#jewels in the attic

[pagerunner-j]

I heard this song for the first time in ages while out and about the other day, and now I feel like inflicting it on all the rest of you.

*twinkles, sparkles* You're welcome!

[the1920sinpictures]

1925 Knoll and Pregizer, German jewelers, made this Egyptian Revival brooch of paste and pearl in silver. From Awesome Attic, FB.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

I finally found one! It's remodeled so elegantly, I don't even mind the reno. This 1899 Victorian is in Chenoa, IL, has 4bds, 2ba, and is only $199K! You have to see this beauty.

Lovely little foyer with original door.

The beautiful main hall stairway is completely intact.

Isn't this a glorious ceiling treatment in the sitting room. I can see a stained glass window on the left.

Isn't that stunning?

And, the 2nd sitting room is done in jewel tones. I like the dark walls and the gold against it.

The vibe is like a chic NYC apt.

Another room with beautiful original fireplace and doors.

Lovely updated powder room.

Elegant dining room with storage built-ins. I love how they painted all the radiators gold, too.

The kitchen is the original footprint, and isn't overly done. I love the modest blue cabinetry and elegant stove hood.

This is lovely.

The pantry.

This small turret room makes a lovely home office.

Oops, someone was lazy and painted around an area rug or bed. Gorgeous doors in this bedroom and it has a transom.

The owner is in the process of fixing it, though.

But, this finished primary bedroom is elegant.

Is this a bath going in?

This narrow bedroom hall is directly like the other house I posted today, and it's so much nicer and authentic, for almost half the price.

The large attic has lots of potential. If it's possible to leave the ceiling and not put up dry wall, I would leave it.

This looks like a former carriage house.

Lovely neighborhood. The home is on a large .59 acre corner lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/732-E-Cemetery-Ave-Chenoa-IL-61726/76992579_zpid/

[oepionie]

— "INTO THE RABBIT-HOLE" THE CROWNED PRINCESS OF RAMSHACKLE. riddle rosehearts

💭ramshackle princess series masterlist | 💬ao3 link

SYNOPSIS: A dispute with Riddle prompts the prefect to flee into the forest where she falls into a rabbit hole and finds herself in a mad fantastical realm of her imagination. Here, she meets her friends who are acting somewhat strangely… odd. They all treat her as royalty and whisk her away to a castle where her husband, the Red Queen, eagerly awaits her return.

How curious.

⊹ [ cw ] — hurt/comfort, falling from heights, arguments, lashing out, fighting, allusions to executions and stabbing, mentions of a knife, mentions of smoking, mild blood, riddle lashes out on you◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, FEM! READER | deuce punches you, che'nya is a little shit, trey with bunny ears, ace and deuce as the tweedle dumbasses, affectionate riddle, cater as hot knave◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 9K+

ACT I: BLOOD RED MESS

​"It was just sitting on top of the old boxes in the attic!" You exclaimed, fumbling with the tiara buried deep in your bag. Trey watched as you took it out, holding it up for him to see. It was of a silver color, embezzled and richly decorated with diamonds. The tiara had a fan shaped diadem, nine throngs, and a small blue heart-shaped jewel as its centerpiece. It was an ornament befitting royalty. Not really something you'd find in Ramshackle's run-down attic.

"That does look expensive. What do you plan on doing with it?" Trey asked, pushing his glasses up. Both of you were taking a walk through the grounds of Heartslabyul, basking in the sunshine. "That could sell for quite a lot of money."

"Tempting, but I was planning on giving it to Crowley." You muttered, turning the tiara in your hands and admiring the way it glimmered in the sunlight.

All of a sudden, in the corner of your eye, a small green blur dashed into the rosebushes, scurrying deep into the green brambles. Gasping, you pointed to it. "Oh! Trey, did you see that?"

"See what...?" Trey blinked. You rushed forward, parting the branches and peering through the shrub. A green rabbit in a waistcoat dashed through the bushes, a ticking clock perched onto his hip. "A bunny rabbit!"

"A rabbit-? O-Oi! Prefect?!" Trey ran after you as you rushed through the bushes, intent on chasing the bunny. Branches and rose thorns scratched and tore at your uniform, but you paid no mind to it. The rabbit took a sharp turn right, and you followed in hot pursuit. As you rounded the corner, you crashed into a large stack of paint buckets. The canisters all toppled to the ground, breaking open and tainting the green grass red.

Likewise, you also fell into the red puddle. The paint pooled around you, seeping into your clothes and hair. You groaned, pushing yourself away from the wreckage. "Just my lucky day."

While you were busy glaring down at the offending red pigment bleeding onto your pristine white blouse, Trey had rushed to your side. The third-year seemed to be nervous as he wiped your face down with his sleeve. "Prefect, quick, fix yourself up before—"

"What is the meaning of this?!" Riddle exclaimed, the clattering click of his heels signaling his arrival as he stomped towards you.

Uh oh.

"O-Oh! Riddle, I—" You stammered, scrambling up. "Love, I was just trying to—"

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?!" Riddle yelled, pulling you away from Trey and seizing your arm—all with a frown etched onto his face. You whimpered at his tight hold, his blunt nails digging deep into your skin. "What were you thinking?! Why were you running through the gardens like some buffoon?!"

"I-I...I was chasing...a rabbit." You peered at him through shaky wet lashes, cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Your sweetheart stared at you in incredulity before a snarky laugh left his lips.

"A rabbit." Riddle seethed, dragging a hand down his face. His pointed glare cut through you as he gestured towards the mess of red. "All that for a rabbit?!"

"I'll have you know that batch of paint is a special import from the Queendom of Roses. We've been waiting for its arrival for months and now you've ruined it with your tomfoolery!" The redhead's chest heaved as he finished his outburst. His skin had turned crimson, and a vein had ticked on his temple. Riddle grabbed a battered bucket beside you, making you avert your gaze towards him.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" He said. Your mouth dropped open, but you found yourself unable to say anything. The longer you kept silent, the more he felt his anger simmer. Riddle's face twisted into a vicious scowl before he threw the bucket full-force at a nearby tree. The resounding bang made you jump, fear gripping your heart.

"I said—" Riddle paused, his tongue screeching to a halt once he saw thick blobs of tears sliding down your face. Silence soon followed. Quickly, his demeanor changed as he finally realized the cruelty and weight of his words.

Muttering obscenities under his breath, Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose. He's done it again, he let his anger get the better of him.

Mistaking his guilt for anger, you cowered before him, watery eyes glued to the ground as you sputtered out sloppy apologies. "I'm s-sorry, Riddle...I'm really sorry."

"No, I—" The redhead let go of your arm, causing you to fall back and crumble to the floor. He scrambled to kneel down beside you, hands hovering over your waist. "Rose, I didn't mean to—"

"I-I have to go." Everyone stared at you with sympathy as you rushed out of the garden, frantically wiping away at the tears on your cheeks. Riddle tried to go after you, but Trey blocked his path. The third-year shook his head, pushing the dormleader back. "Give her some space."

"You can apologize later." Trey sighed. He folded his arms over his chest, looking as if he was about to lecture Riddle. But the look of guilt on his childhood friend's face already told him all he needed to know.

ACT II: JUST LIKE ALICE

Sobs racked through your chest as you rushed through the woods. You didn't know where you were going, you just knew was that you needed to get away. Riddle's words still beat and tore at your poor heart.

So stricken with embarrassment from earlier, you didn't notice an overgrown branch sticking out of the dirt and you tripped, slipping into an agape rabbit hole. You fell through the dirt tunnel; Screaming your lungs out, spinning around wildly in the air, and panicking while tears sprung out of your eyes. Though you soon realized, as minutes passed that you were still falling. The hole seemed to be unending.

"By the great sevens-?!" You soon stopped spinning wildly and instead started floating down. From soaring book shelves, a musty wrinkled bed, a vintage lamp and a broken down piano—The hole around you was filled with all sorts of trinkets and junk.

It took a good 10 minutes before you finally dropped to the ground. Oddly enough, your fall didn't hurt one bit. In fact, it was rather...plush?

Looking down, you found yourself seated on a tremendous pile of pillows. Each pillow was distinct, mainly covered with red and black patchwork—you could only assume it was handmade. There was some sort of symbolism stitched onto it as well, resembling either a heart or playing cards. 

"What in the...Twisted Wonderland?" You gasped, standing up.

Whilst on top of the pillowy mountain, you took the chance to survey the surrounding room. It was a great hallway lined with many doors of all shapes and sizes. The area was fairly big, modeled after Heartslabyul's dorms with its wine-red walls, checkered floors, and peculiar heart-themed architecture.

Was this some sort of secret hideout?

"How curious..." Sliding down the hill of pillows, you decide to survey the hallway. Amongst the doors, you find a small one that's hardly the size of your foot. It was unique from the rest, colored purple and framed by a golden archway instead of the common silver one that others had.

Speculative, you wrapped your fingers around the minuscule handle and turned the door open. You bent down to peek through and catch sight of a beautiful, lush garden. 

A group of flowers danced around in the wind, almost as if they were beckoning you to take a closer look. For some odd reason, it fascinated you. In a trance, you turned back to the room with a new goal in mind. Surely there must be something in here that could take you in?

A banquet table sitting in the far corner caught your eye. It was filled to the brim with fresh pastries and drinks, strange considering no one was here. Though a bit creeped out, you took a gander at the feast lay out before you. Despite the table being so long, there was only one chair present and in front of it was an envelope.

"Curiouser and curiouser." You mutter.

Tearing the top open with your nail, you plucked out the contents of the envelope and caught sight of your name marked in elegant cursive on a lustrous golden card.

"A letter...?" You muttered. What you found was an invitation to a party. "Addressed to me?"

"The Red Queen's Unbirthday party...?" You mumbled, eyes skimming over the text until one line attracted your attention. "—Where His Majesty's Rose shall put on the Nine-Throng Tiara?"

A Tiara? With Nine-Throngs? 

Blinking, you turned back to the stack of pillows. The very tiara you found in your attic was sitting at the top, glimmering under the lights of the hall. Uh...when exactly did that get here?

You squinted your eyes at the line again. "Where she shall put on the Nine-Throng Tiara..."

"Put on the Nine-Throng Tiara?" Pocketing the invitation, you trudged back to the very top of the pillows and took the jewel headdress in your hands. You could only assume that its appearance here right now was the result of magic.

...So it wouldn't be far off to say that it had magical powers, huh? 

Taking a deep breath, you raised it above your head. "Well then, here goes nothing."

After gently setting it atop your head, you soon found a mystical glow engulfing your body. Gasping, you watched as your school uniform shifted and altered into a dress.

The dress was of a sky blue, a long train at its back, pleats along its front; It was decked with lavish lace, delicate embroidery and sewn in with diamonds.

The dress was knee-length and its big bouffant-styled skirt bounced when you walked. For accessories, you had opera-length white gloves and matching white stockings on.

Running your hand up your neck, you noticed how it had a high white lace collar which oddly complimented the black bow tied snug around your waist. The sneakers you had previously worn shifted themselves into dark mary janes, which felt like clouds with every step you took.

"O...kay? A dress-up was not what I was expecting." Sighing, you bunched up the train of your skirt in your hands and rushed back to the banquet table. This time, you took a look at the food and found a champagne bottle labeled "DRINK ME". 

Silently debating if this was a good idea, after a while, you decide to just go for it. Popping the bottle open, you take a quick swig and immediately get hit with a wave of nausea. Gagging, you place the bitter drink down on the table. 

"H-Huh!?" You gasp as the room around you grew bigger and bigger or rather—as you grew smaller and smaller. 

"Oof!" You plopped down onto the floor, the banquet table now towering over you. The drink had managed to shrink you to the right size and it seems that your clothes adjusted accordingly. Clapping your hands, you happily made your way to the golden door and turned the handle. 

Only to find that it was locked.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." Furrowing your brows, you continued to furiously fumble with the doorknob. 

"It wasn't locked earlier!" You whined, kicking at the door. Huffing, you turned back once more to the table. A small golden key was seen on top, one that you must have missed earlier. 

Well, it was far too high up for you to reach now that was for sure. While marching up to the key, you spot a cookie marked “EAT ME” hidden behind one of the nearby table legs. 

"Might as well." You shrug, grabbing the cookie. After brushing it off, you move in to take a bite. "This can't possibly get any worst."

"Huh...? W-Woah!" You shriek, looking down at your feet which seemed to be so far off. Just then your head struck against the roof of the hall. "Uff!"

This time, it seems that the cookie caused you to grow to an inordinately large height.

"That hurt..." You grumbled, rubbing the top of your head. At once, you took up the tiny golden key and hurried off to take the champagne bottle, downing the liquid and shrinking back down. With a pep in your step, you rushed towards the door.

"Alright, Wonderland." You pushed the key into the keyhole, turning until you heard a click. 

"What do you have in store for me?"

Stepping into the door, you found yourself in the peculiar garden. 

It was a whimsical wonderland of it's own. The sky was painted in reds and pinks, and the flowers were ones that you've never seen nor heard of before. The only ones familiar to you were the rosebushes which surrounded the area, enclosed around the garden like towering barricades as little butterflies kissed its roses, fluttering about the flora.

"Oi!" Jumping, you whipped your head around to find a familiar pair of ginger and blueberry heads peeking out from a tree. "Who're you?"

Gasping, both of your hands clasped over your mouth. 

"Ace?! Deuce?!" The first-years jumped at your shrill shriek, nervously exchanging glances when their names flew out of your mouth. Both of them stepped away from their hiding spot, cautiously walking towards you. 

"How do y'know my name?" Ace asked. You were about to answer his question, but got distracted once you noticed the ridiculous outfits they were dressed in. Both of them had identical vivid yellow blouses with thick white lapels. Said blouses were paired with high-waisted red slacks and big blue bow-ties.

Snorting, you covered your mouth to conceal your giggles. "W-What's with the goofy fit?" 

