself one more time in the full-length mirror before heading out of your room.

Leonardo waited for you at the door a gentle smile bowing his lips as you came into view. It was rare to see the inventor put together at all. Dressed sharply in his tuxedo with the shirt fully tucked in was enough to give you pause.

Still smiling, he lifts your gloved hand and places a kiss over the knuckles. "Cara Mia. You put any masterpiece to shame tonight. You look beautiful." His eyes glowed as they looked you over. Slipping an emerald velvet wrap around your shoulders, his gloved fingers feather across bare skin. "Wouldn’t want you catching a chill."

He extended his arm to you, and once you accepted, he led you to the waiting carriage. The gentlemanly grace was not something you were used to from Leo as he tended to hardly display much of it in practice. His gestures and movements had you enthralled.

"Leonardo, where are we going? Sebbie brought me the dress with a note that said 'It would please me to see you in this.' but nothing more."

Leo's enigmatic smile never faltered. "We're going to a ball, Cara Mia."

You pressed your lips into a line and narrowed your eyes. "Obviously, my dear Leonardo. Do try not to be obtuse."

He leaned forward and brushed a feather-light kiss across your painted lips, stunning you into silence. "Hush now. We're almost there."

True to his word, the carriage rolled to a stop before you could gather your thoughts.

"You'll want this." In his outstretched hand is a velvet mask trimmed with the same lace on your dress. When you look at him in question, you see he's donned a mask as well. "One must keep an air of mystery at a masquerade."

Without waiting for a reply he swooped in securing the mask to your face. It happened so quickly you didn’t have time to react although you were thankful to learn that it did seem to be a mask of quality. The lining provided a sensation of comfort against your flesh that would allow you to ignore it's presence once you got used to the extra weight of it.

Music played from within the building growing louder as you drew closer, your escort never leaving your side for a second. The gathering crowds turned their heads in your direction, no doubt admiring your companion. The scrutiny caused you to straighten your posture even more. Tonight no one knew who you were. You could be a real Countess for all they knew.

Marble flooring and ornate columns of the venue had it looking like something from an extravagant castle. The tables glittered with gold and wealth just as much as the attendees who swayed around the floor in elegant gowns and formal attire reminding you of waltzing figures in a glittering music box.  

“Leo, what's the occasion?” The pomp and circumstance was over the top even for the Parisian elite.

“It's a party for patrons of Le Académie Impériale de Musique. A lot of nobles are here tonight… or not. Who can tell with all these masks?”

“I dare say you could easily tell the difference.”

Without acknowledging anything of the sort Leo simply smiled and shrugged.

"Would the lady be so kind as to grace me with a dance?" You knew that voice and turn toward it, fully expecting to see your love, long brown coat and all.

Instead, you're greeted by a man in a formal black tuxedo. The coat was the swallowtail cut, a short coat with tails that was currently all the rage. The only departure from contemporary fashion was his vest and bow tie. They matched your dress perfectly. The back mask with silver filigree did nothing to conceal the burning gold eyes.

You didn't realize you'd offered him your hand until Leonardo spoke up.

"My task is complete then? Enjoy your evening!" He tossed a jaunty wave over his shoulder and disappeared into the crowd.

"You're breathtaking, my dear." Le Comte murmurs, accepting your hand and brushing a kiss across your knuckles. His actions overlapping Leonardo’s from earlier as it overwriting an invisible mark left on your hand.

"You should know. You chose the gown." Try as you might, you could not stop the smile pulling at your lips as he led you to the dance floor.

"Ah. But I didn't. Dream? Yes. Imagine? Absolutely." He slid his arm around your waist and pulled you comfortably close. "Fantasize? Without a doubt. But no image I conjured came close to the vision in my arms at the moment."

Your body held flush to his swayed under his command to the melody. And still those eyes held yours taking control over every thought that might enter your mind, rendering them obsolete, allowing your full attention to remain as his captive.

“Are you aware of what they say about a Waltz?” You didn’t reply, your eyes simply moved from his golden gaze dropping to his plump lips as his voice dripped like honey into your consciousness. “It is just like making love.”

You give a sharp intake of breath as part of you pulls itself however reluctantly to the present moment. A reddish tinge of embarrassment coloured your skin.

“You did that on purpose, you bad man.” You gave a sweet show of resistance to him which only served to make your dance partner chuckle.

“Oh, how you tempt me. Did I go too far, my dear?” He strengthened his grip pulling you closer than before. The toes of your slippers almost leaving the floor as he brought his mouth closer to your ear. “Then why don’t you scold me?”

His words and actions served to tint your skin a rosier shade as the pink dusting of embarrassment darkened further with your rising temperature. For a moment you were pleased that at this angle he could not see your face as you required a few seconds to compose yourself even behind a mask.

“You are bolder tonight. Tell me would that be the power of the mask?”

“We all wear masks, my dear. Tonight I am simply a man captivated by a rare jewel he wishes to possess.”

"Possess?" your smirk held the hint of a challenge behind it. "What makes you believe you're worthy of possessing such a jewel?"

The two of you twirl across the floor with effortless grace. His gaze meets yours. For a moment you think he won't rise to your bait, he won't dignify your teasing with a response.

"Though I may be unworthy, I will never leave you wanting." His whispered words reach your ear just as the music ends. He ends the dance as he began it, bowing over your hand, brushing a kiss over your knuckles, eyes never leaving yours. A shiver dances down your spine at the intensity you see those depths.

"Would it be unseemly to monopolize your dance card this evening?"

"Indeed it would." your other hand is raised and the two of you look at the newcomer. Another set of gold eyes twinkle mischievously behind an intricate mask. "It wouldn't do to have you fill her head with your pitiful excuse of a good time when I'm here."

Le Comte made a tactical error when he stood tall against the newcomer, he released your hand. Unwilling to squander his advantage, the other man lightly tugged on your hand leading you to the dance floor.

As he slid his arm around you, the surprise wore off and you found your voice. Your scandalized whisper reached your dance partner and no further. "Leonardo da Vinci! What it the world do you think you're doing?"

"Making him work for it, Cara Mia. A little chase whets the appetite, no?" His eyes held no remorse for his actions and you gave in to the pleasure of the dance. You had no idea that he could move with such poise. Shaking your head slightly to clear it, you confront the man again.

“What makes you think your little plan is going to work on him?”

“Believe me it’s working. Can’t you feel that?” Leonardo flicked his eyes briefly over his shoulder relishing the apparent reaction to his little jest.

“Feel what?”

“He’s seething.” Leonardo chuckled like a child as he continued your dance. Dipping you in his arms at just the right angle as if to show off a prize. “What do you think Cara Mia?”

“I think you enjoy playing with fire.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” the all too familiar voice sounded very close causing you both to turn. Le Comte was smiling a smile that failed to reach his eyes, another Mademoiselle in his arms. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Sorry, you’re not my type.” Leonardo shrugged smiling cockily.

“Leo…” Le Comte’s voice was more a beastly growl than before. The challenging flash in his eyes against his friend was like looking into a fire pit. Leonardo conceded smoothly handing you over and taking the other dance partner in turn.

“Not very gentlemanly of you my dear Comte.” Leo clicked his tongue, chastising the other man.

“I can give and share with you everything my friend. Except that which I don’t care to.” Le Comte pulled you harder whisking you away at speed still in keeping with the music but at a much faster tempo.

Somehow you kept pace with him through the end of the song. Leonardo was right, his jest needled the man. Le Comte's grip was a little more possessive, his steps a little faster. Everything he did was a demand for your attention, an unspoken plea that you realize only he was worthy - and able - to make you soar.

When the song ended he guided you off the floor. "Might I interest the lady in some refreshments?"

"And some air, if you please. That last dance took the wind out of me."

"It's not my preferred way to leave you breathless, but it will have to do for now." He murmured into your hair causing your cheeks to go scarlet once again.

After retrieving champagne for each of you, you made your way to the gardens. The night was cool and clear. There was no breeze and the perfume of roses hung in the air.

After a time, you looked at your companion. "By reacting, you're only encouraging him. You realize this, don't you?"

“Whether or not his intention is nothing more than a playful prank, I cannot control myself when I see another man take something that I desire. You might consider me a calm and composed gentleman but I am still a man my dear.” Le Comte’s uncandid honesty had your head spinning more than when you were on the dance floor. It was hard to tell if the champagne had suddenly taken effect on your senses or if it was his words sending your mind into a blissful fog.

Averting your eyes from his seemed like the most sinful crime but when you did you noticed what looked to be a hidden entrance in the shrubbery.

“Whatever do you suppose that is?”

“I would say that it would be the entrance to the labyrinth. The owner of this house was at a time great friends with some german aristocrats and enjoyed tales of their own castle being built to incorporate flights of fantasy. At the centre is said to be something of great wonder and beauty.” Le Comte drew close enough that you could feel his warmth emanating behind you like a shroud protecting you from the night air. His breath tickled your nape as he enquired. “Would the Lady care to view such a thing?”

“I wouldn’t mind but do you really think it appropriate to leave the ball?”

He plucked your now empty glass from your hand placing it on the stone planter near you alongside his and laced his fingers with yours.

“I fear it would be more inappropriate to return under such circumstances. I am not sure how I might react to seeing you gazed upon by so many others tonight.” His tone was amourous and slightly pleading as he lightly tugged your hand and guided you down the stone steps and into the entrance of the dark green foliage.

“I place myself wholly in your hands. Lead on, my lady.” Le Comte stepped aside, keeping hold of your hand and letting you lead the way.

You let the age-old wisdom "Always turn left" guide your steps. Nevertheless, the turns and heady scent of hydrangeas had your head spinning. Every time your fingers brushed a bloom, its perfume filled the air adding a veneer of romance to the evening.

“You know the story of the labyrinth, do you not?” Le Comte breathed the question in your ear sending another delicious shiver down your spine.

“It hails from Crete, doesn’t it?”

“Close but not quite, mon Coeur.” He raises your hand to his lips and nips at the sensitive flesh at your wrist before planting a tender kiss at the same spot. The action stops you in your tracks and you turn, meeting his gaze.

“Was that a punishment for being wrong, or a reward for being right?” The question was breathier than you wanted it to be. You could hear the desire in your own voice. You knew he wouldn’t miss it either.

“Hmm, who knows? Shall we continue or have you had your fill?” his eyes practically glowed in the moonlit evening. Smiling, you turned and continued.

“Tell me the history of the labyrinth.” you did a better job of covering the desire he sparked in you this time.

“It was first designed by Daedalus at Knossos at the behest of King Minos.”

You slowed at the next intersection. “But Knossos is in Crete.” you complain, “So I was right!”

Elegant, gloved fingers trace up the column of your neck and across the shell of your ear. “You only got the country, not the precise location, so you were wrong.”

You wanted to be stern. You wanted to glare at the man for his “precision”, but your traitorous body would do neither of those things. Instead, you tilted your head exposing more of your neck to his caress. A whimper of sound escaped you and he chuckled.

“Do you know why the labyrinth was built, petite Cherie?” his voice was low and his lips grazed your ear as he spoke. You swayed on your feet before resting against the warmth of his broad chest.

“To keep in the minotaur trapped.” your answer was a mere whisper of sound.

“Hmm, just so.” he nipped at your ear. “And while I doubt this particular maze has any minotaurs, I assure you, there is a beast.” The last words were more growl than a statement causing desire to flare in you.

“Should you wish a reward tonight, make the chase sporting, mon Coeur.” with only those words, he released you.

The loss of his heat made the night that much colder. Looking over your shoulder, you saw him take two steps back, a wicked smile on his face. He meant what he said. Looking both ways you lifted your skirts, turned left and ran as fast as you could.

The evening noises were louder to your adrenaline-fueled senses. You swore you saw and heard things but when you looked, nothing was there. Two more left turns and logic took control of your thoughts. Le Comte had been with you all night. If you continued to turn left, there would be no sport in the chase at all. Abandoning your carefully laid plans, you turned right. Every decision from there out was made on instinct. As you reached the junctions, you allowed your feet to lead you...

You’d long since lost track of time and your lungs were burning when you turned left one last time and were faced with the centre of the maze.

Two low stone benches surrounded by planters filled with beautiful flowers framed a cement structure that looked like an enclosed gazebo. Stained glass windows covered the arched openings leaving only one way in and out. Moonlight filtered through the glass painting the inside with a rainbow of soft light. Hesitantly you circled the structure. There was no indication from anywhere on the grounds that something this gorgeous was here. You tried to quiet your ragged breaths as you stepped toward the opening.

“You were serious about making the chase sporting, weren’t you mon Coeur?” His voice stopped you in your tracks on the threshold of the structure.

Glowing eyes in the gloom reached out to you silently guiding you towards them.

“How did you get here before me?”

“Is that really a question you should be asking at a time like this?” A strong arm wrapped around your waist as his face vanished into the crook of your neck. You could feel his slow intake of breath against your skin as he filled his lungs with your scent. “Pauvre petit…” He took the tip of his hot wet tongue and drew a pattern over your exposed neck with it. The river of heat it left behind was as if someone had injected you with fire.

“Ngh… ah--”

“I like that sound.” He chuckled pulling back enough to capture your chin in his hand as he gazed into your eyes. “Will you show me more?” he stroked your jaw with a single finger maintaining his grip. If he slid his hand a little lower he could have covered your throat. There was no doubt in your mind he was completely aware of how fast your heart was hammering in your breast, or that it had nothing to do with the running in the maze.

You had no words his eyes and hand never leaving you just took you with him as he walked backwards, your feet willingly following him.

The folly, for what it was, felt like another world. A private realm just for you and it was yet another reason that your mind struggled to clear itself. Le Comte took a seat on a stone bench nimble fingers undoing his jacket buttons as he did so and patted his thigh.

“Come here.” It was a command. There was no subtle grace or room for refusal. This was all the signal you needed to know that the man before you had switched. Still, you must have hesitated a little too long as you revelled in the change. As soon as you were close enough you found your self grabbed with a little more force than expected. Fingers wrapped around your wrist and forearm as the world tilted and your view became that of the ceiling.

“What are you--?”

“That my love should be my line. What are you doing? You tease and torment me. The way you laugh and smile for other men you think I am immune from such actions affecting me?” His hands left your arms and travelled over your satin clad form. It was strange but even without his grip you still felt unable to move as if something had bound you tight in place.

Your whole body was laid out on the stone slab as he positioned himself over you a knee at either side of your hips and made a show of removing his gloves. He didn’t miss how your eyes followed his movements and smirked. “Such a naughty girl. Were you expecting this tonight perhaps?”

“And if I said I was?” Your breathless reply was almost too much for you. Words never came easy when he was like this. When the gentleman stepped aside allowing the breast to be free.

“Then it would fall upon me as a man not to leave you disappointed. I did say I would not leave you wanting. I am, if nothing else, a man of my word.” He removed your gloves and placed his lips on each of your fingers giving everyone a small nip causing you to purr in delight.

He watched in fascination as you struggled to keep your mind anchored at something so simple. While you were focused on him you felt the creeping sensation of something else between your legs. His hand had slipped under your skirt without you realising it. He was far too good at this for it to be a mistake. Leonardo’s words from when you first arrived surfaced in your mind “you weren’t always a gentleman.” And here you were experiencing a glimpse of that darker side first hand.

You tried to bring your hands up to him only to have him push them back and hold them easily one-handed as he continued to search the depth of your dress. “Now now be a good girl. Damn but you’re beautiful.” He brought his face to our neck again. This time he allowed his fangs to graze your skin very faint red lines appeared on your ivory flesh and the guttural moan you gave out had you blushing. “You smell so good. It’s intoxicating…”

As he said that he pulled your underwear to the side and plunged his long fingers inside you, twisting, rubbing, curling. Every retraction had you whimpering and every penetration had your mind sparking like fireworks. But you knew all too well this was nothing to the main event. His lips kissed a trail to your lobe pulling on it and then continuing to kiss along your jawline until they found your mouth.

Inviting him deeper, you parted your lips and had them captured hungrily by your love. Your tongue danced with his catching slightly on his fangs a familiar taste of rouge filling your senses which only fueled his actions further.

There was no way you would be moving your body even if by some grace of god you could at this point. The hand keeping a pace with piston-like precision between your thighs had not stopped and you felt yourself climbing higher up that staircase to heaven. Your back arched against his chest and as he pulled back to get a good look at your face you noticed his lips stained with rouge making them look even more enticing.

He traced a finger from your wrist to your bodice before locating the ribbons binding it and releasing them. The cold air slithered over your exposed body but only for as long as it took for him to bring his hand to your chest. His thumb rubbing over your hardened peaks gentle pulling and twisting them causing you to moan into his mouth as he swooped in for another kiss.

It was bad. This was wrong you knew it in the back of your mind that you shouldn’t be doing something so scandalous here. But you also didn’t wish to stop, and apparently, you were not alone in your desire to continue.

“You have no idea what you do to me. Ugh… that scent. Do you know that when your body temperature rises your natural scent gets stronger? Mon Cher. I’m sorry but I don’t think I can stop now.”

You had no words because his had caused your mind to blank. You bodice had been completely freed and was lying open on the ground. Your skirt and petticoats were bundled high revealing your garter belt and stocking tops along with your soaked undergarments. You forced the embarrassment down as you held his gaze and nodded your consent. You didn’t mind what happened now. As long as it was him you would do anything.