"Eh? This is what we wear every day?" Deuce halted, looking down on his outfit. Ace shook his head, slapping his friend by the back of his head. "N-Never-mind that, listen, we have no idea who you are but—"

"Huh...?" You blinked dementedly. "What do you mean you have no idea who I am...? I'm Y/N!"

Both of them stared blankly at each other, then at you. Simultaneously, they bluntly replied. "Who?" 

"Y/N!"

Ace folded his arms across his puffed up chest. "Never heard of 'er."

"Guys, seriously-"

"That dress looks expensive." Deuce noted, "Are you some duchess from out of the kingdom?"

"No! I'm-" You struggled.

"Deuce, I don't know about you...but I think she might be a bit cuckoo in the head." Ace whispered, deliberately backing away from you. "Let's walk away slowly..."

"Alright! Enough with the jokes!" You lashed out. Gathering your skirt in your hands, you frantically rushed towards the two. "Listen to me! I'm-"

"Your majesty!" Popping out of a corner, Trey appeared by your side and scrambled to clumsily curtsy before you. His shoulders trembled with tension as he kept them taut and square. Stupefied, you stumbled back and gawked at him. "Y-Your majesty?"

It was only then did you notice the two fluffy green bunny ears sitting atop his head. He fumbled with an antique pocket watch, taking a quick glance at the clock before hastily stuffing it into his pocket. Trey wore a plaid red petticoat, dark maroon slacks, and a deep lavender bowtie.

"I apologize for these two." He awkwardly chuckled, kicking at the two boys' knees and forcing them into kneeling positions. Nearly toppling over from the force of Trey's kick, both Ace and Deuce hurriedly crouched down before you.

"We apologize, your highness. We didn't realize it was you..." Deuce trailed off, face spiraling into a ghostly pasty white. "Y-You're not going to cut our heads off, are you?"

"Why—in the everlasting fuck—would I do that?!" You swore, scraping your fingers through your hair and tugging at the strands which made your tiara turn askew. "I don't even know what's going on!"

"Neither do I." All of a sudden, a floating grin appeared in the middle of nowhere, manifesting itself out of thin air. Then, a head and body slowly appeared in a cloud of lavender mist. A purple-haired cat-beastman appeared before you, tail swishing around gracefully as he smoked a long hookah.

The cat looked at you for some time in silence, his face obscured by the thick purple mist he was smoking. At last, he took the hookah out of his mouth, and addressed Trey in a languid voice. "My~ You guys are really giving our rose a headache!"

The smoke cleared to reveal a familiar face grinning at you.

"Che'nya?! You're here too?!" You gasped.

"Yes~ Hello, there. Alchemi Alchemivich Pinka at your service," He bows.

"I have to say! It's great to see you here, your highness!" Che'nya chortled, floating up into the air and spinning around playfully. "Your husband turned the entire kingdom upside down looking for you."

Jolting, you pressed your palm flat to your chest in shock. "M-My husband?!"

"Yesss~" Che'nya drawled, floating around without a care in the world. "Your queen has gone mad ever since you've gone, your highness."

"My queen?!" Is your bewildered response.

"Yes, your majesty. Erm...the 'queen' is a he." Trey confirmed. "Queen Rosehearts has been in a state of panic since you've disappeared weeks ago."

Nodding along, Che'nya gestures to the bright red ring on your hand. You gape at the jewel, eyes ripped wide open. Where did that come from? What is with you and random jewelry popping out of nowhere? No, most importantly—you were married to Riddle?!

You tilt your head up, meeting everyone's eyes in a panicked state.

"This is a dream," Slowly backing away, you cradled your head in your hands. The gravity of the situation you were in was finally sinking in.

As you guessed, this was an extremely lucid and well-crafted dream. It had to be a dream. What other reason was there?

Most likely, you were in the forest right now, having fallen unconscious after tripping over that branch. Yes, truly, you must have hit your head somewhere.

In a daze, you gestured to the world around you. "Yes. Yes, this is a dream."

With that logic in mind, you were safely held inside the comforting quarters of your own head. 

"You!" You bellow and point a rigid finger at Deuce. The poor boy tensed up, fear striking him like thunder as you moved towards his incapacitated frame. Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, you pulled him towards you and spat out an order,

"Punch me." 

Instantaneously, his horror-stricken expression melts into one of confusion. You want him to do what now?

"Erm.." Deuce furrows his brows, closes his eyes and clutches his chin, pondering. 

Surely, it was against the law to punch the Queen's Rose? If Riddle got the slightest whiff of what he's done, he's a dead man. Then again, disobeying direct orders from royalty was also a crime, was it not? 

He was torn.

Deuce sighs, moistening his lips as he meets your frenzied gaze. Ah, well...either way, this was a lose-lose situation for him.

"A-As you wish." Raising his arm, he smashed a rough fist against your cheek. The blow caused your head to violently whip back as you stumbled to the ground. 

Minutes pass and yet, to your chagrin, apart from the growing bruise on your cheek, nothing has changed. You blink incessantly, brows drawn tight together. 

"That's odd. Punching usually does the trick." You murmur, concurrently confused and dizzy. Trey helped you up and considered your condition with reckoning eyes. "Your majesty, have you hit your head somewhere? Or maybe you're sick? You're acting...odd."

"Oh, well—First off, I fell down a rabbit hole. Then there were pillows, tiny doors—and-and other things I can't even make sense of!" You gestured grandly around, acting out the various things you've experienced but Trey doesn't seem to appreciate your ramblings, continuing to stare at you like you were a madman. 

You huff and scoured the vast open gardens as if you could find the culprit who had created this insane world. "This is all so insane, weird, a-and—and mad!”

"Oh, your highness, everyone here is mad. Especially you~!" Che'nya cackled, throwing his head back in amusement. He floated towards you, wrapping his lithe tail around your waist. "Ah, but while I do enjoy the little show you're putting on. We really have to get you back to the castle. Can't really have our kingdom's rose wandering around the forest with memory loss, hm?"

In a snap of his fingers, a map appeared before you.

"This, your highness, is the Red Castle. That's where you reside." Che'nya tapped his fingertip against the very center where an illustration of a castle was shown. It was quite nicely done, nearly to the point of obsessive architectural intricacy.

"Trey, I trust you'll take them there?" Che'nya purrs, head tilting to the side, knuckles pushing up against his cheek.

"Of course. I'll make sure you return home safe, your majesty." Trey responded, one of his bunny ears swiveling. 

Once again, he checked his watch, anxiety gripping him as a trickle of sweat dripped down onto the glass frame. After a while, he pocketed it and reached his hand out to you. "We must leave now. I'm already running late for the unbirthday party. The opening ceremony starts in 3 hours..."

'Curious and curiouser...This is not so bad a dream,' you thought as you intertwined your fingers with his. 'Perhaps I should stay a while.'

ACT III: A WATCHFUL EYE

"Hey! Bunny—We really had to go this way?" Ace groaned, holding onto the train of your skirt as to not sully it on the dirt ground.

"It's the quickest way to the castle. You know we can't waste any more time." Trey pressed, directing your group deeper into the woods. 

"Yeah, yeah! You told me that earlier. I just don't get why I gotta follow? That cat-guy dipped the moment we stepped a foot into this place." Ace pouted, kicking a nearby pebble away.

"Oh, is that so? Well then, feel free to go back." Trey scorned, taking the train of your dress away from Ace's hands and grasping it in his own. "It's not like I'm forcing you to come along. Surely that would make you happier?"

"Fine by me!" The ginger scoffed, crossing his arms and proceeding to go the other way.

Rolling his eyes, Trey pressed a hand by your back and continued guiding you through the forest. Only for you to come to a halt, digging your heels to the ground. "Wait."

"Your majesty?" The bunny noticed how your eyes flickered to Ace's retreating form briefly, concern swimming around your bright orbs. 

"Will he be alright? I'm not so sure he even remembers where we came from..." You sighed. "We can't really leave him behind. Especially in this forest, of all places."

Trey stays silent, a warm smile spreading across his cheeks. Ah, so the tales were true. Tales of the Queen's Rose and their never-ending compassion. Hearsay's of how they pardon offenders sent to the dungeon cells or to the pillory of a guillotine.

"Don't worry, your majesty," Trey chuckled. "He'll be crawling after us in a few minutes."

Shaking your head, you grimaced. "If you say so."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"That damn bunny. Makin' me go into this creepy place." Ace seethed through gritted teeth, stomping back from where he came from. "Like hell I'm wasting my time helping that crazy missy."

As he trudged through the dirt pathway, a branch cracked in the far distance and he froze. Fear gripped him in it's grasp as a cool chill seeped into his bones, creeping all the way up to his spine. 

Ahm...was it just him, or was the sky darker now?

Gulping, Ace's eyes darted around the forest. The wind howled and screeched, the tall decaying branches of rotting trees reached out to him like talons, and the gloomy shadows in the distance morphed into twisted, deformed faces.

Yeah, no. He was out.

"O-Oi! Guys, on second thought, a hike is just what I need!" Ace disputes, struggling for breath as he chased after you. "Guys?!"

As Ace skittered after you, he was completely oblivious to the ominous gaze pinned to his back. 

Obscured behind a cluster of trees, a raven, perched atop a log, looked straight at your group with a lidded stare—unblinking and as still as a statue.

Once you were all out of it's sight, the raven spread it's wings and took off into the sky. It soared through the woodlands, fleetly gliding around the large trees of a forest and wide grassy plains before reaching the Queen's domain.

Grey mist and thin fog cut through the streets of the kingdom while a looming feeling of dread permeated through the air. The past few weeks of searching have not been merciful to the people, it seems. Everyone has felt the full effect of the rose's disappearance.

Once the bird reached the territory of the Red Castle, it swoops and dips down to a balcony. The Knave of Knights stood by his desk in his bedroom, reading over letters and declarations from the Queen. Just a few beheadings to schedule here and there, nothing too difficult.

The loud flap of wings drew his attention away from the desk. A leering smirk stretches across his face as he stands and leisurely strolls over to the bird.

"Birdie~ Back so soon? Have you found them?" He purrs, cocking his head. The leather pads of his glove stroke lightly at the crow's head as it squawks a response. "Hmm~? The queen's favorite trio of lunatics is taking her here?"

Chucking, the Knave clasped his hands around his sallet—lazily pulling his helmet off and allowing his ginger hair to cascade down his shoulders. The iron of his cuirassier plate armor glinted under the glare of the sun, refined and battle-scarred though peculiarly lavishly decorated. It seemed to serve more as a fashion statement than actual protection.

"Well then~ Let's go pay Queen Red a visit, lil' Cay-Cay." Cater muses, scratching the side of his cheek.

"Hopefully that rabbit can handle it. It's going to be MY head on the pillory if she doesn't return home safe."

ACT IV: STRAWBERRY JAM

"SOMEONE HAS TAKEN THREE OF MY TARTS!"

The doors to the throne-room thrash open, smashing hard against the walls. Servants and soldiers alike startled, groveling in fear as they forced their gaze towards the entryway. In all his full glory, the Red Queen appears, adorned in his usual white dress suit. 

His face was tinted in a deep bloody red, pupils dilated into mere pin-pricks, and thin lips stretched out into a snarl. The wisps of his lashes cast a bold shadow across his plump cheekbones, the brush of scarlet eyeshadow above his eyes intensifying his scornful gaze.

Card soldiers frantically scramble to line up by the pathway as Riddle prowls around the room, his signature cape tossed over his left shoulder, dragging along the floor as he went. Snarling, he points his golden scepter to a soldier standing by the end of the line. "Was it you?!"

"N-No my queen..." 

"You?!" Riddle bellows, swiveling his scepter to point to one of your handmaids this time. Whimpering, she shook like a leaf in her shoes, wringing a washcloth tight in her hands. "I-It w-was not me, my queen."

A sudden movement, on the fringes of his peripheral vision, caught his attention. Turning around, his gaze was drawn to a chef standing near the door. The boy appeared to be no more than fifteen years old. Riddle assumed he was a mere apprentice.

The chef popped his fingers in his mouth, seemingly humming at it's taste. How...odd.

Squinting his eyes, Riddle strides towards the apprentice. He approached the boy, pushing him back until his back was flush against the window's tinted glass panes.

"And how about you...?" Riddle seethes, leaning down close to the chef's face. A wobbly grin presents itself on the boy's lips as he stutters out a greeting. 

"Tsk." Tutting, Riddle places his scepter below the apprentice's chin, flicking the boy's gaze up. His crimson eye darts to the side of the chef's lips where a smidge of jam could be faintly seen. 

"Miscreant." Riddle snarls, dragging the boy forward by his apron. Falling forward, the subject scrapes his skin against the floor—a look of horror seeping onto his face as he kneels before his queen. 

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD." Riddle screams, slamming the bottom of his scepter onto the ground which discharged a burst of magic. A collar manifested itself around the chef's neck, so heavy that it weighed his entire upper body down—making him fall.

Panicking, he writhed around on the ground but could not muster enough strength to bring his head up due to the sheer weight of the restraints.

"No! Please!" Indifferent to the pleads of his victim, Riddle scoffs and struts towards his throne, heels noisily clicking against the marble. Moving swiftly, a pair of soldiers grabbed the offender by his arms, dragging him out of the room. As the screaming crook was taken out, the doors shut close with a resounding bang.

"My apologies for the disturbance." Sighing, Riddle reclines against his throne, cape draped across his shoulder and cascading down to his lap. Grumbling, he pushes his hair back—half-lidded gaze piercing through the crowd before him.

"All of you return to your previous duties." He orders. Though hesitant, gradually, the servants resumed to their previous tasks around the castle, toiling silently as to avoid further aggravating the Red Queen. 

Riddle sighs and sinks onto his throne, rubbing at the scorch in his eyes. The warm beaming light of the sun cascaded down his flushed face as he reflected over his previous actions

Was he too harsh with his punishment? After all, you've always resented the way he dealt with delinquents so...intently.