His movements were fluid and exacting. But there was a rushed neediness to it all. It was as if he believed you would vanish at any given moment and he was doing everything to try to keep you with him. His hands roamed creating burning pathways everywhere they touched. His tongue danced with yours when it wasn’t lapping at your tender flesh on your neck and chest.

When he was almost at his limit of being sane enough to know what was happening and mad enough to do it anyway, he threw caution to the wind and sank his length inside you. The rocking of his hips alternated between fast and slow. He would pull almost out before plunging back in with force causing you to wail as his will took you to the edge and harled you off again and again. Your vision went white and then you felt as if you were floating.

*

Birds chirping outside was what woke you. Sunlight falling through your bedroom window landed on you in your bed at the mansion and for a few minutes, you were caught somewhere between dream and reality. Your hand reached up to your neck past your silk negligee. A dull throbbing pain greeted you there telling you all you needed to know. It wasn’t a dream.

[rosesisupposes]

"They'll try to lure you with pretty songs and sweet words. If you value your life, do NOT listen."

This took forever, I’m so sorry. This is my first attempt at actually writing a fae story! Particular thank you to @mariniacipher​ and @potestessemagishomosexualitatis​ for help with Sneky Boi

Little Songs

relationships: Royality; Roceit; possible pre-Royaliceit

word count: 3,038

read on ao3

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

Roman King always has a song in his mind. Always. He wakes humming, he sings arias in the shower, he serenades the kitchen and its occupants as he makes breakfast. If he isn’t singing, he’s listening to music, the beats and rhythms and words flowing through his veins, as vital and ever-present as his blood. Sometimes it’s Disney ballads, sometimes pop songs he can’t get out of his head, and frequently it’s show tunes from the latest production to open on Broadway. And sometimes it’s little songs that his boyfriend doesn’t quite recognize but loves all the same.

So it is not a surprise when Patton Amhrán hears Roman making his way to the kitchen and the tune he’s humming is one Pat has never heard before. He thinks almost nothing of it. He just hums in response as Roman loops his arms around his waist from behind and rests his chin on Patton’s shoulder.

“Good morning, honeybear,” he purrs, still barely awake.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Patton responds, continuing to fry eggs. “You’re up early for a weekend.”

“I woke up with an idea!” Roman replies, grinning. “Since my rehearsals don’t start until Monday, we have all of tomorrow free, and it’s supposed to be so nice out- let’s go on a hike!”

Sliding eggs onto a plate, Patton grins. “Ooh, we could be outdoorsy! That sounds wonderful. Where would you like to go?”

“Rowanberry Woods is just outside town, how about there?”

Patton freezes, turning slightly to see Roman’s expression. The actor’s face is open and happy, completely unperturbed. “Cupcake, why there?”

Roman shrugs. “I’ve just heard so much about it. Everyone around town talks about it so much.”

“Well, that’s true, but that’s because we’re mostly locals. So we all know about it, quite well.”

Roman starts humming again, catching Patton’s hand and pulling him into slow waltz around around the kitchen table, ignoring the freshly-prepared breakfast. “My ginger-peachy love, what is there to know?”

Patton can’t help smiling, so besotted is he with this wonderful man he has the fortune to be in love with. In the morning light that slides into their window from pearly-grey clouds, there’s already a firecracker energy in Roman’s dark eyes. But there are other concerns at the moment.

“It’s a sensitive forest, a chroí.”

“Sensitive?”

Patton shrugs. “The trees are… touchy. And the clearings aren’t much better.”

Roman grins. “Oh my god, Pat, are you talking about fairies? Lo said this would happen!”

Patton grimaces. “I know, I know, the fae aren’t real, Logan has explained their impossibility many times. And yet, everytime someone treats the woods in a less-than-respectful way, it goes badly for them.”

Roman keeps dancing Patton around, shifting from waltz to a calmer sway so that he can kiss his boyfriend’s cheek. “Then we won’t offend the trees, sweetie-pie. I just want to see it! And there’s supposed to a view of the whole valley from the hill.”

Patton feels his knees go just a little quivery at the kiss, just like they always do. Roman’s just so pretty and wonderful and Patton is absolutely infatuated. And now Roman is staring at him with those big brown eyes and how can Patton do anything other than agree?

He makes the mistake of mentioning their plans to Virgil, who’s just as native as Pat. Yes, the other man is more frequently subjected to his boyfriend’s skepticism now that they’ve moved in together, but Virgil waits until Logan is in the washroom to give Roman a warning.

“I know you Americans think you’re too progressive to be affected, but listen to me. The fae folk are very much real, and very clever. They’ll try to lure you with pretty songs and sweet words. If you value your life, do NOT listen.”

Roman rolls his eyes and scoffs, but he’s still humming, tapping a beat on Patton’s waist as they lean against the counter in Virgil and Logan’s kitchen for family dinner night. “How could anything distract me, Tall, Dark, and Spooky?” he asks, a bravado-filled grin flashing out against his dark skin. “I’m in love with the prettiest song the world could have given me.”

“The prettiest song?” Virgil asks.

“I’ve been learning just enough Irish to know what Patton’s last name means,” Roman says, more than a little proud. He caresses Pat’s face, grinning with his own achievement and adoration in equal measures. Patton blushes, leaning into his partner to kiss his cheek, too distracted by that beautiful smile to wonder why the steady tap-tap-tapping of Roman’s long fingers hasn’t stopped for hours.

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

The next morning is bright, comfortably warm and relatively dry, but fluffy grey clouds cover the sky. Roman is practically skipping as he and Patton climb the hill through the lush woods. They stick dutifully to the path, but Roman has far too much energy to walk slowly. He walks ahead to take pictures of flowers and leaves, then comes back to carry the picnic hamper and let Pat walk unburdened, gets distracted by birds flying overhead, and gets even more distracted by pulling his boyfriend close to kiss him softly and sweetly.

Somehow they manage to get to the top of the hill, setting up the picnic they brought. Patton relaxes, enjoying the nice weather and the view - it really is lovely. He can see his hometown and the neighboring towns, too, and the white dots of sheep up and down the hills. It’s a warm green bowl, brimming with familiarity and life.

Roman takes a couple of selfies with the view, then plops down next to Pat to capture them both, kissing his boyfriend’s cheek as the phone clicks. Patton smiles, and pulls Roman closer to connect their lips, and then again, and again, and Roman’s phone is set aside as both men are thoroughly distracted by each other.

Parting, Roman is panting just the slightest bit, and Patton is no better off. They smile at each other, glowing, and Patton caresses Roman’s cheek.

“If you stand on that rock there, you’ll get the best view.”

“But the best view is right here,” Roman responds, turning his head to kiss Patton’s hand. A blush spreads across his boyfriend’s pale cheeks, and he smirks. “I’ll go check it out though. Maybe it manages to be half as breathtaking as you.”

“Stay on the path, okay?”

“Yes, dear,” Roman drawls, already walking away.

Patton reclines on the picnic blanket. It really is so lovely here- why doesn’t he do this more? Is it just the trap of living so close all the time that he can never make a special occasion out of local attractions? One of the many wonderful perks of dating Roman has been having a newcomer to show around, so that every occasion becomes special. He hopes the view is all Roman was hoping for. Glancing down, he grimaces. Roman’s phone is still on the blanket.

“Sugarpie, did you want your phone for pictures?” he calls.

There’s no response. He looks up to see his love just short of the wide, flat-topped rock he’d pointed out. Roman doesn’t seem to be able to hear him- or to move. Patton looks down and blanches. Both Roman’s feet are solidly planted within a circle of tiny white mushrooms.

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

“Wonderful view, is it not?”

Roman turns to see a man smiling fondly at the valley below.

“It is. Sorry, didn’t mean to intrude- I didn’t realize anyone else was up here.”

“What intrusion? I’m always here,” the man says, turning to smile directly at Roman. Roman gulps, hoping it’s not audible. He’s no longer sure they’re a man- he’s never seen any man or otherwise who was this beautiful. Smooth, porcelain-white skin is interrupted by a gorgeous mottling of golden spots that loop around their face. Hair so bright it appears to burn even in the clouded sunlight flys up in bright reds and oranges above a smooth-skinned face. But their eyes are what catches Roman’s gaze. They are green, so green the color is redefined by their existence. All the richness of summer leaves, the soft glow of moss, the bright energy of springtime buds- all these hues must have been inspired by the sparkling emeralds that stare back at him.

“Are you staring?” they ask, a smile spreading across their lips.

“Forgive me,” Roman says with a courtly little bow, playing up his theatrical nature. “It’s not often I encounter such beautiful creatures as yourself.”

“Charming, aren’t you,” they laugh. Roman chuckles as well, and turns as they do to face the view again.

After a moment, a tune starts to dance along the breeze. It’s lovely and soft and old, and the harmonies wind together in gentle concert. Roman is humming along before he consciously notes the presence of the song. Still humming, he turns, and realizes that this lovely being is the one singing, harmonizing with themself. The minute the question appears in his mind of how that is possible, it is overshadowed by the realization that this is the song he’s had stuck in his head for days now, the one he hasn’t been able to place, the one he has no memory of learning until the day he couldn’t stop singing it.

Now, he starts singing the higher melody, and the other stops singing both parts to harmonize directly with him, stepping slightly closer as their words and sounds wind together. Those green eyes are staring at him, and he will do anything to keep their attention, to keep studying the sparkles and shades. But his mind feels more and more clear, and the strange, itching restlessness of the past week melts away. Together, the song rises and falls until they slow to a finish on a last sweet note.

“Thank you for joining me, dear one,” the other says with a smile. “May I be graced with your name?”

Roman blinks, and says, “My friend keeps calling me Princey. You can too, if you want.”

Lips as pink and soft as sweet pea blossoms stretch into a grin. “Your friend is very wise to recognize such royalty. You may call me Dee, if you’d like. Are you from here, beautiful Prince?”

“No, I’m from across the pond,” Roman says. Dee is still staring, almost unblinking, and with the endearments, it is making Roman flush. He blesses his dark skin for hiding his blushes as the other tilts his head in curiosity.

“America? How dashing,” Dee murmurs. “And yet you smell like Eire, and you’ve learned our amhrán.”

Roman suddenly starts, reminded of his boyfriend. He turns, only to see Dee is standing very, very close to him. “Wait, where am I? Am I still on the hilltop?”

“Where else would you be, álainn?”

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

Patton panics for a solid minute as he tries to get his boyfriend’s attention, but the faerie circle has him caught entirely. Patton’s breath comes faster and faster and his heart is beating out of his chest - is Roman okay? Is he hurt? Is he stuck forever?

“Calm, Patton,” he tells himself. “Breathe. In and out. I can do more once I can breathe. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Just like I tell Virgil.”

He breaths, slowly, bringing his galloping heart back in line. Wait, that’s it! Virgil!

He grabs his backpack, rifling through for the emergency pack Virgil tossed in years ago. Wedged into a corner at the bottom, he finds it: iron, rowanberries, and a smooth stone with a hole worn through it. Patton braces himself, slipping the rest of the packet in his pocket, and looks through the hole of the stone. There’s Roman, appearing as normal… and there’s someone else, tall and bright. But Patton still can’t hear them.

Throwing caution to the winds, Patton strides over to grab Roman’s hand, and sound comes roaring back.

“Oh, Princey, you brought a friend?” Deceit purrs, turning to face the newcomer to the circle. “How did you know I love meeting locals from down in the valley?”

“Dearest, you know who that is, right?” Pat whispers frantically, squeezing Roman’s hand tight.

“They call themself Dee,” Roman whispers back. His tone is reverent as he watches Dee stroke a golden hand through their hair. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

“This is why Rowanberry Wood is so dangerous, sugarplum!”

“This forest’s name isn’t properly Rowanberry, did you know? Rude, isn’t it? Calling our home by the name of a plant that keeps us away from you?

“What is its true name?” Roman asks

“Would you believe me if I said Eden?”

“As much as I believe your name is truly Dee,” Patton interjects.

“Clever boy,” the fae says, trailing a smooth finger along Patton’s jawline. Despite his fear, Patton feels a shivery tingling sensation run down his spine. It must be a glamour, but this creature is undeniably beautiful. “Just for that, you may call me Deceit, instead.”

“Is that a title, or a warning?”

“Prince, why is your paramour so rude?” Deceit pouts at Roman. “And he hasn’t even introduced himself, what manners are these?”

“You may call me Morality,” Patton interjects. “You know. The thing that reminds you of right and wrong. And tells you that the right thing to do is leave this circle,” he says fiercely, tugging his boyfriend’s hand.

“Morality,” Deceit says thoughtfully, rolling the name on his tongue. “You’re local, dearheart, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m from around here,” Patton responds stiffly. “And I know enough about this forest and you to not fall for your tricks or misdirections.”

“You think that of me? I’m hurt,” the fae responds, splaying a perfect white-and-gold hand across their chest. “Why would I wish to trick you, when I only want your company?”

“Honeyblossom, can’t we stay a bit longer?” Roman asks, still staring at the fae’s bright eyes and hair.

“Dearest, it’s all an illusion,” Patton says softly. “They’ve got a glamour on, to seem more human. They’re not like us.”

“I only wished to avoid alarming you, but I can remove it if you want,” Deceit says with a shrug. They gesture, and the air around them quivers like hot sand in the sun, rippling and resolving back into full detail.

And what detail it is. Their skin remains porcelain-smooth and white, but the gold disruption shows itself to be shining, golden scales, patterned down their face and trailing down their chest. It’s topped not by bright orange hair, as it appeared, but sheets of fire, rippling waves growing from their skull and flickering up into the sky. Their soft fingers are tipped in golden claws.

With the vanishing of the glamour, the illusion of regular clothes have also disappeared. Roman and Patton can now both see, very clearly, that the golden scales trailing all the way down the fae’s body, following their curves, and leading their eyes straight to the only covering the fae has: a strange, leaflike gauze that covers only the area where torso meets legs. Patton may be the only of the two who is obviously blushing, but Roman’s wide eyes speak volumes in themselves.

“I hope I haven’t scared you, my lovelies?” Deceit asks. The shape of their face has morphed, become higher-browed, but that’s not enough to conceal their smirk.

Patton recovers first. “No, you haven’t. And we’re still going to be leaving now, right love?”

A sharp elbow in his side shakes Roman free of his stunned state. “Um. Yes, dear. We’ll do that. We will… stop looking at them.”

Deceit laughs, and it sounds like sparrows tweeting and the harsh bray of crows. “Dear Morality, you know I can taste lies in the air. Your Prince has no desire to depart.”

“R- Prince. Please, just come with me, okay?” Patton murmurs into Roman’s ear. “We need to go.”

“What’s the risk, love?” Roman asks. “It’s an adventure, a new discovery! I can’t wait to tell the nerd.”

“Please,” Patton begs. “I’m… uncomfortable, sweetheart. My feet are outside the circle, let me pull you out, okay?”

Roman hesitates.

His eyes linger on Deceit. They’re clearly inhuman now, but still beautiful. And their eyes are deep and dark, like staring into the tree canopy at the peak of summer. They sparkle like a pirate’s hoard and Roman wants nothing more than to learn the secrets he’s sure the fae could teach him.

But with a force of will he turns his head back to Patton. Dearest, beloved Patton. Who is even more pale than normal, his freckles standing out like paint on his cheeks. Whose hands are warm where they’re holding his. “Okay,” he whispers. But he makes eye contact with the fae once more as he’s tugged back to the hilltop.

Patton keeps tugging him until they’re back at their picnic blanket, and then down the hill once more, sticking to the trail. Patton presses a piece of iron into Roman’s fist, and holds tight to his own in the hand that’s not clasped fast with Roman’s. Patton gets them out of the wood as fast as he possibly can, heart still pounding over their near escape.

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

At the top of the hill, from within the circle, the fae known as Deceit watches them go. They’re disappointed - they’d hoped to be able to talk to them further. The prince tastes of far-off lands, baked warm by a more-present sun. And Morality, a local, with all of that wise caution the humans used to grind into their children. The fae court could never hope to compare to the delightful intrigue of humanity.

But they have a consolation for how quickly these young men left them. They lift their hands, grinning, at the tiny twist of hair wrapped around their finger. Morality didn’t show up quite fast enough to prevent Prince from freely giving them a piece of that gorgeous, dark, rough hair. They’d not charmed him or bewitched him in any way. The minute the young man had started to sing along, they’d dropped even the beacon spell they’d sent out into the world, the one that had apparently caught the Prince in the first place.

They absolutely must see their Prince again, and his Morality too. That much is certain.

General Tag List:

@residentanchor @royally-anxious @bewarethegrammarpolice  @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse​ @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty @max-is-tired @almostoveranalyzed @hawthornshadow

[emdythewriter]

Let me be your shield | chapter three (Elriel)

When they got back Azriel helped Elain carry her bags into the kitchen and put away what she would use another time. Keeping most of the fruit on the counter and some veggies as well. She pulled out a cutting board in one of the island drawers, washed the fruits she needed to cut up and set to work.

“I’ll be getting out of your hair, call if you need anything,” her bodyguard said she was content with letting him go. He was almost at the door when Elain changed her mind and decided she wanted him to stay after all. She knew Lucien might not like it giving his previous notions about Azriel, but this was her bodyguard not his. Elain wanted Azriel to be her friend, someone she could rely on for more than just protecting her.