Riddle sighs, tilting his head back. Perhaps he should have—

A frown etched itself deep onto his cheeks. 

No. That chef deserved every bit of punishment sent his way. It was a general and well-known rule in the castle that no one must consume the tarts baked in preparation for an unbirthday party. Only a fool would forget it. 

"It was justified," He huffs. "I am clearly in the right," Riddle consoles himself. 

Behind the draping crimson curtains of the throne room, a tall figure steps out—adorned in a full suit of armor. The Red Queen glances at the stranger, immediately recognizing the tangerine strands peeking out through the openings of his helmet.

"Knave." Riddle murmurs, addressing Cater with a simple glare. Unfazed, Cater bows with a cheery grin before striding over to the queen's side. Plopping himself onto the arm of the chair, Cater leans down to wrap an arm around Riddle. "Hiya~!"

"That was certainly the performance of a lifetime earlier. It was theatre worthy!" The Knave snickers, eyes sweeping across the room, rejoicing at the horrified looks the servants send him. 

'How dare a mere knave like him act so friendly with the red queen?!' He could already hear their hushed whispers. 'Was he mad?'

'Mayhaps.' Cater chuckles, eyes turning dark.

"Anyhow~! Boy, do I have some good news for you." Cater laughs, mood switching over like a light switch. He pulls off his helmet, fanning his face with his hands. "Man, it's so hot in here. Like—Who installed the ventilation?"

Riddle clicks his tongue, pushing the knave away. "I am in no mood for your shenanigans. Come back some other time."

"Ugh, if you say so." Cater sighs, slipping off the throne and turning his back to the queen. "I guess you don't want to hear about how my little pet found your rose. Toodles!"

"What?" Riddle snaps, pulling Cater back by his arm. "Repeat that at once."

Cater smiles. 

He turns to Riddle with a cold dead look in his eyes. "Ara~? Didn't you say you weren't in the mood? Don't worry. I'll come back later. For now, I'll be on my merry way~"

"Do not test me, knave." Riddle seethes, hands coiling tight around his scepter. Cater hummed, waiting a second or so before responding. 

"Little Cay-Cay found her with the bunny and the tweedle duo. They were trekking through the forest." He rasps, toying with the half painted rose brooch on Riddle's suit pocket. "I think that little baker bunny of yours is escorting her here."

"Find them." Riddle growls, baring his teeth. Cater blinked languidly, confusion written all over his features. "Why would I do that? Like I said, they're already bringing her here—"

"I said find them!" The red queen snaps, slamming his fist down onto the arm of his throne. Cater stares at him with a passive expression, unmoving and watching Riddle's every movement carefully.

Well, this certainly ruined his plans. What a travesty.

"As you wish..." He kneels, slipping his helmet back onto his head. "...your majesty." 

ACT V: THE KNAVE

Despite the initial creepiness, it was quite nice to take a walk in the forest. 

Owls hooted and birds chirped in the darkness as golden-orange leaves fluttered in the wind. The soft cool breeze occasionally reached out to caress your cheeks. Nature was at pure harmony with each other here, melting into a single combined melody that provided your group with peaceful ambience.

"The gates are just up ahead. It'll lead us directly to the castle grounds." Trey divulged, tilting his head towards a distant outline of a castle. 

You took a deep breath and took in the crisp woodland air, letting it fill your lungs before exhaling it out. The anticipation of what was to come made your hands clammer as a wave of nervousness washed over you.

"Hi~! Oh, Miss Majesty!" The clippety-clop of hooves made its way towards you. Seated on a gigantic beauty of a black stallion, a rider halted before you. 

"Oh! U-Um..." Gasping, you gathered your skirt and stumbled back. Tilting your head up, you gazed up at the stranger, "Ah...are you some kind of royal guard?"

The mysterious armor-clad rider laughs, shaking his head. "Hmm...close to that! Actually, I'm a knave!" 

"The name is Cater Diamond. At your service." Cater bowed. His horse too mimicked his actions as it bent a knee and curtseyed before you. Giggling, you raised a hand to gently pet at the stallion's mane. It seemed to revel in the gesture as it relaxed and huffed in satisfaction.  

"Ah. Cater, I-I didn't expect to see you here." Trey fiddled with his glasses, a ruminative look on his face. The chef kept himself guarded, stepping a few feet away. Cater side-eyed him, smiling ominously. "Hiyaa~ Trey! Nice to see you and your little tweedle boys."

Deuce and Ace frowned, glaring at the smug aristocrat. Folding his arms over his chest, Trey sighed. "Yeah...nice to see you." 

"Mhm~ Now!" Cater clapped his hands. "While I really do appreciate you bringing our Miss Majesty back to the kingdom...I do believe there's an unbirthday party coming up? Well, it would be best if you commoners—Ah, excuse me—participants went ahead and started preparing."

All three had the same smoldering frown branded onto their faces. They were clearly irked at the not-so-subtle dig Cater sent their way. It’s becoming a bit of a ritual: every time the knave would meet any of them there was always some snarky comment sitting on the tip of his tongue.

"I dunno' if you're blind or anythin', but we're kinda busy." Ace scoffed, tilting his head over to you. "She still has to get into that castle." 

"Ah, about that! Don't worry~ I'll take things over and bring the rose to the castle." Cater grins at you, patting down his horse. "Miss Majesty, wouldn't you prefer riding a great stallion instead of...how horrifying...walking?"

"Oh, I really don't mind walking. I think I'll just—"

"Great!" Before you could finish your sentence, Cater leans down and wraps a firm steady arm around your bottom. You flinch, pushing your hands against his shoulders. "H-Hey!"

"Easy now, Miss Majesty." He hoists you up onto his horse, securely placing you atop the saddle. The train of your dress was now bunched up by your hips as you sat sideways on the stallion. 

"You're so relentless." You huff, smacking Cater's iron clad chest. Only to end up regretting it when your palm started to throb from the impact. Hissing, you drew your hand back.

What a surprise. Who knew hitting someone decked in full armor wasn't a good idea?

“It would be unrefined for me to leave her with someone—someone like you!” Trey bristles, dashing over to pull you off the horse but Cater was quick to shove him away.

“Oh, please, bunny. I insist,” Cater replies firmly. “You're a busy man, Trey. I—of all people—know the importance of keeping a well-ordered schedule and you know fully well how Queen Rosehearts hates being off schedule."

Trey stays silent, keeping his gaze glued to his feet.

Grinning wryly, Cater starts guiding his horse in the direction of the castle. "Well, then~ Toodles! We'll see you three at the party."

With a whip of his reins, both of you were off.

In haste, you turned your head around, bidding adieu to the trio as they waved back.

ACT VI: MAD PARTY

The journey to the castle was fairly long, yet you found yourself enjoying the sights and bustle of the city blurring past you while the people greeted you with robust gaiety and mirth.

When the clouds parted to reveal the sun, you noticed that your eyes stung as you peered up at the strangely pink sky. It wasn't the intense brightness of the sky; rather, it had a shade that brought back memories of late afternoons spent in Heartslabyul, petting pink flamingos while lying on the grass with Riddle's head on your lap.

Following unbirthday celebrations, it was routine for you two to relax while just enjoying each other's company.

Ah, that's right...the unbirthday party. In fact, now that you think about it, there was an unbirthday planned in your "reality" as well. It was the day after today, and the entire dorm was overrun with work.

A painful sting crept up your heart as you remembered the events that transpired earlier. Oh, you must have ruined Riddle's preparations...no wonder he was so livid.

The horse slowed to a stop as you reached the entryway of the castle. It was in essence of a Victorian design. With its mosaic of red cobblestone and brick, it stood there—tall and bold, as though conjured from a child's fairytale.

Cater slipped off his horse and held out a hand for you to take. "Shall we? Ah, but, you do know that your presence is mandatory at an unbirthday party?"

"Yes, I do. We shall." You smile and take his hand as he carries you off the horse, setting you down onto the ground. The knave led you to the back of the castle, where a garden—or, more accurately, a yard—was at.

A big rose-tree at the entryway drew your attention. The roses growing on it were white, but there were two gardeners at it, busily painting them red.

"How curious..." You mutter. "It's just like back in Heartslabyul..."

"Pardon? What was that, your majesty?" Cater questioned, a brow raised. You shook your head, faking a cough. "Ah—Erm—Nevermind that it was just a slip of tongue."

"Oh. Alright..." He regarded you with a skeptical look. "Well then. I'll leave you to it. I have to go fetch Queen Rosehearts."

"Do enjoy the party." With a final bow, Cater strode away, leaving you alone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The party was bustling and filled with patricians dressed in colorful, silky lavish garbs and glimmering jewels. The majority of the men and women were dressed considerably more extravagantly than you. It was a charming small extravaganza that everyone seemed to enjoy.

They were all huddled around by a grand large banquet table, but you weren't interested in that at all.

Among the guests, you recognized Trey. He appeared to be speaking to a card soldier in a hasty, anxious manner, smiling at everything the soldier said and passing you by unnoticed. The bunny was clearly preoccupied; you decided to leave him be this time.

You turned back to the gardeners painting the rosebushes. What a very curious thing...and you went nearer to watch them.

Just as you came up to them, one of them nearly splashed you with a dash of paint. You pulled your skirt out of the way, narrowly missing a drop of red. "Oh, my!"

"Oi! Look out, Deuce! Don’t go splashing paint over like that!" You peered up at the gardeners, noticing two familiar faces.

Ace and Deuce were engaged in a heated argument, flinging their brushes and buckets around.

“I couldn’t help it! You jogged my elbow!" Deuce snarled, throwing his brush at Ace. Screeching, the ginger dodged it. "Oh yeah! That’s right, Deuce! Always lay the blame on others!”

Deuce flung down his paintbucket, and had just begun to roll his sleeves up "Say that again—” when his eye chanced to fall upon you. As you stood watching them, he checked himself suddenly. Ace looked round also, and both of them quickly bowed low. "Your majesty!"

"You know. You ought to stop fighting if you want to get this done," you mused. "Queen Rosehearts is coming, boys. Make sure to get that done or it's—"

You swiped your finger across your neck, hinting at what was to happen if the two didn't straighten up. "Off with your head."

The tweedle duo visibly tensed up. "Yes, your majesty!" They shouted, rushing back to paint the unblemished white roses. At this moment, Trey, who had been anxiously looking across the garden, called out: “The Queen is here!"

The people gathered by the entryway, and you looked round, eager to see your Queen. Murmurs and whispers spread through the crowd as the procession started.

First came a crowd of card soldiers, decked in military uniforms that were reminiscent of Heartslabyul's dorm uniforms. Then followed the Knave of Hearts, Cater was seated atop his horse, head stuck up high in the air. As he waltzed by, you could hear the murmurs and giggles of young women and men around you. Smiling, you shook your head as he winked at a flustered servantboy. 'What a charmer...'

Last of all, the trumpets blared an ear-piercing blow as the highlight of this grand procession came.

"His Imperial Majesty, His grace, His excellency, His Royal Majesty...The Red Queen, Riddle Rosehearts!"

The people round you bowed down yet you were rather doubtful whether you ought to lie down like them or approach the procession. So you stood still where you were, and waited. When the procession came by you, they all halted.

A moment of pure silence envelops the scene. Everyone in the garden gawked at you, placing you in a spotlight. A bashful smile came upon your face as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Hi..?"

"Rose." Riddle muttered, shock radiating from his entire being. The scepter he'd been carrying was discarded on the floor carelessly as he surged towards you, dragging you into his arms. Gasping, you eagerly sank into his embrace as the surrounding crowd erupted in cheers. Riddle drew back and pressed his lips heatedly against yours, making you feel faint.

My, the Riddle in this world was certainly much more forward than the one in yours.

"Oh, my dear." Riddle swoons, raising your hands and pressing his lips against your knuckles. "Dearest, I've been worried sick. I thought you'd gone forever."

Heart melting, you whispered, "Well, I'm here now.", and traced the side of his face.

Riddle leaned against your touch; He tucked his arm affectionately into yours and pulled you in to join the procession.

As you soon noticed, you were walking by Trey, who was peeping anxiously at a paper.

"Hello, Trey" You greeted. "—where’s Che'nya?"

“Hush!” He said in a low, hurried tone. He looked anxiously over at Riddle who was preoccupied with adjusting the large bow to your dress. Trey leaned over, putting his mouth close to your ear as he whispered "Che'nya is under sentence of execution."

“What for?” You hushed, eyes wide as a plate. Trey opened his mouth to speak but before he could—you were pulled off into the croquet grounds by Riddle.

"What a lovely day for croquet. Don't you think, rose?" Riddle smiled, pressing his lips against your knuckles once more. He pulled you forward, chest flush against yours as his hands rest against your hips. Stammering, your cheeks burned up at his bold affections. "O-Oh! Yes! Very much! Though I don't know if I have the energy for a game right now."

"Alright then. Feel free to rest a while." Riddle seats you down a round table filled with pastries. Riddle discards his cape, revealing the handsome the 3-piece suit he had underneath.

The queen plucks a rose from a nearby bush and nips away its thorns. He presses a fleeting kiss against your lips whilst threading the rose into your hair. "Stay here, dearest. I'll be back."

ACT VII: OFF WITH HIS HEAD

Well...the croquet game wasn't going so well. The players all played at once without waiting for turns, overeager to get Riddle's attention. They quarreled all the while and ran around scrambling for the hedgehogs and flamingos.

It was complete anarchy.

The very thing Riddle hated.

In a very short time the Queen was in a furious passion, and went shouting “Off with his head!” or “Off with her head!” roughly once every minute. You become overwhelmed in the midst of this mayhem and fled to the safety of the banquet table. There weren't many individuals present. Only a few people lingered and loitered around.

Pouring yourself tea, a hand suddenly wraps around yours as purple mists surrounds you. A second later, a grin appears. "Hello, your majesty."

"Che'nya!" Now fully visible, the cat stops smoking his hookah and blows smoke in your face. "We meet again."

Coughing, you swat the smoke away. "Ufh— Y-Yes! How are you?! I heard you were sentenced to be executed!"

"Oh yes," Che'nya yawned, resting his head atop the banquet table. "I escaped the guards. Queen Rosehearts didn't like it when I took his crown."

"You took his crown?!" You screamed out a little laugh and Che'nya grinned madly. "Yes~ Oh, you should've seen his face when he realized it was missing! It was like a strawberry about to explode! Ah—but you seem quite down. What is the matter?"

“It's the croquette game,” You began, in rather a complaining tone, “Everyone is quarrelling so dreadfully and Riddle's temper has exploded again.”

“Hmmm. Tell me, how do you tolerate the Queen?” said the Cat in a low voice. "Seeing that you're married to him and all, silly girl."

“Well, tolerate is a mean word. He's not all that bad,” You soothed, fiddling with the rose in your hair: "I think you’d take a fancy to him if you could only see just how caring he is."

"People will always look at their lovers with a love-tinted gaze." Che'nya purrs, leaning his head atop yours. "Prime example being you, silly girl~"

"How dare you speak to her that way."

Just then you noticed that Riddle was close behind you, listening. Jolting, you moved away from the cat and accidentally dropped your tea cup. The piece of china clattered to the ground, spilling its contents all over the green grass. Paying no mind to the mess, the queen pulled you towards him, protectively shielding you from the cat.

"I remember you. You're the thief. Tell me, how did you manage to worm your way in here?" Riddle pointedly snaps. "I'll have you know this breaks a rule in the—"

“A cat may look at a king,” interrupts Che'nya, smoking his hookah. "That is the only rule I've bothered to remember and I’ve read that in some rulebook, but I don’t remember which one. There's so many dreadful rules. How do you manage to memorize it all? Ah—apologies—I forget that you have such a big head."

With every passing comment from the cat, Riddle's fury simmered and grew anew. The cat looked up at the royal with a wide grin.

"You are brilliant and astute," he slurred, while Riddle neither acknowledged nor protested the remark. "Yet you are a tyrant and that rose of yours is a willing little sheep."

A deafening silence soon followed. The shock locked Riddle's bones together; a coldness seeping into his bones, making his skin feel akin to ice as his chest filled with hostility and ire. You felt a muscle underneath your throat tighten, but you gave both men a quick nervous smile and nudged Riddle to the side. "O-Oh darling, let's go somewhere else. Maybe you'd like to sit down? I-It's so hot and—"

"Sheep? A sheep you say?" Riddle barks, his hands clenched into fists—trembling at his sides. You wanted to calm him, but did not have the opportunity to do so as his voice cut through the thick tension in the air.

"Why it would be the very height of your arrogance to presume." Riddle seethes, pointing his scepter at the cat. The queen's eyes glowed an immense red, magical energy swirling around him. "As punishment for your crimes...it's off with your head. I'm going to tear your head off with my bare hands if I have to."

"You can try~" Che'nya grinned.

The Cheshire cat lunged towards Riddle, tossing the queen's scepter away. It all moved so quickly that your eye could barely follow the sudden shift of repressed anger to outright violence.

They had gone down to the grass together, knocking the banquet table over, spilling the pastries and tea to the ground. Riddle sagged him by the shoulders, fist smashing against the cat's face. Che'nya's lip had split, and drops of blood fell onto the lawn like the strawberry jam of smashed tarts. 

In the midst of the fight, a glimmering object in Che'nya's hands caught your eye. You saw him grab a stray knife, pastel blue frosting still spread on it, and the sight of it shocked you into action.

"NO!"

ACT VIII: THROUGH THE WINDOW

"NO!" You scream, half of fright and half of anger, and kicked your legs around. Startling yourself awake in a fit, you found yourself lying on top of a clinic bed, limbs soaked in sweat—the smell of alcohol and anti-septics sobering you up. "Wh-What?"

All of a sudden, warm hands cupped your damp cheeks. You met Riddle's worried gaze as he wiped your tears away. The dorm leader slipped into the chair next to your bed, pushing you to lie down. "It's just a nightmare, dearest."

Your gaze flitted around the room, stopping once you saw something shimmering on your bedside table. The tiara was discarded to your side; Its once luminous blue gem was now gone, leaving an empty space in its wake. Looking down, you found yourself in your paint-stained uniform, skin feeling awfully crusty from the dry paint.

'It was just a dream...?' you ponder.

"What's the matter? Please tell me what's wrong." Riddle fussed over your disheveled appearance. Your face perspired with sweat and your hair was a tumble about your shoulders; He combed it with his fingers, careful to not pull at any tangles and knots. "Rose? Dearest? Are you alright?"

No, you wanted to say. It was hard to breathe, and there was a thick, unpleasant feeling weighing down your heart. It made your head spin. Riddle ran a hand up and down your back as you took a deep, shaky breath, trying to reorient yourself. Despite the apprehension in your chest, you gave a single nod to your worried lover. "Yes. I'm just shaken up."

"Love.."

"Everythings fine." You force out. Though, you’re really saying it to yourself. You can't stop the aching in your chest and you surely can't silence the echo of his ruthless words replaying in your mind.

"Oh, dearest." Riddle murmured, his heart breaking.

The redhead slips in bed with you, dragging you in the comfort and safety of his arms. He sighs in relief when you don't push him away, instead scooting over to press against him. The smell of his cologne invades your senses, grounding you as he rests his head against yours. "I am so sorry. I have been too hard on you."

"When Ace found you passed out in the forest, I was beside myself with anguish...." Guilt washed over his face. The dorm leader had no use for pride, not now when you were in this condition. He hopes that his apology, meager though it has been, will be enough.

"Had-Had I known you were sick, I wouldn't have been so—I deeply apologize. I should not have let my anger get the best of me. I was a fool to get so heated over something as simple as spilled paint. I hadn't even checked if you were alright." Riddle mutters.

"I'm sorry too. Though, I'm just glad it's over." You breathed out, resting against his chest. Then you regarded him with a pointed stare. "Humph. You have to make it up to me, though."

"Of course. Thank you, rose." Riddle hesitates for a moment and then, brazenly, leans forward and gives you a quick peck on the lips.

“Oh! How bold~” You tease with a wry grin, giggling madly like a Victorian lady who just held hands with her lover for the very first time. Riddle flushes, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Shaking his head, he composes himself, coughing into the sleeve of his shirt. "Am I not allowed to show you affection?"

"Oh no, I adore it." Chuckling, you reached out your hand, and Riddle eagerly took it. He pressed his lips against your forehead as you stared out the window in front of you.

While the sun sank, the sky was tinged with bleeding reds and violets. You spent the next several minutes wondering whether what you'd just witnessed was truly a 'dream' when you saw a strange appearance in the air. That baffled you at first, but after observing it for a minute or two, you realized it was a sharp toothed-grin.

Sitting on a bough of a tree a few yards off was Che'nya. When he smoked his hookah and blew smoke about himself, a purple magical mist encircled him. The Cheshire cat grinned at you with a split lip before fading away.

How curious.

—TAGLIST:

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@keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad@kyraxiyn @mayaaaeo  @tbhyknow  @eeveelutiontrainerr  @jelsah27 @as-the-moon-blooms  @bonleyweeb @ch0c0shortiie @unspokenlly

[yoonkles]

he’s the type to (hyung line ver.) ..

genre: headcanons, fluff. gender neutral reader.

warnings: none :)

authors note: first x-reader fic on this blog and ofc it’s ateez. my sweethearts !! requests open- just read my pinned beforehand :)

— hongjoong !

... to always give you a kiss before leaving.

always before you part from each other. rushing from room to room searching for his wallet, late to practice he says, making a mess he’ll deeply apologize for later. haphazardly throwing on a coat and tying his shoes while you watch in amusement from the couch. stuttering through goodbyes as he reaches for the doorknob, only to full body freeze, and turn on his heel. and then he’ll be hovering over you, eyes glazed over, and a grin on his lips. “what, you didn’t think i’d leave without a kiss, did you?” he’ll tease in a breathless tone and your heart will skip a beat. soft pink lips will lean in as your eyes flutter close, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. it’s a familiar warmth, one your all too used to. a move hongjoong had picked up after walking you to your doorstep at the end of your first date. a move he had yet to drop, never leaving your side without a sweet press of his lips against your warm skin first.

— seonghwa !

... to plan the dates.

always being able to count on him for a night out. planning down to the exact time, making reservations weeks beforehand, always a bright smile on his face as he adds a date to your shared calendar. it never seems to fall repetitive, either. from expensive dinner dates where you get all dressed up, to late nights in with a movie and popcorn days later. lego dates, where you both spend hours hunched over a messy table concentrating in comfortable silence. or even the time he had carved out a hole in his schedule, an entire day just for you, where you had driven hours out to a field overlooking the city. a packed picnic in the trunk, a blanket, and seonghwa staring with sparkles in his eyes as you awe at the scenery. “nowhere near as beautiful as you,” he’ll whisper with a lovesick tilt of his lips. you don’t think you had ever felt so loved than that night, wrapped in his arms and overlooking a setting sun and a lively city.

— yunho !

... to movie marathon with you.

stacks of movies and old dvds fished from attic storage displayed on your coffee table constantly. a bubbly yunho practically prancing back and forth with excitement, dressed up in silk pyjamas that match your own. the smell of popcorn seems to have embedded itself in your apartment from the hundreds of bags you go through a year, stronger now that another one is heating up over the stovetop. the man in front of you points at a large stack of christmas hallmark movies when you ask for a suggestion. you don’t remark on the fact it’s currently the middle of june, or how all of those movies were in english, not when yunho is looking at you with the brightest grin you’ve ever seen. “you’re my favorite way to unwind,” he’ll sleepily whisper hours later, hand running up and down your spine. and you exhale, heart warming, as you whisper back to him the same sentiment.

— yeosang !

... to hold your pinky.

soft laughs and lovesick smiles that make you feel like you're both back in high school again. he's always so touchy with you in such subtle, loving ways. a hand at the small of your back as he directs you through a crowd. the brush of his thigh against yours at the dinner table. soft, warm lips brushing against the skin of your cheek every time he leaves your side. but the one gesture that he seems to treasures above all else is the way his pinky wraps around yours. “it’s like a promise,” he whisper to you every time you ask about it, a pretty smile on his lips and intimacy laced throughout his gaze. a promise to keep you in his life, to follow you wherever you happen to lead him. a promise to never let you slip from his touch. you were a jewel to precious to him- he doesn't dream of letting go, ever. not when your pinky fits so right wrapped around his.

[v-e-l-v-e-t-g-o-l-d-m-i-n-e]

Lestat/Armand + Moments that makes me feel Insane

If there had been a summons, I never heard it. If there was a greeting, I didn't sense it now. He was merely looking at me, a radiant creature in jewels and scalloped lace. And it was Cinderella revealed at the ball, this vision, Sleeping Beauty opening her eyes under a mesh of cobwebs and wiping them all away with one sweep of her warm hand. The sheer pitch of incarnate beauty made me gasp. Yes, perfect mortal raiment, and yet he seemed all the more supernatural, his face too dazzling, his dark eyes fathomless and just for a split second glinting as if they were windows to the fires of hell. And when his voice came it was low and almost teasing, forcing me to concentrate to hear it: All night you've been searching for me, he said, and here I am, waiting for you. I have been waiting for you all along. - The Vampire Lestat

He looked to Gabrielle, who stood near the fire, and then to me. And silently, he said, Love me. You have destroyed everything! But if you love me, it can all be restored in a new form. Love me. This silent entreaty had an eloquence, however, that I can't put into words. "What can I do to make you love me?" he whispered. "What can I give? The knowledge of all I have witnessed, the secrets of our powers, the mystery of what I am?" It seemed blasphemous to answer. And as I had on the battlements, I found myself on the edge of tears. For all the purity of his silent communications, his voice gave a lovely resonance to his sentiments when he actually spoke. - The Vampire Lestat

"It wasn't that I wanted vengeance," he whispered. His face was stricken, his heart broken. He said. "But you came to be healed, and you did not want me! A century I had waited, and you did not want me!" And I knew, as I had all along really, that my restoration was illusion, that I was the same skeleton in rags, of course. And the house was still a ruin. And in the preternatural being who held me was the power that could give me back the sky and the wind. "Love me and the blood is yours," he said. "This blood that I have never given to another." I felt his lips against my face. "I can't deceive you," I answered. "I can't love you. What are you to me that I should love you? A dead thing that hungers for the power and the passion of others? The embodiment of thirst itself?" [...] Yet memory plays its tricks. Maybe I imagined it, his last invitation, and the anguish after. The weeping. I do know that as the months passed he was out there again. I heard him from time to time just walking those old Garden District streets. And I wanted to call to him, to tell him that it was a lie I'd spoken to him, that I did love him. I did. - The Vampire Lestat

In a way, he made me think of a child doll, with brilliant faintly red-brown glass eyes—a doll that had been found in an attic. I wanted to polish him with kisses, clean him up, make him even more radiant than he was. “That’s what you always want,” he said softly. His voice shocked me. If he had any French or Italian accent left, I couldn’t hear it. His tone was melancholy and had no meanness in it at all. “When you found me under Les Innocents,” he said, “you wanted to bathe me with perfume and dress me in velvet with great embroidered sleeves.” “Yes,” I said, “and comb your hair, your beautiful russet hair.” My tone was angry. “You look good to me, you damnable little devil, good to embrace and good to love.” We eyed each other for a moment. And then he surprised me, rising and coming towards me just as I moved to take him in my arms. His gesture wasn’t tentative, but it was extremely gentle. I could have backed away. I didn’t. We held each other tight for a moment. The cold embracing the cold. The hard embracing the hard. - Memnoch

Lestat, not a bad friend to have, and one for whom I would lay down my immortal life, one for whose love and companionship I have ofttimes begged, one whom I find maddening and fascinating and intolerably annoying, one without whom I cannot exist. - The Vampire Armand