“Do you want to stay?” she asked and he paused with his hand resting on the door knob. “I mean you don’t have to of course, but if you wanted to help, that would be nice.” Azriel smiled at her as she rambled and she couldn’t stop a smile of her own. Elain hadn’t felt this happy in awhile but spending the day with Azriel reminded her of those times when she smiled and laughed effortlessly.

“What are we making?” Azriel asked as he waltzed back into the kitchen coming up to stand next to her.

“I’m starting with the fruit salad,” Elain explained as she took out her first strawberry to cut. “You could wash the blueberries off for me and the other fruits,” she said pointing to where she had unpacked them all.

“Are you planning to use them all?” Azriel asked as he headed for the sink, taking the containers of fruit with him.

“Probably, I like a variety in my fruit salads. I also like to mix it up each time. Lucien thinks I’m funny that way but I’d say I’m different.” Elain was smiling as she chopped the green part of the strawberry off before slicing it in half, and then in half again.

“You are truly unique,” Azriel commented chuckling softly as he set the container of grapes on the counter next to her. “How long have you been with Lucien?” He wasn’t totally sure why he asked the question, maybe just because she mentioned the man he had met the other night, but he had a feeling it was something else. Something deeper.

“Not long close to a year if not a little more,” Elain answered as she pulled one of her larger sized bowels out and scrapped the chopped up strawberries into it. She grabbed the washed blueberries and poured the small container in as well. Then she took the thing of grapes and starting cutting the spherical fruits in half.

“How long have you been living together?” Azriel asked next and Elain grew curious on why he decided to start asking all these questions inquiring on her relationship. She’d figure she roll with it if only to keep a conversation, and would only answer the ones she felt comfortable with. She doubted Azriel would cross lines like that but she still kept her guard up.

“He moved in a few months ago,” she answered as he finished washing the last of the fruit.

“Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable,” Azriel said coming to place the other fruits on the island. He grabbed his own cutting board and knife and began to help her with the rest of the salad. “I just wasn’t told much about him so I guess I’m just trying to learn. It’s instinct really.”

“Oh,” Elain said feeling slightly guilty for almost putting those walls up shutting someone out she was starting to consider a friend. “It’s fine and thank you for the clarification.” She smiled up at him before plucking a few more grapes off a stem.

“Elain if I ever ask you or say something to you that crosses a line don’t hesitate to let me know,” Azriel said turning his whole body to face her completely. She read the sincerity in his eyes, the guilt that he might have already crossed one of those lines or tiptoed on it.

“You can ask me anything as long as you allow me to do the same,” That seemed to startle her new bodyguard. The expression on his face was surprise as if no one had ever explicitly said they wanted to get to know him. Elain began to wonder if Azriel had someone in his life, someone like Lucien.

“Alright as long as it’s not about my job. I can’t answer questions like that.”

“Deal.” They both smiled at the other and continued to work in silence. It was a few minutes before the questions started to eat at her, before she felt like she had to know. “Azriel do you have a girlfriend or partner?” She had set the knife aside so she could brush the grapes into the bowl. At the same time he brushed the pineapple he had just finished cutting the last of. As Elain moved to put the remaining grapes in the fridge Azriel began to answer.

“I haven’t been in a relationship for a while, a few years even,” he answered pausing to collect his thoughts before going on. “I was in love with someone for a long time and she never reciprocated those feelings. I eventually met someone else and decided to go out with her. In the end I couldn’t love her the way I did the other woman and so she left.”

Azriel wasn’t facing her as he finished the story, he couldn’t. When he told his friends about the relationship, specifically why it ended he had been met with silence. For awhile after that he felt like everyone was walking on eggshells around him and Azriel had never hated anything more. He didn’t want that to happen with Elain, but he felt safer telling her about his ex-girlfriend and he couldn’t understand why.

“I’m sorry,” Elain said watching her bodyguard intently. He had this cage around him like he was ashamed for even trying to get over this woman, which she knew was why he dated his ex. She had done something similar. “I know how you feel.”

Azriel looked at her then, hazel eyes meeting a golden brown. He looked like he wanted to shake his head and deny the fact she knew his feelings. At the same time he also looked like he wanted to wrap her up tightly and pray that she didn’t know what he was going through.

“I was engaged once,” Elain said beginning to tell him the story that had been on the cover of every gossip site for weeks. “We were going to get married at the end of the year until he found out about Lucien. We never did anything I was always completely faithful Greysen, my ex-fiance. He went crazy with jealousy when he saw me hanging out with Lucien who was working on a project at my dad’s studio at the time, and he cancelled the wedding. The media blew up of course and my father’s publicist and Lucien’s decided the best course of action was to pair the two of us together. That’s how we started and we were never supposed to confirm anything but eventually it turned into a real thing.”

“Do you really want to be with Lucien then?” Azriel asked once she finished her story. The fruit salad completely forgotten at this point as they moved to sit at the bar stools.

“Yes,” Elain said without hesitation but he could sense another meaning behind her words. He didn’t press her though, rather he waited to see if she would elaborate. “But I think I started the relationship in order to cope with the heartbreak from losing Greysen. I also think I stay because I don’t want to feel alone like I did after either.”

“That’s a sad way to live.” Though Azriel knew he wasn’t one to talk. In the past couple of years since his last relationship he had practically isolated himself. The most experience he had as of late was a string of one night stands which came to a halt when he accepted this job.

“You’re right but it’s also safe,” Elain shrugged and Azriel hated the way she sounded. There was so much sadness and longing for something better, something more. Yet it seemed like she was stuck in one place and was content with staying there. He wasn’t though. Earlier at the farmer’s market Azriel had seen a bright light in her, a light that should never be snuffed out and that’s what her relationship was doing to her. Lucien may be a great guy but he wasn’t the guy for Elain, he wasn’t the guy she could love and be happy with at the same time.

“I’ve tried safe and it didn’t work out,” Azriel told her speaking on his own quest to get over a love he would never have. “It always comes back to bite you in the ass.”

“Well when that day comes at least I’ll have you,” Elain smiled at him and he couldn’t stop a smile of his own despite the nature of their discussion. No matter what was going around him seeing her smile always made him do the same. He could be thrown into a war zone and still he would smile if she was.

“How about we finish this salad?” Azriel said wanting to change the mood and get back to a lighter subject. “What else do you need?”

“Honey and cinnamon,” Elain said before getting and rushing into her pantry to pull out the two ingredients. He watched his client as she measured the amount she needed of the two items. Pouring them in she mixed it all together, put a lid on top of the bowl and set it on a shelf in the fridge.

Azriel watched as she moved effortlessly through the kitchen. Next Elain grabbed the vegetables they would use for dinner. She spread the asparagus out on a pan and seasoned them before preheating the oven and setting the pan on the top shelf. Lastly she got out the potatoes and started to cut them into squares to be put into another pan atop the stove. She cooked them as she seasoned them with a new spice.

He couldn’t remove his eyes from her. Watching her cook was something else, and he didn’t understand what it was making him feel. The whole time Elain had a bright smile on her face and Azriel knew she loved cooking. It was nice getting to know her without even talking, he was learning so much about her by just simply watching her work.

For instance she had licked her fingers clean of honey before washing them, but she hated the feel of oil on her skin. When she had greased the pan for the potatoes, and spilled a little on her fingers she had cringed before rushing to wash her hands again. She also didn’t like to get too close to the stove as she stirred the potatoes around, afraid of the oil splashing up at her. Elain didn’t wear and apron but yet she had managed to stay clean, telling Azriel that she had done this many times before. He didn’t even know he was smiling until she turned around and caught him as she dried her hands for the thousandth time.

“What?” Elain asked him softly as she hung the rag back in its place.

“It’s just funny to watch you cook,” Azriel shrugged and she gave him a confused look. He chuckled lightly at her expression before elaborating. “Did you know you scrunch your nose as you stir the pan.” he pointed the potatoes still cooking on the stove behind her.

“No,” Elain said sheepishly looking down at her nails like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“It’s cute,” Azriel said leaning back in his chair. Elain blushed slightly before turning back to the stove she turned it on low just as the oven went off, announcing it had reached the temperature she set it to.

“It smells good in here,” Lucien said entering the kitchen from the side where the door to the garage was. He came over to Elain’s side and kissed her cheek lightly, his hair tickling her ear. “Why are you so red?”

“Just the heat from cooking the potatoes,” Elain excused though her and Azriel both knew she was still flustered from his comment. She didn’t know why it had such an effect on her. Lucien had called her cute plenty of times and she had never blushed this hard, not even when he complimented her on her beauty.

“I’m going to get the burgers started before everyone starts to arrive,” Lucien announced holding up the grocery bag he had brought in. Neither Azriel nor Elain had noticed he was carrying the bag, too distracted by each other.