I wanted to take him in my arms. I wanted to comfort him, to tell him wherever he'd gone and whatever had taken place, he was now safe again with us, but nothing could quiet him. A deep exhaustion saved us all from the inevitable tale. We had to seek our dark corners away from the prying sun, we had to wait until the following night when he would come out to us and tell us what had happened. Still clutching the bundle, refusing all help, he closeted himself up with his wound. I had no choice but to leave him. As I sank down that morning into my own resting place, secure in clean modern darkness, I cried and cried like a child on account of the sight of him. Oh, why had I come to his aid? Why must I see him brought low like this when it had taken so many painful decades to cement my love for him forever? - The Vampire Armand

Two hundred years ago he stripped me of illusions, lies, excuses, and thrust me on the Paris pavements naked to find my way back to a glory in the starlight that I had once known and too painfully lost. But as we waited finally in the handsome high-rise apartment above St. Patrick's Cathedral, I had no idea how much more he could strip from me, and I hate him only because I cannot imagine my soul without him now, and, owing him all that I am and know, I can do nothing to make him wake from his frigid sleep. - The Vampire Armand

Of course I knew the very moment that he left this world. I felt it. I was in New York already, very near to him and aware that you were there as well. Neither of us meant to let him out of our sight if at all possible. Then came the moment when he vanished in the blizzard, when he was sucked out of the earthly atmosphere as if he'd never been there. Being his fledgling you couldn't hear the perfect silence that descended when he vanished. You couldn't know how completely he'd been withdrawn from all things minuscule yet material which had once echoed with the beating of his heart. - The Vampire Armand

“Armand,” I said. “Please.” I dropped down on my knees in front of him, looking up into his face. All the emotion he had held back was printed there now. He was in a rage. “Is your heart totally turned against me?” I asked. “Do you have no faith in what we seek to build here?” “Fool,” he said again. His voice was roughened now by emotion he couldn’t suppress. “I have always loved you,” he said. “I have loved you more than any being in all the world whom I’ve ever loved. I have loved you more than Louis. I have loved you more even than Marius. And you have never given me your love. I would be your most faithful counselor, if you allowed it. But you don’t. Your eyes pass over me as if I don’t exist. And so they always have.” - Blood Communion

“I love you still,” he said. “Yes, even now, I love you, as they all love you, your minions seeking just a smile or a nod or a quick touch of your hand. I love you like all those throughout this palace who are dreaming of drinking just a drop of your blood. Well, you can leave me now. I’m not going anywhere. Where is there to go? I’ll be here if you want me. And grant me my wish for the moment, you and your august friends. Go and leave me alone.” - Blood Communion

Armand suddenly began to weep. “Don’t do it, don’t trust him,” he said. “Lestat, he’ll just destroy you. And if you are gone—.” Ah, such sweet words from one who only hours ago had been cursing me with his every breath. - Blood Communion

The only thought in my mind, the only image, the only idea, was of Armand, and how Armand would feel when he too could hold Marius like this and know that Marius lived, that Marius had been restored, that all of them were safe and secure, and using my strongest power I sent the word to him. I sent the news. And I sent my love to Armand with it. - Blood Communion

[creepswrites]

SMOKING SESH | Stu x Billy

this is an old one i was working on but i've been in a stuilly mood so i've decided to return to it :]

BILLY LOOMIS X STU MACHER

SUMMARY: A few months ago, the first time the two of them messed around, Stu had actually been the one to suggest "lending a hand," so to speak. They'd been watching Friday the 13th when Billy ranted about Sidney not putting out. So Stu offered. At first, Billy assumed he'd been joking. Right up until he got on his knees and made Billy see stars.

WARNING: 18+ (MINORS DNI) , smut, smoking weed, mentions of cheating on Tatum and Sidney

Honestly, Stu had seen Halloween so many times it wasn't even funny.

Between him and Billy, they could probably quote the movie word for word at this point, bouncing back and forth to voice all the characters. Even Myers. Billy had practically perfected the creepy head tilt that was popularized by the Boogeyman himself. One evening while perfecting their costumes for Halloween, Billy had tackled Stu to the bed as Myers in an attempt to "get into character" as he'd said. Stu tried to not analyze how much he'd blushed when Billy had done said head tilt while staring down at him while straddling his waist.

He and Billy could quote the movie word for word at this point, effortlessly bouncing back and fourth between characters - complete with voices and gestures. Billy in particular had a knack for mimicking Myers. Stu recalled last Halloween when the two had dressed up as different slashers and, while his memory of how they got into position escaped him, he could clearly recall Billy straddling his waist clad in Myers' classic mask and blue jumpsuit. The headtilt was uncanny and Stu could remember his nervous laugh at the sight.

Thinking about it for too long made his face feel hot and got his dick hard in equal measure. He tried to not think about why that was, deciding it was something he'd tackle later.

Stu blinked lazily at the small, grainy television, watching with an air of boredom as Laurie Strode's friend made out in the bed with her boyfriend. He let out a soft sigh as he nudged Billy with his socked foot to get his attention. The two were lounging on Stu's bed, comfortable in the warm sanctuary of the attic bedroom. While Stu was propped against the headboard, Billy sat cross-legged at the end of the bed. His attention was glued to the screen.

Billy lay with Stu up against the headboard, pillows piled around them to make for comfortable chairs as they watched the old sticker-covered tv. They'd watched many horror films on it and surely more would come. It sat atop the dresser like a crown jewel, the cleanest spot in the entire room.

Stu glanced over at Billy and nudged him insistently with his elbow. "C'mon," he practically whined as he watched Billy blow smoke up at his cracked ceiling.

"Hm?" Billy asked with a slight tilt in Stu's direction.

"Share." Stu whined as he bumped their shoulders together.

Billy blew residual smoke out his nose with a playful smirk, looking at Stu in a way that made the other shudder just slightly. "Why?"

Stu rolled his eyes. "Cuz it's my weed man." He nudged Billy again petulantly. "And my room."

Dark eyes bore into him and gave him a quick once-over. Billy then tilted his head - like Myers, Stu's brain unhelpfully reminded him - before nodding once. "C'mere then." Billy sighed, exasperation evident in his tone.

Before Stu could reach for the blunt held loosely between Billy's fingers, the other just straddled him without a second thought. His mouth ran dry as he watched with wide eyes. "Uh... Billy?" He choked out, trying to hide his shock with a nervous laugh.

"You're the only person who understands me." Billy ignored Stu's shock, taking a slow drag from the blunt before blowing the smoke to the side as a thoughtful look passed over his face. "Why?" He looked troubled, staring at his friends face like he was searching for the reason. Billy had always struggled to connect with other people ever since he was young. Everyone felt distant, far away, like he was the only real thing in this world.

Stu, however, had become an exception to that.

It was like the closer the two became, the realer he felt. Stu had never shown fear at Billy's darkness and instead thrived off it. His own darkness had an overlap with Billy's but it was still different. It kept things interesting between them. Stu would listen with rapt attention as Billy detailed vicious murders he'd fantasized about and it gave him a headrush. It was equal part delightful and terrifying to be seen this deeply.

Stu swallowed hard, saliva cloying in his mouth as he swiped the blunt back. "I- I dunno," he said softly. "'m not in your head." His voice was quiet against the television, the sounds of screaming coming from the tinny speakers of the tv.

"Feels like it though." Billy shot back, flopping back down on the bed with a huff, his white shirt riding up slightly and drawing Stu's eye. "Sometimes I just fuckin' look at ya and you know exactly what I'm thinkin'. Freaks me out." He glared up at the ceiling like it had slighted him somehow.

Stu blinked, a shy smile growing on his face as he took a drag. "You're... welcome?" His words highlighted by the smoke of his exhale.

Billy glared at him but the slight smile on his face kept Stu from squirming under his gaze. "I don't have to fucking... pretend with you," he said softly. "You're not freaked out by me." Which in itself was a rarity for Billy. He was used to wearing a person-suit - masking emotions and feelings to appear normal. He hid away his dark thoughts deep into untouched recesses of his mind. But with Stu, he didn't have to. The other boy didn't shy away from Billy's violence and blank, emotionless stares. He treated Billy, real Billy, like a friend. It felt like he could take off his person suit around Stu. He didn't need a mask to hide behind. The feeling of being seen so real and true was terrifying.

"You're one of the only real people to me." Billy said casually, watching as Stu blew a ring of smoke. He sat up on his hands, watching the lanky boy with a strange look in his eyes. "It's weird. You're weird."

"You're weird," Stu shot back with a laugh. "It's why we get along so well."

Billy blinked at him slowly, similar to how cats did when they trusted you. "Give it." He said, swiping the blunt back without waiting for a response. "C'mere, I wanna try something."

"Try what?" Stu asked curiously.

Smirking, Billy made himself comfortable in Stu's lap yet again. "Open your mouth," he said slowly. "Don't close it till I tell you." He watched Stu with a curious tilt of his head like watching and waiting for a puppy to perform a trick.

Stu's mouth immediately fell open. Obedient, Billy smiled to himself. That was another reason he liked Stu so much: he obeyed. Without question or protest. If Billy wanted something, Stu would do it no matter what. For someone with a god complex, it made Billy dizzy with the power trip.

He took a slow drag from the blunt before leaning closer, his wrists resting on Stu's sweater-clad shoulders and his fingers dangling the blunt aside to avoid burning holes in the pillowcases. Stu's eyebrows shot up but he relaxed as Billy blew smoke into his open mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watched for his reaction.

Stu's eyes fluttered closed as he took a slow, deep breath to inhale the smoke. Billy held gently onto the neckline of his sweater for support and his free hand slid around to hold the back of Stu's head, his fingers grazing the soft, warm skin of his neck. They'd shotgunned before - because of course they had - but this felt different. More intimate.

And, just like with most things Billy did, Stu didn't even flinch when he felt their lips gently connect. He responded almost immediately by sliding his hands along his friends back and holding his waist. They'd gotten high and made out before, they knew this song and dance. Smoke billowed out in soft clouds between their connected lips.

Billy bit back a soft groan as he ran his tongue along Stu's bottom lip. As soon as he was granted access to his mouth, he wasted no time sliding his tongue inside. He explored enthusiastically, running his tongue along sharp teeth and pressing closer against Stu's chest. They kissed like they were dying for it and it made their heads spin in equal measure. Stu held Billy close, subconsciously rocking their hips together and letting out a moan into their sloppy, wet kiss.

When they finally pulled back, a string of saliva connected their lips before falling away, spurring Stu to press a chaste kiss to Billy's lips to brush it away. They both panted from the heavy makeout session and let their foreheads bump together, breathing in the same space.

It gave Billy an idea.

He took a slow drag from the blunt again before passing it to Stu, blowing smoke out with a harsh breath. When Stu took the blunt and blew smoke up at the ceiling to avoid blowing it in Billy's face, he leant forward to bite the side of Stu's neck. Teeth dug into soft skin making Stu hiss but he didn't dare stop Billy, who began biting and sucking red marks, bright and standing out on pale skin.

And Stu really tried to keep quiet. Honest, he did. But his attempts at biting his lip or trying to hide soft moans behind drags of the blunt only resulted in him coughing. When Billy broke skin, he couldn't help the whine he let out at the feeling of the warm bead of blood trailing down the side of his neck.

Billy slapped a hand over Stu's mouth quickly, his eyes glinting with a darkness that was comfortable and familiar for them both. "You're gonna get us caught," he whispered as he licked up the blood, leaving a wet trail behind.

"Then d-don't do shit you know I like, man!" Stu huffed indignantly, squeezing his eyes shut when Billy bit at a soft spot under his ear. "You're not playin' fair."

Billy just rolled his eyes and snorted fondly. He tossed the burnt-down stub aside and gripped the collar of Stu's sweater and pulled him down, letting Stu leer over him with a surprised look on his face. In the soft light of the dimly lit bedroom, shadows danced on Billy's face in a way that made it look like he was wearing a mask on half his face - one part darkness and the other light. And only Stu knew the truth of the masks. He kissed his cheek gently, his chest overflowing with... something. He didn't want to address it right now.

Stu knew Billy hated to give up control like this. He wanted to prove to him that he could be trusted.

He descended upon him like a starving animal, biting at Billy's neck and shoulder viciously as soon as shirt fabric was moved aside just enough for access. Billy had always been more into pain then Stu was, though he was usually into whatever Billy did to him regardless of preference. But listening to him groan at a particularly harsh bite made Stu smirk a little.

As he pressed his knee up between Billy's legs, Stu descended upon his neck once again, biting at the spot where neck met shoulder and feeling the other shudder. Unlike Stu, Billy was completely incapable of keeping his voice down, moans mostly drowned out by the tv. Mostly. Frantic hands fumbled for purchase on Stu's arms as Billy's back bowed up, pressing into the other boys chest with a moan. "Fuck-!" He cried out when Stu ground down, pressing their hips together, and lamenting how too much clothing was in the way.

Stu laughed breathlessly, enchanted by the sight. "Thought you were scared we'd get caught?" He teased, sliding his fingertips under his friends soft white shirt to brush against warmed skin. "Or are ya hopin' we get caught?" His words made Billy shudder, his mouth right by his ear as he spoke. "Want everyone to see the real you?" Stu teased, kissing softly at whatever skin he could reach.

Billy hummed and gave a soft chuckle. "The 'real me,' huh? And what would that be?" He asked with a quirk of his eyebrow, studying Stu with such a smug look it made him want to bite Billy even harder.

Instead of giving a direct answer, Stu just ground against Billy's hips with a soft moan of his own. Billy stammered out a surprised moan, his hands jerking up to grip Stu's houlders, and rocking up helplessly to meet the grinding. "Like this," Stu panted before kissing him deeply. "Jus' like this."

If Stu weren't as close and observant as he was, he'd have missed the soft blush on Billy's cheeks. "I only let you do this to me because you don't question what I want."

"Yeah. But also 'cuz you like me." Stu giggled impishly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Billy shrugged, tilting his head back to catch his breath. Stu admired his handiwork - light blooms of hickies freckled across shoulders with dark bite marks already growing purple. Billy might scold him for leaving such large marks later but, for now, Stu was pleased at his claim on Billy. Billy, whose hair was ruffled, his clothing askew, and his pupils blown wide. Trusting. Trusting Stu, of all people.

God, he was everything.

"You're so pretty." Stu said gently, as though the words were too precious to even be said aloud. Despite the softness to his tone, it felt like they echoed loudly in the space of his bedroom, even louder than Laurie Strode's screams still coming from the tv.

Billy's eyes widened in surprise and Stu felt a sharp jolt shoot down his spine as he heard his own words hang heavy in the air. Fuck, he thought. God. Fucking. Damnit.

"What did you say?" Billy asked, mouth agape.

"Nothing!" Stu said quickly, his heart pounding as he slid down his friends body. They'd fooled around before - just two guys getting off, they'd insisted - so he knew the general itinerary of their fooling around. He slid the soft fabric of Billy's shirt up more, bunching around his waist more to work on unbuttoning his jeans. He shoved the offending garment down and let Billy sit up just long enough to pull his jeans all the way off, tossing them to the floor to join the piles.

"Shit-!" Billy gasped with relief when Stu finally freed his cock from the confines of his boxers, clenching his teeth as though hoping to literally bite back his moans. "Stu," he panted desperately.

Stu liked this part the best. Loved being able to just turn his brain off and give Billy whatever he wanted. Because that was also what he wanted. He liked getting Billy off more than he liked getting off himself, which was far different from girlfriends he'd previously had.

Billy was different. More important.

"You- you said I was pretty," Billy chuckled, cutting himself off with a surprised moan when Stu took his cock in his mouth effortlessly. Hands quickly found their way into messy hair as Billy tried to resist the urge to fuck his mouth. Which he was very prone to doing.

Stu hummed noncommittally, too focused on taking Billy up to the base, letting his cock hit the back of his throat. He'd gotten good at this. They did this often enough that it wasn't exactly hard to practice. He relished in the soft sounds he managed to pull from Billy, feeling the way his muscles spasmed under his gentle touches as he began to bob his head.

He knew what he liked and could play Billy beautifully, running his tongue along the underside of his cock with expertise. Smugly, Stu felt a surge of confidence that Sidney couldn't do this the way he did. She didn't get this, didn't get to listen to Billy clamp his hand over his mouth to muffle noises, hoping to mask them under the sounds of a slasher movie. She didn't get to kiss Billy the way he did, didn't see him the way he did.

He felt pride at that. That he could be that safe person.

"You think," Billy panted as he rocked his hips up slightly into the soft wet heat of his best friends mouth, "You think I'm pretty." His tone was almost accusatory though Stu could hear the underlying surprise in his words.

There wasn't any point in lying. Stu made an affirming nod as he pulled off, stroking his cock lazily with his hand. "Thought you knew that," he said, almost shy.

A few months ago, the first time the two of them messed around, Stu had actually been the one to suggest "lending a hand," so to speak. They'd been watching Friday the 13th when Billy ranted about Sidney not putting out. So Stu offered. At first, Billy assumed he'd been joking. Right up until he got on his knees and made Billy see stars.

Thus began their bad habit of fooling around behind their girlfriend's backs.

Truthfully, Stu didn't really love Tatum anyways. She was nice, playful, and a great girl. Their synergy had people looking enviously at them, like they had it made. Plus she was gorgeous, objectively speaking. He liked Tatum but exclusively as a friend. And, unlike Billy, he had no interest in seeing his own soon-to-be-ex-girlfriend dead.

But he liked Billy. Way more than he ought to.

They didn't stop fooling around though. Not when they'd almost been caught by Stu's dad, not when Billy had pulled him into the locker room at school to make out in the showers, and certainly not when they'd snuck away at a baseball game to get handsy under the bleachers with their girlfriends seated just overhead.

It was risky. That was part of the fun for them both - the thrill of almost being caught, the adrenaline of it. But Stu felt it was slowly turning into just secretly dating versus two guys just having sex. They hung out alone more, even if they didn't fool around, and it started feeling more like dates. It felt like there was an attachment there. At least, Stu felt there was.

And wasn't that just sad.

Billy's eyes softened slightly and Stu's heart pounded in his chest. He quickly stuffed it down and refocused on the task at hand, deepthroating his boyfriend partner friends cock again, zoning out as he bobbed his head again.

"Fuck, lemme fuck your face, please." Billy begged, which made Stu freeze. Billy didn't beg. Ever. But, of course, he obliged, nodding quickly and letting him set the pace. He liked this part especially. Giving Billy what he wanted was intoxicating and something Stu had grown addicted to.

"Fuck, Stu," Billy panted as he took him to the back of his throat, "You're too fuckin' good at this. Feels-!"

Stu just hummed around him, hollowing his cheeks as he let himself be used. Truth be told, he liked doing this. He liked being the reason Billy felt good. It felt liberating. Like, in some way, he was telling the truth about himself.

That he liked guys. Always had.

Billy didn't seem aware of any of the internal battle Stu was having, too focused on fucking his friend's face with increasing need. Finally, he let out an embarrassingly loud moan, tensing as he came hard. Stu focused on swallowing, holding Billy's hips to keep him from squirming too much. When he finally pulled off - uncaring of his own painfully hard problem in his jeans - he stumbled at the wide smile Billy gave him.

"You're not so bad yourself," he chuckled, sitting up with that cocky smirk on his face that never failed to make Stu blush like a schoolgirl. "You want a hand?" Billy asked, fingers already going for the button of his jeans.

Stu swallowed hard and nodded, trying to not seem too excited as he let Billy push him backwards onto the bed, straddling him. It was almost embarrassing, how badly he wanted his friend.

Maybe, when their plan succeeds, there was a chance they could work it out...

[book--brackets]

The Magic Thief by Sarah Prineas (2008-2014)

In a city that runs on a dwindling supply of magic, a young boy is drawn into a life of wizardry and adventure. Conn should have dropped dead the day he picked Nevery's pocket and touched the wizard's locus magicalicus, a stone used to focus magic and work spells. But for some reason he did not. Nevery finds that interesting, and he takes Conn as his apprentice on the provision that the boy find a locus stone of his own. But Conn has little time to search for his stone between wizard lessons and helping Nevery discover who--or what--is stealing the city of Wellmet's magic.

100 Cupboards by N. D. Wilson (2007-2010)

Twelve-year-old Henry York is going to sleep one night when he hears a bump on the attic wall above his head. It's an unfamiliar house—Henry is staying with his aunt, uncle, and three cousins—so he tries to ignore it. But the next night he wakes up with bits of plaster in his hair. Two knobs have broken through the wall, and one of them is slowly turning...

 Henry scrapes the plaster off the wall and discovers doors—ninety-nine cupboards of all different sizes and shapes. Through one he can hear the sound of falling rain. Through another he sees a glowing room—with a man strolling back and forth! Henry and his cousin Henrietta soon understand that these are not just cupboards. They are, in fact, portals to other worlds.

Princess Ben by Catherine Gilbert Murdock (2008)

A girl is transformed, through instruction in life at court, determination, and magic, from sullen, pudgy, graceless Ben into Crown Princess Benevolence, a fit ruler of the kindgom of Montagne as it faces war with neighboring Drachensbett.

Little Thieves by Margaret Owen (2021-present)

Vanja Schmidt knows no gift is freely given, not even a mother’s love. Abandoned to Death and Fortune as a child, she has scraped by as a lowly maidservant with her quick wits and the ability to see her god-mothers’ hands at work in the world. But when they demand her lifelong servitude in exchange, Vanja decides that gifts not given freely…can always be stolen.

When an opportunity rises to steal a string of enchanted pearls, Vanja seizes it, transforming herself into Gisele, the princess she’s served for years. As the glamorous princess, Vanja leads a double life, charming the nobility while ransacking their coffers as a jewel thief. Then, one heist away from funding an escape from her god-mothers, Vanja crosses the wrong god, and is cursed to turn into jewels herself. The only way to save herself is to make up for what she’s taken—starting with her first victim, Princess Gisele.

Valdemar: Mage Wings by Mercedes Lackey (1992-1993)

High magic had been lost to Valdemar when he gave his life to save his kingdom from destruction by the dark sorceries. Now it falls to Elspeth Herald, heir to the throne, to take up the challenge and seek a mentor who will awaken her mage abilities.

The Numair Chronicles by Tamora Pierce (2018-present)

Arram Draper is on the path to becoming one of the realm’s most powerful mages. The youngest student in his class at the Imperial University of Carthak, he has a Gift with unlimited potential for greatness–and for attracting danger. At his side are his two best friends: Varice, a clever girl with an often-overlooked talent, and Ozorne, the “leftover prince” with secret ambitions. Together, these three friends forge a bond that will one day shape kingdoms. And as Ozorne gets closer to the throne and Varice gets closer to Arram’s heart, Arram realizes that one day–soon–he will have to decide where his loyalties truly lie.

Derkholm by Diana Wynne Jones (1998-2000)

Everyone - wizards, soldiers, farmers, elves, dragons, kings and queens alike - is fed up with Mr Chesney's Pilgrim Parties: groups of tourists from the world next door who descend en masse every year to take the Grand Tour. What they expect are all the trappings of a grand fantasy adventure, including the Evil Enchantress, Wizard Guides, the Dark Lord, Winged Minions, and all. And every year different people are chosen to play these parts. But now they've had enough: Mr Chesney may be backed by a very powerful demon, but the Oracles have spoken. Now it's up to the Wizard Derk and his son Blade, this year's Dark Lord and Wizard Guide, not to mention Blade's griffin brothers and sisters, to save the world from Mr Chesney's depredations.

Traveler's Gate by Will Wight (2013-2014)

Simon can only watch, helpless, as his family is killed and his friends captured by enemy Travelers-men and women who can summon mystical powers from otherworldly Territories. To top it off, another young man from Simon's village discovers that he's a savior prophesied to destroy evil and save the realm.Prophecy has nothing to say about Simon. He has no special powers, no magical weapons, and no guarantee that he'll survive. But he sets off anyway, alone, to gain the power he needs to oppose the Travelers and topple their ruthless Overlord. It may not be his destiny, but Simon's determined to rescue his fellow villagers from certain death.Because who cares about prophecy, really?

Deltora Quest by Emily Rodda (2000)

The evil Shadow Lord is plotting to invade Deltora and enslave its people. All that stands against him is the magic Belt of Deltora with its seven gems of great and mysterious power. When the gems are stolen and hidden in dark terrible places throughout the kingdom, the Shadow Lord triumphs, and Deltora is lost.

In secrecy, with only a hand-drawn map to guide them, two unlikely companions set out on a perilous quest. Determined to find the lost gems and rid their land of the tyrant, they struggle towards their first goal - the sinister Forests of Silence.

Furthermore by Tahereh Mafi (2016-2017)

There are only three things that matter to twelve-year-old Alice Alexis Queensmeadow: Mother, who wouldn't miss her; magic and color, which seem to elude her; and Father, who always loved her. The day Father disappears from Ferenwood he takes nothing but a ruler with him. But it's been almost three years since then, and Alice is determined to find him. She loves her father even more than she loves adventure, and she's about to embark on one to find the other.

But bringing Father home is no small matter. In order to find him she'll have to travel through the mythical, dangerous land of Furthermore, where down can be up, paper is alive, and left can be both right and very, very wrong. It will take all of Alice's wits (and every limb she's got) to find Father and return home to Ferenwood in one piece. On her quest to find Father, Alice must first find herself--and hold fast to the magic of love in the face of loss.

[hypernova-writes]

Mon Bijou.

Synopsis: The King's ball is coming up, and you get invited to go by your dear friend. But...Should you really have gone..?

Pairing: Spy x Reader

a/n: This is the second person in my yandere! Royalty series! give me suggestions on who I should do next~ also Spy's name in this is Lawrence btw!

A dream is a wish your heart makes

When you're fast asleep

In dreams, you will lose your heartache

Whatever you wish for, you keep...

....b e c a r e f u l w h a t y o u w i s h f o r...

Wishing upon a star every night is supposed to give you hope that whatever you wish for will eventually come true. That whatever problem that is plaguing you will be gone, and replaced with an everlasting joy that will cause you to forget whatever troubles originally plaguing your mind.

“Y/n.”

You pray and you hope that one day you will get your own happy ending, that you wouldn’t have to live this damned life that you were cursed to live.

“Y/N!!!!”

You jolted from your daydreaming by your window and hurriedly made your way down from the attic to the kitchen where you were being summoned. You finally reached the room to see your step mother, standing there with a basket and a list, meaning that she wanted you to go to the market. 

“I apologize for being lat mother i-” You were cut off by the harsh smack she delivered to your face, before she started talking.

“When I call for you. You come. You ungrateful brat.” She began as she turned her back to you, “You need to go out to the market. Theres things that need to be grabbed for my Daughters.”

You simply nod slowly, grabbing your bag and the basket off of the table before setting off, walking past your step sisters, who were busy gossiping about something you didn’t catch before you walked out of the home.

You were the eldest, being the only living family member left of your father. Ever since your father passed away two years ago, things have been horrible for you. Lady Navi, your step mother, took over the estate and everything that your father had originally left to you.

And your step sisters, Denice and Ana both know this, and continue to rub it in your face that your father is dead and gone. They were horrible to you, forcing you to do their chores, run their errands, you weren’t even allowed to go out anymore unless one of them were accompanying you. So you were surprised when you were sent off without them.

You hurried out of the door before they decided to change their mind, it had been a while since you had been allowed out like this. 

When reaching the market, you smiled and waved to all of the vendors who seemed more than pleased to see you out and about once agan.

“Ah! NIce to see you little one!”

“Are you doing well?”

“Here take this! Take care now!”