“Sounds great,” she smiled at her boyfriend who pecked her lips this time before heading to the backyard and starting the grill up.

“Want any help getting set up?” Azriel said standing from his chair and feeling suddenly lazy.

“You know how to set the table?” Elain teased. Az smiled at her for what felt like the millionth time since they had entered this kitchen.

“Elle I’m the best at setting the table,” he smirked before grabbing the plates from the cabinet she directed him too.

Outside Lucien was setting patties on the grill he had just fired up, and had a clear shot through the glass doors into the kitchen. He watched as Azriel laughed and talked with his client, his girlfriend, Elain. He hadn’t seen her look so happy in years, not since Greysen.

She had never shared more than the barest of a fake smile with him, had only ever forced a laugh. It was nearly impossible for Lucien to get any real emotion out of Elain. Azriel seemed to have no problem with the task though.

The man had only been in their lives for a day and already he was doing more, accomplishing more than Lucien had in over a year. Granted it was harder for him seeing as he was the reason Elain had lost the man she loved, he would never blame her for resenting him in that way. Still he thought he was getting somewhere with her in these last few months.

Elain had been more open with him, more forward and he loved watching her break out of her shell. Yet he was now watching her be that free with her bodyguard, and her bodyguard was doing more than Lucien ever would be able to. Azriel Mystic was breaking down Elain Archeron’s walls.

Lucien felt his blood start to boil.

Tag list:

@maastrash @mis-lil-red @poisonous00 @ifangirlninja @nightcourtstarlight @sleeping-and-books @liquifyme @azriels-forgotten-shadow @allaboutthosegenes @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @bookdork6 @fireheart-of-your-dreams @schmlip-scribble @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @erinmau @cc-psm

(Let me know if you want to be tagged!)

[imtryingsomething]

The Journey

A/N- So this is part of the request that I got, I know that this isn't exactly what was asked yet. I got kinda carried away. And I felt the need to establish some stuff. Yes I made up a character, I thought that she would help show the type of person Y/N is. I promise that I'll get to more of the actual request next 'chapter'. Other than that hope this is decent enough for now. As always please reblog and like. And dont under any circumstances repost or copy.

Characters- Cersei Lannister, Robert Baratheon, Tommen Lannister, Joffrey Lannister, Myrcella Lannister, Jaimie Lannister, (female) Y/N Baratheon, and (OC) Rosa.

Warnings- none really, maybe ooc Cersei..., didn't really proof read

Honey wafted throughout the room, carried by a warm breeze. But the silk sheets were still cool to the touch. They felt like water against your skin. In your dream you were dancing. Dancing to a beautifully played violin, like the one that played at your 14th name day. Your feet floated above the grassy forest floor. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting gold over your skin.

"Y/N, Sweetie! Get up!" An old voice interrupted your golden dream.

You let out a groan, rolling over and pulling the blanket up over your head.

"Come up now! You have to pack, you're leaving tomorrow!" A firm hand came down on your thigh.

"I could have you thrown in the dungeon for laying hands on a princess..." You halfheartedly murmured into the pillow.

"You say that every morning. Now come on get up and put on some decent clothes. You need to eat something." Follwed by some rustling in the corner.

"What I need is some more sleep!"

"Now it's not my fault you stayed up until dawn." The sheet covering you was pulled off.

"Mean." Squinting against the bright room you saw now that your surrogate mother, Rosa, had laid out a gold dress for you to put on.

"I don't want to wear that it's too hot out. What about the pale purple one?"

"Very well but then you have to go down and eat something, then pack."

"Why can't someone else pack for me?" You grumbled, climbing out of bed.

"Because the last time someone else pack for you, you didn't like anything that they packed. And you declared that you would do all your own packing." She helped you into the light purple cover.

"A mistake." You finished tieing the front belt. "Thank you Rosa."

The walk to the dining hall was accompanied by the clanking of armor. The irritating sound came from the guard that followed her everywhere. Though it never seemed to be the same guard.

Entering the hall you saw that almost all your family was seated. All for your Uncle Tyrion.

You almost skipped over to your mother kissing her on the cheek, "Morning mother!"

"You're late." She responded with a raised eyebrow.

"Morning father!" You leaned over to the head of the table to give him a kiss as well.

"Darling! Come sit and eat!" He basically shouted, you could still smell a bit of wine on him from the night before.

You slid into the seat to your father's left, your mother sat across from you. Joffrey sat on your right stabbing a sausage with a knife. Tommen and Myrcella sat next to mother, Tommen playfully pushed at Myrcella's shoulder pointing at a lady bug on the flowers in the center of the table.

You stuck a sausage from the large plate putting it on your own, along with some melon. Like you were taught you cut the sausage into small parts. Though if it were just you, you'd do as your father taught you to do which was to try and eat it as quickly as possible.

"Uncle Jamie why don't you ever eat with us?" You asked him as he stood behind your father.

"That's because he was stupid enough to join the Kings Guard!" Robert burst forth answering for him, "Isn't that right King Slayer?"

"Yes, your Grace." Jamie answered obediently, giving you a small smile.

"Mother, what time are we leaving for the north tomorrow?"

"Later in the day, my love." Cersei said, side eyeing your father.

They all knew he'd be passed out all morning. He would drink heavily tonight to celebrate the journey.

Breakfast ended when Tommen and Myrcella started to get too antsy for the table. You excused yourself after that, giving Robert a hug before leaving. You ran back to your room, leaving the guard behind. You laughed the whole way back because you could hear the hurried clanking of the guards armor.

Rosa was still in your room. She sat at a table working on some embroidery piece, looking over her shoulder you saw it was a proud stag.

"I feel as if you've made hundreds of those."

"Perhaps I have but I know you keep all of them."

"You don't know anything." You flopped back onto the large bed.

"Get up, you need to pack." She commented without looking up from her work.

Propping yourself up onto your elbows, "Why don't you have to pack?"

"That would be because I'm not going north."

"Then I'm not going!"

"Of course you are."

"That's very easy for you to say because you're not going. It'll be months of travel without you."

"You will survive. And you love to ride."

"Rosa!" You whined.

"Princesses do not whine!" She said sternly while getting up to grab the bag you must pack.

"You are my best friend! I cannot survive without you!"

"Don't say that. Don't say an old woman is your best friend. Now come on. You're a princess, act like it. You will need to learn how to go on without me." She pushed the bag into your chest.

"Why do you say it like that, so harshly?"

"Because you are a woman nearly grown. Now stop whining and pack your bag."

"Fine!"

After the bags were packed Rosa disappeared to attend other duties. Which left you sitting on the balcony watching two birds circle around one another. You caught a glimpse of your bow leaning in the corner. Reaching over you grabbed an arrow that had been thrown on the ground instead of in the quiver. You spun the shaft around your fingers mulling over the thought of going on a hunt. Stopping to inspect the arrow head. Running your thumb along the edge, it was dull. No hunt today. There'd be plenty of time on the road to hunt so the disappointment wasn't overwhelming.

Grabbing the quiver and bow you waltzed out of the room. Following the familiar corridors towards the armory. The rest of the day would be filled with watching the head blacksmith sharpen the arrow head and make new ones.

--------‐-----------------------------------

Cersei expertly moved the brush through your hair. You both watched the sky turn from orange to blue. Unlike your father you both liked to get up early to watch the sunrise. It was one of the few things that you shared.

"How come I'm so different? My hair isn't golden yellow. It's brown." You asked quietly.

Her hand faltered for a second, "You take after your father more than me."

"Why do I have to go north? It's not me who's asking Lord Stark to be the Hand."

"Because it's what your father wants." She stopped in thought for a moment, "I remember the first time you went north, you loved it. When you came back you spoke about Winterfell, the trip, and the snow for months after. Every morning you would ask when you could go back."

"I hardly remember the trip. Winterfells a blur. I remember beating Robb Stark with a stick after he frightened me and Jon Snow had stood in the corner laughing." You paused to turn towards your mother, "I remember only having fun because of them. It was the only time I wasn't yelled at for rolling in the mud."

"Well you did ruin plenty of dresses by wrestling with the dogs. It was so difficult to get you inside, still is. At least now you're a bit more reasonable." A smile graced her lips.

"Mother do I have to ride in the carriage? It's so cramped and stuffy in there. And my horse is well rested, he'll be able to make the journey." You pleaded, there was no way to use charm on your mother.

She sighed, looking into your stubborn eyes, "Only if you ride in the carriage as we leave the city and enter Winterfell."

You jumped up with glea wrapping your arms around Cersei. She hugged you back tightly not letting go for some time. You smiled into her shoulder. Kissing your cheek she pulled away.

"We should get ready to leave now. Your father is hopefully up."