You gracefully accepted the gifts they gave you, knowing that you would have to hide them as soon as you returned home because you know for certain they would be snatched from you if your sisters even caught wind of them.

You walked down the market street before your eyes locked with a male, and you giggle as he beckons you over. “Greetings Mr. I apologize I haven’t been here for our meetings”

“..No worries Mon Amour..I am glad to see you are alright.”

Every time you came to the market you made sure to stop by this one stall, he sold many jewels and things that seemed to be way out of your league, but that wasn’t what drawn you to him at first. It was his voice. 

You remember your first meetings, You had to come to him to fix a watch that your mother had broke, but blamed YOU for it. He happily obliged an fixed it, all while talking about random things to keep your mind off your step mother.

He was a true gentleman, Such a kind a soul. Whoever would become his wife would be a lucky one indeed.

“Oh I have something for you my dear.” He says as he hands you a envelope with a golden trim. You took it and gasped softly. An invitation for tomorrow’s ball.

King Lawrence…Not many truly knew how he looked due to how secretive he was, but rumor has it that this ball was him reaching out looking for suitors. Every eligible bachelor and bachelorette in the kingdom was invited. You had figured you weren’t going to be invited to go because people forget you existed.

You happily accepted it and when you were about to thank him he places a finger to his lip. “NO need to thank me beautiful. You should get to enjoy yourself.” He then smiles at you before he looked to his watch. 

“Ah you should get home, I wouldn’t want to be the reason you no longer can come to town anymore.” He takes your hand and places a kiss to it. “Until then, Mon bijou..”

You tilt your head. “What does that mean?”

“My Jewel.”

—----------

You were happily finishing doing your makeup. Today was the day! 

The ball was here and your mother said that you could attend if you did all of your chores. So you worked hard, all the way until you managed to finish your last chore. 

You then ran to get dressed, putting on a beautiful gown that originally belonged to your mother. You smile as you do a twirl before rushing to go and join your sisters and mother.  

When you approached them, Denice sneered at first. “ Ugh..You’re going in that?” She laughed as she turned her back to you. “It looks like it was made from scraps! Perfect for you though.” 

You ignored them and went to your step mother and smiled. “Mother! I finished all of my chores, and I-i got an invitation from the town!” You say happily as you show her the invitation. She simply walked up to you and snatched it from your hands.

“Such a insolent and foolish brat you truly are.” She hissed as she held the invitation. “You don’t deserve this at all! This ball if for people who are going to be the King’s suitor. Not handmaidens.”

Ana giggles as she walks up to you. “Yes! And mother already promised that we would have a chance at the kings heart! Theres no room for you!!”

You looked at her. “B-but..You promised I could go..” To which your step mother only cackled.

“Oh I did? I said you could go if you were properly dressed.” She snapped her fingers and your step sisters advanced on you. You began backing away, shaking your head and begging them to not do what they were about to do. 

You had no choice but to watch as they pulled and tore at your dress, ripping it and tearing it, laughing and cackling as they ruined your gown. They continued for nearly 30 minutes untl your step mother clapped her hands.

“That’s enough girls!” She chuckled and smirked as her daughters came back to her side. “We will be late if we keep messing with the common folk.”

You watched as they took the invitation that your dear friend had given to you, leaving you with a ruined and tattered dress in the middle of the floor. You scooped up the fabric and could feel the tears beginning to well down your cheeks. You walk out to the backyard, before finally sitting down beside the fountain. 

You looked up to the sky and frowned. “T-this isn’t fair..” You mumble as you bury your head in the palm of your hands. 

Sighing softly you pull your knees to your chest, your tear stain face glistening in the moonlight, you were devastated, watching as the sky turned darker and the moon rose higher and higher in the sky.

“Hey, Hey You there.!”

You lift your head to see a woman dressed in a purple suit with purple glittering wings, she wore glasses and had black hair that was tied back into a bun. She smiled down at you as she lowered herself to the ground.

“Why are you crying?..” She asked and you motioned down to your dress. She then nods as she finally comes to rest in front of you.”My sisters..tore my dress for the ball…now i can’t go..”

She taps her chin before she smiles down at you.

“How about I give you another dress!”

“A-and how are you going to do that?..” You ask softly as you wipe your remaining tears before sitting up properly to look at the woman. “An..and who even are you?”

The woman stands up straight before she lets out a soft laugh. “OH! Where are my manners! You can call me Ms. Pauling! I’m like a fairy godmother!” She says as she whips out the wand and waves it gently in front of your face.

“Huh? Like the ones in fairytales?”

“Mhm! But i’m very much real! Watch this~!” 

You watch as she waves her wand, and a nearby pumpkin turns into a beautiful carriage made of silver and gold with emerald for the vines. The wheels looked like they could’ve been made of beautiful diamond with how glittery and sparkly they were in the moonlight.

You stare in amazement before Ms. Pauling turns to you with a bright smile. “Now what was that about not being able to go?” She waves her wand and a surge of magical energy starts to surround you. You close your eyes to shield them from the harsh lights.

“Go ahead and upon them now!”

You open your eyes and look down seeing that you were now wearing a beautiful light blue ball gown, the gown shimmered in the moonlight almost making it look like your were glowing. You wore matching white gloves,  and you watched as Ms. Pauling walked over to adjust the matching hair piece that was nestled in your hair.

“Oh Check your shoes too!” 

You looked down and saw that you were wearing crystal glass heels, fit perfectly to your size. You smile as you do a twirl and that earned a chuckle from Ms. Pauling. “See? Now lets get you to that ball~”

You then frown. “But..I don't have an invitation-” You stopped your words as you watched as she magically produced an invitation in her hands. She smirks and hands it to you before ushering you into the carriage. You hear a few more sounds before the carriage starts moving forward, catching you off guard. You stumble a bt in the carriage before you regain your balance. 

You look out of the carriage at the moving scenery before you, placing a hand to your hear you sigh softly. “God..I hope everything goes well…”

“I don’t know if i can take anymore heartbreak…” You mumble as you look up to the stars, You lean on the window of the carriage as it slowly started to approach the castle. 

You could see the dozens upon dozens of women and men dressed down to the tea, all of them with the same goal in mind:

Impress the king. 

“Alright! We are here!” 

You jumped as Ms. Pauling opened the carriage door for you, you take her hand as she helps you down from the carriage.

You let out a gasp of wonder as you come to look at the palace, having never seen it up close before, only from a distance. The place was beautiful, decorated in tons of flowers of various colors, ribbons and streamers of  all kinds covered the balconies as they welcomed various guests into the ballroom.

“Now Sweetheart, theres a catch to your dress.”  Ms Pauling points to the clock. “Once that clock hits 12 I need you to meet back here with me. Or else your dress is going to turn back into ruin right in front of you.” She explained and you nodded as she handed you your invitation. 

“Besides that, go and enjoy yourself.” She says as she shooed you inside. You nod and begin to follow the crowd of people heading inside. 

You were all wide eye and bushy tailed, after all, this is the fanciest event that you’ve ever been to you in your lifetime. The dresses were beautiful and the people who were all gathered here were too, it made you wonder why in the world did you ever decide to come here.

“You look lost, May I?”

You yelped as you turned to face a tall male, he had bluish grey eyes, salt and pepper like hair that was combed to the side with a few strategically placed pieces. He wore a red suit that looked very very expensive, covered in a sash with a jeweled brooch on his chest pocket.

He held his hand out for you and you took it gently allowing him to pull you closer to him, he chuckles at your wide eyed expression and the blush that covered your cheeks. 

“I’m guessing that this is your first time here, non?” He asked and you gave him a sheepish grin.

“I-is it that obvious?..” 

“Well, You look like a child in a candy shop, my darling.” 

You pout and he only laughs softly as he guides you in a dance, so the two of you would end up blending in with crowd as they moved around. You placed your hands on his shoulders as he guides you, you weren’t the best dancer, one doesn’t get much experience dancing with the broomsticks while cleaning up.

“What brings you here tonight?..” He asks and you think for a bit. Why did you want to come? Was it just to get out of the house and experience this before? Or did you actually think that you had a chance with the King?..

“Ah..Just to get out, My Step mother is quite..overbearing..”

“Hmm, I can understand that.” He answered as he twirled you, making you grip onto him a little tighter. He grins softly as he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Do not worry Ma belle..I got you..”

God his voice could make you melt, this man was certainly charmer..he reminded you so much of your dear friend. The way he teased you certainly was the same, bringing a fiery blush to your cheeks.

“What about the King?”

“Hmm?..Oh..well I don’t think i’m in the league for him..Look at me..and I mean he’s THE KING, not some lowly aristocrat..” You answer and he hums in response. 

“You never know, The King may be wanting a genuine, raw connection. Not one for money..” The male said and you tilted your head. You hadn’t thought about that. If you were a royal, you would definitely want to marry someone who wasn’t a royal. Someone who accepted you for who you were, and not just for the title that came with it.

“I guess so..I would hate it..you know? I would want to be able to choose who I want..and not for money or status..” You say and He nods along with you before he pulls away a bit.

“Shall we? I get a bit overwhelmed with crowds for too long..” The male says softly and you nod, taking his hand as he leads you out of the ballroom. 

The two of you walk and talk for a bit, he makes you laugh, and you make him. He compliments you and you return them as quick as he dishes them. You couldn’t see it, but his heart was pounding inside of his chest, never had he ever felt like this before, and never had you.

This was the first time you’ve ever been treated equal...let alone by a man.

So when he approached you once more, backing you against one of the pillars outside, his lips inches away from yours..

You didn’t push him away.

Maybe it was a bit risky to share such a moment with a man you just met, but the way he spoke to you, it lit something inside of you, like something was calling you towards him.

He hikes one of your legs up onto his waist as he presses himself closer to you, his lips brush against your before he finally places his lips against yours. He tastes of expensive wine and light cigarettes, His lips moved against yours as it was going to be the last time he was going to kiss you. 

His hands started to wander, traveling up your dress and caressing your legs as he tried pulling you closer and closer. 

“Tu es si parfait, mon bijou..” He practically growled against your lips before pulling away to trail kisses down your neck. You whimper softly and tilt your head to the side, allowing him more access to your neck.

“You don’t know how long I've been wanting to get you alone like this…”

“Watching you everyday..waiting..”

“Mon précieux petit bijou... je ferai en sorte que tu ne puisses jamais me quitter.”

You freeze at his words. 

“W-what did you call me..?” You ask as he pulls away, still holding your hands in his. He smirks and chuckles softly as he runs a hand through his hair.

“My Jewel…It seems you’ve caught on to me..” He starts as he then moves to get on one knee infront of you. 

“My name..Is Lawrence…King Lawrence…your precious jewelry seller…” He says as he holds your hand and you could only look at him in horror.

The man…the man you found yourself..falling for..always wanting to see again…

Was the King.

“I disguise myself regularly. To go out amongst the common folk, mingle with folks in my kingdom. Something i picked up from my son.” He informed as he places a kiss to the back of your hand.

“You..You’ve been nothing but a darling to me. You treated me with respect then…and you treated me with respect now.”

He then stood up, pulling you towards him once more, this time with a harsher grip as his eyes darkened a bit. “..you’ve stolen my heart…and I dont see myself with anyone else but you.”

You started to back away from him. “I..I your highness..I can-”

He shushed you. “Lawrence. Call me Lawrence. And theres no you can’t, I’ve chosen you. You will be my Queen. There is no one else I’d rather call mine.”

For every step you took back, he took another one forward. He continued walking towards you, rolling up his sleeves as he tilts his head.

“You are mine…and I refuse to let you go. You signed your fate the day you met me.”

Your mind was racing. Thats why he gave you the invitation, the gifts, the teasing…how could you be so stupid!?

You were about to respond to him when you hear the clock tower ring out, and you whipped your head around.

12:00am. 

You quickly turned on your heel and booked it, ignoring his yelling behind you. You had to get back to Ms. Pauling, you had to. 

“GUARDS! STOP HER! THAT WOMAN IS THE FUTURE QUEEN ON THIS KINGDOM!”

You looked behind you and saw as several guards came from corners, rushing to join him in chasing you. You yelped out as you sped up, trying to run as fast as these heels could take you.

You reached the large staircase where you had entered and began running down only to trip up. You got sent tumbling to the ground, crashing at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Ma belle!”

 You looked up and saw him standing at the top of the stairs, he saw you injured at the bottom and came running. You quickly gathered your dress and whatever strength you had left in you and went running towards the carriage, abandoning the heel that you had lost on the staircase. “

When you made it back to the carriage, you spooked the carriage operator and they were about to ask when you yelled: “Just go!!”

The carriage began moving and you could hear the sounds of guards yelling, trying to get the carriage to stop. You clutched your chest as the carriage made its way back to your home at breakneck speeds. You lean against the window.

Maybe your Step mother was right. You shouldn’t have gone at all..

You should’ve stayed home.

—-

The next day, the kingdom was up in arms. 

The king was traveling through city after city, home after home, looking for someone he called Mon bijou..his jewel..

You were home, cleaning, trying to forget that night with him. You were too afraid to go to the market, under fear that you would run into him again.

Luckily your Step Mom did need anything, and if she did, recently she just went her daughters instead of sending you.

The four of your were home today, You were busy in the kitchen while your Step Mother, Denice and Ana chatted about what was going on.

“I wonder who this mystery girl is!”

“Right! They got to dance with king!”

“And she just ran?! Such a dummy!”

You sigh as you listen to them..’They wouldn’t understand..’  You thought as you finished sweeping in the kitchen.

You then jolted as the front door was knocked on. Your Step mother went to open it, and you peeked around the corner, seeing that it was two members of the royal guard. 

“His majesty demands to see all of the maidens of this house.”

Your Step mother eagerly pushed Denince and Ana forward, “These are my two daughters, sir. Aren’t they lovely?.” 

You watched from your spot, and locked eyes with one of the guards and felt a shiver go down your back as he beckoned you. “You too.”