The journey north would be long and tiring. Your father would drink more then he should. Your mother would glare at him every night. Your brothers and sister would complain about the hard travel. You would miss home and Rosa. But you'd ride fast in front of the train.

Tags

@witch-of-letters (hope it's ok I tagged you, if you dont want to be just tell me)

[katana-no-neko]

If you don’t mind 52 nalu for the prompt request?Thank you so much for your hard work and lovely writing!! I love reading all your stories!

“You really think I’m beautiful?”

I’m unsure about this one, too, but when was the last time I wasn’t, haha

Tonight was the ball in celebration of the coronation for Prince - that is, King - Laxus. They were yet in the early hours of the eve, and Natsu watched Lucy as she tittered with her fellow ladies-in-waiting.

The two had been friends for nearly five years, she being one of the servants the Princess Mirajane had brought from her manor when she’d married Laxus, and he being a knight of the kingdom and castle of Fiore.

Natsu’d been harboring feelings for her for most of that time.

She was breathtakingly beautiful tonight. If he didn’t know better, he might’ve mistaken her as one of the royals or nobles in attendance. Natsu fiddled with his collar awkwardly as he took in the sight of her. She was wearing a simple but pretty red dress, the bodice clinging to her chest and accentuating her curves, and the skirt flowing outward, a red bow pinning the layers in place at her hip. Her golden hair was piled on her head, held tight with another red ribbon.

And her face- her beautiful, grinning, radiant expression. Brown eyes wide and bright with laughter, her smile wide and dazzling, her cheeks slightly flushed from what he had to guess was the champagne in her glass.

Lucy glanced up and noticed Natsu’s gaze, flushing just a bit more, giving him a smile and a small wave, before going back to her conversation.

“When are you gonna do something about that?” Gray, a fellow knight, teased, noticing Natsu’s pink cheeks and dumbfounded look towards the blonde.

Natsu spluttered and tore his eyes away from her. “I- shut it!”

Gray laughed and rolled his eyes. “Look, I’ve told you this several times, Lucy almost certainly feels the same way about you as you, her. What she sees in you, I have no idea, but she likes you.”

Natsu grumbled something incoherent.

“Go ask her to dance,” Gray urged him.

Natsu snorted. “Oh yeah, because I can dance.”

Gray rolled his eyes again. “Then go tell her she’s pretty. Just do something because I’m sick of watching you two pine over each other without doing anything.”

Natsu mumbled under his breath again, but Gray didn’t give him the chance to argue, shoving the man towards the gaggle of girls. He tripped and stumbled into the group, them letting out a surprised yelp and then a giggle.

“Lost your footing there, Natsu?” Lucy laughed. She waved off the other women as they left to give the two room.

Natsu scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, deciding to refrain from punching Gray (who was over there laughing like a hyena over this, the ass!) in favor of talking to Lucy. “Yeah, heh, Gray shoved me.”

“Yes, I saw,” Lucy let her eyes sweep over his garb. She’d seen him in it earlier, of course, but not up close yet. She wasn’t used to him in such formal wear. Natsu oftentimes skipped out on such events, but he’d been practically dragged this time by Mirajane. “You look nice, Natsu,” she commented, gesturing to his clothing and taking another sip of her champagne.

“Eh, too stuffy. Part of the reason I hate these kinda events!”

Lucy laughed. “Oh come on, balls are fun!”

Natsu rolled his eyes. “Not really. I don’t know how to dance, I’ve never cared for champagne, and there’s better ways to spend time with my friends.”

Lucy smiled as she set her glass down on a table. Natsu’s eyes widened as she took his hands and placed one above her waist, clasping her own with the other one. “We’ll make the most of it, Natsu,” was all she said before dragging him into a waltz.

Natsu fumbled around, not sure what to do with his hands or feet. “Ah- Lucy-“

“Just do what I do!” Lucy readjusted his nervous hand at her side before moving to hold his shoulder. “The steps are fairly simple, you just have to keep time,” she told him. “One, two, three, one, two, three…”

Natsu tried to ignore the teasing looks coming from a lot of their friends as Lucy and Natsu swayed and stumbled. “Relax, Natsu!” She laughed. “How come you can do sword fighting so well, but a waltz is what defeats you?”

“Well, this is different!” he insisted with a small smile.

“How is this different!? Yes, fighting’s more rough-and-tumble, but you still have to learn all those stances and moves and be able to keep your footing in battle, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he replied. “Although fighting’s more fun than dancing,” he teased, sticking his tongue out at her.

Lucy laughed again. “Yes, I suppose you would think that.”

They swayed and moved easily, staying out of the way so as not to bump into anyone else, Natsu still stumbling a bit. He was almost certain they were off-tempo with the music playing, too, but he realized Lucy didn’t particularly care. She just wanted to be here with him. Lucy’s beauty and charm was that of a goddess. She could’ve danced with anyone in this room, and she chose him, a bumbling fool.

The thought had him grinning wider.

“What’s with the smile?” she teased. “I thought you didn’t like dancing.”

“You’re just so beautiful-“ he blurted out before blushing in realization of what he’d admitted.

Lucy’s face went pink, too, and it wasn’t because of the champagne this time. She looked down nervously before looking back up to him and Natsu swore she had the lights of a billion stars in her eyes.

“You really think I’m beautiful?” she finally whispered in response.

“Yeah- yeah, I do, Luce.”

Lucy smiled and looked down again to try and hide her pink cheeks, even knowing that Natsu had already seen them. Natsu took the opportunity to move his hands and hold her closer to him, only intensifying both of their blushes. Lucy could feel how hard his heart was beating in his chest.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say the word ‘beautiful’ before,” she told him. “I was beginning to think you never cared when I got all dressed up.”

“I mean, you always look beautiful. You don’t have to put on such a-“ Natsu gazed down at her dress again to try and come up with a way to describe it other than ‘pretty’ and said the first thing that came to his mind. “-tempting attire to look beautiful.”

Lucy squeaked at his adjective of choice, flushing more and pressing further against his neck and shoulder to hide it.

“Beautiful? Tempting? Why Natsu, you’re using all sorts of new words tonight,” she chuckled. “After all these years, I thought you hardly cared about the appearance of a woman.”

“Well, I don’t,” he admitted, making Lucy look up to him in surprise and confusion. “Not unless it’s you.”

Her eyes widened before another dopey grin spread across her lips. “Natsu, you’re so… You’re so… charming, in your own special way,” she told him, resting her forehead in the crook of his neck again.

“Blech, don’t use ‘charming’ to describe me. I ain’t no ‘Prince Charming’ at all.”

Lucy laughed. “No, you aren’t Prince Charming. You’re better. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with a Prince Charming…”

Natsu stumbled and then stilled, the couple no longer moving to the music and Natsu’s body tensing. It took Lucy a moment to realize why, it dawning on her what she’d just admitted.

“Uh, Natsu, I…”

“Did you mean it?” he asked softy.

“I, uh…”

“Lucy, please tell me you mean it because I love you, too.”

Lucy gasped at the admittance, moving back from his hold, staring up at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, struggling to find words to say.

“I…” she finally choked out. “I love you,” she said again.

Natsu’s heart was thumping wildly in his chest as his grin spread from ear to ear. He pulled her back into a dance, taking her hand above her head and spinning her like he’d seen other people doing. Lucy smiled and laughed as it happened.

“You really do?” he asked as he held her close again.

“I do. I love you, Natsu.”

Unable to contain his happiness, Natsu lifted her in the air and spun them, stealing her lips in a soft kiss. “I love you, too!” he cried in happiness.

[chiseler]

TIN PAN ALIAS

They're no longer the household names they once were. In fact their names were not really their names. But between them Harry and Albert Von Tilzer were two of the more successful and prolific songwriters and publishers on Tin Pan Alley, and many of their songs are familiar today as icons of the so-called Gay Nineties and early 1900s. One of them still gets played every day there's a baseball game.

Harry and his brothers were not born Von Tilzers. Harry was born Aaron Gumbinsky or Gummblinsky to Polish Jewish immigrants in Detroit in 1872. He grew up in Indianapolis, where the brothers were all born. The family shortened the name to Gumm, leading to the often-repeated misinformation that Frances Gumm, better known as Judy Garland, was Harry's niece. In fact, her father Frank Gumm was not one of the Gumbinsky/Gumm/Von Tilzer brothers, but a cracker from Tennessee (and predominantly homosexual, interesting when you consider Garland's complex personal and professional relationships with gay men later, not to mention Liza's).

At fourteen Harry Gumm ran away to join the Cole Brothers Circus. He played piano and wrote songs for a traveling theater troupe and changed his name on the road, taking his mother's maiden name and adding the Von for a touch of class. His brothers, all of whom went into the music business after him, followed suit. Making for more confusion, in 1929 a Helen Von Tilzer would marry one of the Marx Brothers -- Gummo, of course. Because of that preposterous-seeming coincidence she's often written up as Harry's sister, but in fact she was born Helen Theaman in New York. Von Tilzer was her first husband's name, and he seems to have been a real Von Tilzer, also not related to Harry and the fake Von Tilzer clan.

Harry worked in burlesque, with medicine shows and in vaudeville, specializing, naturally, in "Dutch" (German) routines. In 1892 he arrived in New York City by train as a groom for a carload of horses. He had one dollar and sixty-five cents in his pocket. For the next six years he struggled, playing saloon piano and writing songs that Tony Pastor and others bought from him at two bucks each.

According to David A. Jansen's Tin Pan Alley: An Encyclopedia of the Golden Age of American Song, Harry wrote his first hit under some duress. He and lyricist Andrew B. Sterling were sharing a furnished room on East Fifteenth Street in 1898 and were "three weeks behind on their rent. When a final bill was slipped under their door, they used the paper to write a chorus and then a verse of what turned out to be their first successful publication, 'My Old New Hampshire Home.'" It was classic barbershop quartet treacle. William Dunn of the Orphean Music publishing company paid them fifteen dollars for it -- a week's rent on the room -- and proceeded to sell more than a million copies in sheet music.

Then Dunn was bought out by Louis Bernstein and Maurice Shapiro, founders of one of Tin Pan Alley's longest-lived hit factories -- it still exists as Shapiro Bernstein & Co., with a catalogue that includes "Ring of Fire," "Yes! We Have No Bananas," "Walk on the Wild Side" (the original, not Lou Reed's song) and the immortal "Wolverton Mountain." They paid Von Tilzer four thousand dollars, a considerable sum in those days, to join them as a partner in the firm. A few years later he would leave them and start his own publishing company.

In 1900 he was relaxing in a whorehouse (or just at a party, depending on the source), noodling on the piano to some lyrics handed him by the British lyricist Arthur Lamb. When Harry saw the girls around him crying, he figured he'd noodled up a smash hit. It was. "A Bird in a Gilded Cage" sold more than two million copies of sheet music, and was one of the most popular weepers of the age, a song we still associate more than maybe any other with late Victorian mawkishness. This time Harry earned far more than fifteen bucks.

He and Lamb collaborated on two more tearjerkers in 1902, "The Banquet in Misery Hall" and the equally lugubrious "The Mansion of Aching Hearts," which a few singers made into hit recordings. That same year a scrawny Jewish kid from the Lower East Side went busking in the saloons on the Bowery, belting out "Mansion" in a raspy tenor to the pie-eyed sailors and hookers who tossed pennies at him. That kid, Izzy Baline, went up to Tin Pan Alley on Twenty-Eighth Street to meet Von Tilzer, who hired him as a song plugger and "boomer." A boomer was a plant in the audience at the music hall or vaudeville house whose job was to cheer and shout "Encore!" when the publisher's new song was performed. Von Tilzer, who was an expert plugger and boomer himself, showed Izzy the ropes. Izzy, who would invent his own German-sounding professional name, Irving Berlin, went on to eclipse his mentor's fame.

But Von Tilzer was no slouch. "Wait 'Til the Sun Shines, Nellie," "I Want a Girl (Just Like the Girl Who Married Dear Old Dad)," "In the Sweet Bye and Bye" and "I Love My Wife, But Oh You Kid!" were all major hits, and he wrote thousands more. That was not unusual. In the crowded Tin Pan Alley milieu, where publishing companies were stacked four and five stories high door-to-door, the competition was brutal, the pace ferocious and the ruling business model crudely simple: Throw as many songs at the public as you can possibly churn out, and hope one sticks once in a while. The lists of songs published on Tin Pan Alley in its glory years, roughly the 1880s through the 1920s, are stupefyingly long -- tens of thousands of songs, hurled at the public in live performances, as sheet music and piano rolls, on recorded wax cylinders, in early versions of coin-operated jukeboxes, on phonograph discs after the introduction of the affordable Victrola in 1906, and eventually on radio. Almost all of those tens of thousands of songs are forgotten now. In fact the vast majority barely made an impression when they were new. You just kept cranking them out, praying for a hit now and again.

Von Tilzer was out there pitching with the best of them. Like all serious Tin Pan Alley composers he jumped on every band wagon that rolled down Twenty-Eighth Street. He wrote Irish and "Dutch" numbers when they were fads, beer-drinking songs when they came into fashion (including one called "Under the Anheuser Busch"), schmaltzy kiddie songs, and songs capitalizing on every new dance craze, from the bunny hug to the turkey trot to the hesitation waltz. He threw three of them together in one song, "You Can Tango You Can Trot Dear but Be Sure and Hesitate." He wrote novelty songs like "The Ragtime Goblin Man" and topical ones like "Old King Tut," a hit for Sophie Tucker the year after Tut's tomb was discovered in 1922.

He also wrote several hit coon songs. Coon songs spun off from minstrel shows in the 1880s. In the 1890s and 1900s hundreds and hundreds of songs with "coon" in the title were published, usually sung to ragtime tunes. They often replaced the Old Plantation nostalgia of the traditional minstrel song with ruder, more overtly racist stereotypes. They were hugely popular, and Von Tilzer wrote his share, songs like "Alexander" (familiar to audiences then as a hifalutin' name for a blackface minstrel character), "Mammy's Kinky-Headed Coon," "My Lady Hottentot" and "Rufus Rastus Johnson Brown." Performers of old-timey music still record that one, though it may be best known for the 1970 funk version by the great Rufus ("Do the Funky Chicken") Thomas. In 1911, Berlin would upstage Von Tilzer's "Alexander" with his own ragtime-y coon song, "Alexander's Ragtime Band." Any similarity to his mentor's hit was purely intentional.

By the middle of the 1920s Von Tilzer had composed something like two thousand published songs, including a dozen million-sellers and as many as a hundred that sold half a million. His output slowed down in the later 1920s and 1930s, but he still credibly claimed to have written some eight thousand tunes. Like many Tin Pan Alley greats, including Berlin, he did it without ever learning to read or write a note of music.

Time and tastes moved on. Harry quietly lived out his last years in the Hotel Woodward, a Broadway establishment favored by show folk, and died there in 1946.

Meanwhile, Harry had brought Albert and the other brothers to New York. Jules worked for Harry. Will started a song publishing company, and Albert and Jack partnered in another. Albert was also a songwriter. He and vaudevillian Jack Norworth collaborated on the giant "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" in 1908; according to an unconfirmed but persistent legend, Albert never actually saw a ball game until the late 1920s. Some of Albert's other hits include "Put Your Arms Around Me, Honey," "I'll Be With You in Apple Blossom Time," the minstrel song "Down Where the Swanee River Flows" (a hit for Al Jolson in blackface), the Prohibition lament "The Alcoholic Blues" ("No more beer my heart to cheer/ Goodbye whiskey, you used to make me frisky/ So long highball, so long gin/ Oh, tell me when you comin' back agin"), the Hawaiian-themed ragtime hit "Oh, How She Could Yacki Hacki Wicki Wacki Woo," and another novelty hit, the zany bum-diddy-bum jungle number "Oh By Jingo!" with lyrics by Lew Brown. ("We will build for you a hut/ You will be our favorite nut/ We will have a lot of Oh By Gollies/ And we'll put them in the Follies.") Born Louis Brownstein in Odessa, Brown had fled the pogroms with his family and settled in the Bronx. In a long career he collaborated with many Tin Pan Alley and Broadway composers on classics like "Life Is Just a Bowl of Cherries," "You're the Cream in My Coffee," "Sunny Side Up" and "That Old Feeling." It was guys like Brown, the Von Tilzers and Berlin whom the rabid anti-Semite Henry Ford had in mind when he ranted, "The people are fed from day to day on the moron suggestiveness that flows in a slimy flood out of 'Tin Pan Alley,' the head factory of filth in New York which is populated by the 'Abies,' the 'Izzies,' and the 'Moes'..." Ignoring him, lots of people recorded the moron suggestiveness of "Oh By Jingo!" -- Danny Kaye, Spike Jones, Stephane Grappelli and Chet Atkins among them.

Following the addition of sound to commercial movies, the studios lured more and more of the music business out to Hollywood in the 1930s. After all, the first hit talkie, The Jazz Singer, was really a singie. Albert went too. He worked in film and tv, mostly contributing to soundtracks of now obscure pictures. He died in L.A. in 1956. By that point much of the Von Tilzer catalogue, especially the older and mushier songs, had faded away, except at ball games. Then in 1958 Lawrence Welk, than whom no one loved old-fashioned schmaltz more, bought the catalogue and engineered a Von Tilzer revival. When the Songwriters Hall of Fame began in 1969, Harry and Albert were among the first voted in.

by John Strausbaugh