Your step mother looks over to you and she sneers, “She’s just the maid. She was not even at the ball the other night.” But the guard made you come forward anyways, dragging you to stand next to your sisters, watching as they struggled to fit into the glass slipper. You watched as they struggled, trying to do anything to make their foot fit into the slipper until the guards finally snatched it from them. 

“C'est assez!”

You lifted your head and you felt your blood run cold as standing in the doorway was the King himself. “Ma Belle…It is time for you to stop playing these games. Time for you to come home to your darling Husband.”

Your Step mother stood up. “Your highness! You must be mistaken. This is just our maid! There is no way she could be the woman that you are looking for!” She says as she makes her daughters get up. “Are you sure my lovely daughters aren’t who you are looking for?.”

The King rolls his eyes and makes his way over to you. He grips your chin and angles your face up to face him. He tilts your head, and he chuckles. “I see..I left my mark..” He says as he trails his hand along your neck. “Guards. We are done here. I’ve got my darling.” 

“That’s impossible! There's no way that she could be her! Look at her! She’s nothing bu-”

A loud bang was heard and you jolted as blood splattered a bit on your face and clothes as well as the King’s.

You opened your eyes and looked in horror as there was now a bullet through Ana’s head as she was now slumped against her sister who was screaming over her dead body.

King Lawrence then turned to your Step Mother and smirks. “Unless You want to lose another daughter, Shut that one up.”

He then moves to caress your face,leaning down to kiss your lips, not caring that your step sister blood was on your face. 

“Now…let’s go home, mon bijou.”

No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing

The dream that you wish will come true....

[Prev][Next]

[trashy-corvian]

*taps mic*

Lucifer has a feathered tail, because I say so and he’d be so peett

Mammon collects MC’s things and makes a nest for MC

Leviathan is a NOT venomous! He’s a constrictor, he is long boi I love him Satan’s hooves have secret glitter, because yassified Unicorns say so

Asmo glows under black light

Beelzebub with bug like features cures my fear of bugs.

Belphegor as a cowboy (bullboy? Trans fem belphie??)

Diavolo puts MC on a pile of gold and laughs that his hoard is finally complete (dragon)

Barbatos is semi-aquatic/amphibious so he enjoys swimming (he caught Levi how to swim?? Real!!)

Lucifer never showing his tail in public because it gives away his emotions. You'll get face full of feathers at least once

Mammon collects your things, but also gives your little trinkets he thinks you'll like. Pillow fort/nest to combine human and demonic urges for a safe cuddle place

Levi eating a whole animal so he can spend weeks without eating while it digesting, so he can game/watch anime in peace no gag reflex

Satan's glitter is flammable. He leaves burning trail when he's angry. He's a real trailblazer

Club owners making special black light parties so they can attract the Avatar of Lust to their place

Beelzebub has non-verbal days when he communicates in buzzez

Belphegor who hates being alone for long. Belphegor who, rhe first few months, needs someone in the room with him at all times after the year in the attic

Diavolo who values you more than anything. You became a crown jewel in his vision of the future united Realms. His desire to show how amazing you are comes from his pride. You chose him after all

Barbatos touching you without his gloves because he knows you will never be repulsed by him. cough free lube source cough who said that

[riddlerosehearts]

list of acd canon sherlock holmes things i absolutely love

(and am going to mostly put under a readmore because i made most of this list while rereading the entire canon so it is very long! listen i just think sherlock holmes is the best character ever and i need to share my love for him--)

immediately upon being introduced to watson he grabs him by the sleeve, starts excitedly showing off his bloodstain testing experiment, and claps his hands “looking as delighted as a child with a new toy”. once he finishes, his eyes glitter and he puts his hand on his heart and bows “as if to some applauding crowd conjured up by his imagination”.

watson: “i object to rows because my nerves are shaken”

holmes: “do you include violin playing in your category of rows?” he asked, anxiously

he’s noted to be extraordinarily knowledgeable and zealous in his studies, and yet on the same page it’s stated that he doesn’t know the earth travels around the sun and once watson tells him about it he immediately decides to forget about it because it’s not relevant to his work. this is where the famous “brain attic” monologue comes in.

watson writes this list about him and then throws it into the fire in despair:

has a habit of laughing in a way that’s described as bursting into an “explosion” or “roar” of laughter

frequently does this at crime scenes:

enlists a gang of street orphans to help him on his cases, pays them for their work, and generally treats them as equals but also playfully talks to them like a general to his soldiers

plays the violin for watson to help him get to sleep

is incredibly knowledgable on anything from different types of tobacco, to the ways one's trade can influence the form of their hands, to medieval pottery and stradivarus violins. and yet, i reiterate, does not know the earth revolves around the sun.

has a tendency of waxing poetic about the meaningless of existence, particularly when he’s bored from not having any cases to work on

once said about a dog “i would rather have toby’s help than that of the whole detective force of london”

used the word “doggy” when speaking to toby

once told watson “i don’t wish to be theatrical” despite all evidence to the contrary

disguises himself as an old man just to play a prank on watson

watson: “i think i had better go”

holmes: “not at all, doctor. stay where you are. i am lost without my boswell.”

is known to wiggle in his chair when he gets excited about a case

discovers that a man has tricked his own stepdaughter into a fake marriage so he can keep her at home and control her life and inheritance. acknowledges that said man hasn’t done anything illegal but still tells him “there never was a man who deserved punishment more” and that he ought to get whipped for what he did, and then goes to actually get his hunting crop, causing the man to run out the door at top speed

let a criminal go free because it turned out the man he murdered was trying to force said criminal’s daughter into an unwanted marriage

was suddenly made to participate in the wedding of someone he was tracking for a case, came home and laughed about it for several minutes, exclaimed “well, really!”, laughed for several more minutes, and only then did he actually tell watson what happened

responds to the king of bohemia insulting irene adler and saying she’s not on his level by saying coldly: “from what i have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level to your majesty”, which is basically him saying “actually she’s way better than you, so fuck off”

refused to shake said king’s hand

built a pillow fort in a client’s house so he could think better

let a poor jewel thief go because he cried, because it was christmas and therefore it was the season of forgiveness, and because the case was really easy anyway so it’s not his fault if the police are too stupid to solve it themselves

always reassures clients that they can trust him and watson and speak freely around them

is willing to waive his fee for clients who can’t afford to pay him, because according to him his profession is its own reward

this entire scene from speckled band when he gets confronted by his client’s abusive stepfather:

this nice little example of the gentleness he often displays with his clients:

the adventure of the copper beeches. just, all of it. a woman he doesn’t know comes to holmes for advice about a potential job she’s interviewed for and they both agree it sounds incredibly sketchy, she says she’s gonna take it anyway because she needs the money, and he’s like “well i wouldn’t want any sister of mine doing something like this but FINE i guess, just please write to us and let us know if you’re okay and if anything bad happens we’ll drop everything and come help you immediately”, and then the job does in fact turn out to be super sketchy and they drop everything and get on a train as soon as she writes to them

sometimes spends several hours out on walks through the park or the town with watson just relaxing and talking with him for the sake of it, despite watson frequently noting that holmes doesn’t have much appreciation for nature

“we have had the good fortune to bring peace to many troubled souls. i trust that we may do the same for you,” he says “in his easy, genial way” to a potential client who’s clearly very upset and sleep-deprived

is completely wrong about a particular case and asks watson to remind him of that case next time he gets overconfident

is noted by watson to be very neat and methodical in his methods and way of dress, while simultaneously being one of the messiest people ever who keeps his tobacco inside a persian slipper and his unopened letters held up by a knife in the center of his mantelpiece, keeps tons of criminal relics which apparently somehow end up in the butter dish sometimes, and keeps countless stacks of papers and documents all over the place

tells watson anecdotes about his past just to avoid cleaning up said documents

deliberately knocks over a table, shattering a glass fruit bowl which then sends oranges rolling all over the room, and then blames it on watson and runs away

says snarky things like “when gregson or lestrade are out of their depth–which, by the way, is their normal state” and “you’ve done very well, watson! it’s too bad you’ve missed everything of importance”

laughs when watson suggests he’s being modest about his abilities

picked up a rose and got all sappy and poetic about it

more specifically, picked up a rose and said that religion can be a science which involves a lot of careful deduction, and that flowers are a source of hope and proof of the goodness of god due to the fact that they aren’t a necessary part of life but are still so beautiful anyway

recovered an incredibly valuable government treaty for a client and had it served to him on a platter at breakfast because, in his own words, he “never can resist a touch of the dramatic”

faked his death and then revealed to watson that he was still alive in a manner that even he admitted was unnecessarily dramatic

had a full-scale wax model of himself created and used it to fool his enemies

made a diagram out of breadcrumbs to explain something to watson

broke into a blackmailer’s house for a case because he believed it to be morally justifiable, and admitted that he always thought he might make a good criminal

held watson’s hand while they were burgling said house together

twice

allowed said blackmailer to be murdered in front of him by one of his victims and then refused to take the case when asked because he just hated the guy that much

“flushed up with pleasure” when watson complimented him

asked watson to sell his medical practice and move back into 221b with him after the death of his wife. and then secretly gave a relative of his a ton of money to buy watson’s medical practice at the highest price watson would ask for, just so they could live together again

was nearly brought to tears by lestrade saying he was proud of him

let a dog lead him around on a case, multiple times in different stories

was very gentle with a client who he knew to be the victim of an abusive marriage and allowed the man who killed her husband to go free out of sympathy for their situation

noticed watson looking sad and touching his war wound and tried to cheer him up by echoing his thoughts and providing a deduction of how he knew what he was thinking

mentioned watson’s sparkling eyes in said deduction

talked about nothing but violins and his favorite violinist for an hour while he and watson had lunch together

likes going to classical music concerts and getting lost in the music

does scrapbooking

chuckles and rubs his hands together when he’s happy

this:

takes getting called "the devil himself" as a compliment

let a killer go because he had only killed in retaliation for the unjust murder of his lover, and holmes felt that he might’ve done the same if someone were to kill the woman he loved

on a completely unrelated note tells a guy who shoots watson “if you had killed watson you would not have got out of this room alive”

also reacted like this when watson got shot:

went undercover to supposedly give a guy secret government intelligence documents, and then gave him a book about bees instead

frequently disguised himself either for cases or just to fool watson and was noted to be a great actor

once disguised himself as an old woman with a parasol

tried the best he could to talk a young woman out of marrying a man who had a history of “collecting” women for sport and destroying their lives, and admitted to watson that he thought of her as he would think of his own daughter

was prone to “imp-like moods”

sent watson a message to come over at once ("if convenient--if inconvenient come all the same") just so he could infodump to him about dogs

wasn’t surprised that a dog died of grief shortly after its owner’s death, because of “the beautiful, faithful nature of dogs”

listened with great sympathy to a depressed woman who wanted to tell him her tragic story, picked up on hints that she was planning to commit suicide, talked her out of it by convincing her that her life does have value and then called her brave for choosing to live

got lost in thought looking out the window at the publicly funded elementary schools and randomly went on about how he believes they and the children who attend them are beacons of a brighter future

made hot cocoa for watson

shook hands with a baby

retired to the countryside to live on a farm and become a beekeeper.

[marzipanandminutiae]

more crimson peak HCs?

The Sharpes don't drink alcohol, except when they're running the con and/or courting investors and need to appear normal around other people (wine with dinner being de rigeur among the upper classes back then). Any interest they might have had in it was killed by their father's drunken rages long ago.

The baby wasn't the first time Lucille got pregnant, or the last. Just the only time she tried to keep it. before, and after their son died, she ended the pregnancies with a homebrew pennyroyal tincture and never told Thomas. There haven't been many, since malnutrition during puberty left her not overly fertile, but there have been others.

Edith had her ears pierced when she was eight, after Eunice taunted her for being "too scared" to do it. Her mother caught her in the bathroom with a needle, working up the nerve, and insisted that they have a jeweler do it properly- many had similar methods to modern professional piercers, albeit less sterile.

Lucille's were done by a sympathetic housemaid around the same age, the old-fashioned way, with a needle in the attic. For many years she just wore the loops of silk thread used to keep the holes open while healing, for fear that actual earrings would get ripped through her earlobes during a beating. After the asylum, where obviously no earrings OR thread were allowed, she re-pierced them herself.

This one is very common fanon: Lucille's hair was forcibly cut off in the asylum, and now she has hangups about it. Specifically people touching it. In OT3 scenarios, Edith has to earn Hair-Touching Privileges, and it's a very big deal when she does.

Edith calls the dog Dante, to honor his Italian roots.

The Sharpes' china set is NOT actually Royal Crown Derby Old Imari 2451, but an identical Davenport imari pattern that was produced until the 1880s. Just seems like something their family would have bought in more prosperous times, and the RCD imari started being produced only after Davenport folded. (Note: in the movie it is in fact the RCD imari- I own a teacup and saucer set used in the filming; can confirm)

Thomas keeps trying with the mines not because of actual interest, but because he's trying to be a better Sharpe patriarch than his father. He'd be much happier- and make more money -as a maker of luxury clocks and automata.

Lucille's French is better than Thomas' grammatically, but because he had lessons and she taught herself out of books, his accent is better.

Edith does not love Alan romantically, and never will. I always feel like pairing them up as a couple is kind of a cop-out for a movie that does so much to avoid the "this woman's love is a prize for this man to win" trope and show a healthy friendship where one person is in love with the other, but respects that she doesn't feel the same way (especially rare for M/F friends where the man is the lover). They might get married platonically after the events of the movie, but I don't like imagining that Edith falls in love with him. The official novelization does this. The official novelization is a bunch of dreck.

Eunice is aroace; she's only concerned about getting married so she can continue having a comfortable lifestyle. And maybe also get away from her mother. She'll never live to see a term coined for that, of course, but that doesn't mean the feeling doesn't exist.

And while we're on orientations, Edith is bi and thinks all women are. She's never talked about it with anyone or encountered any references to it in fiction (or homophobic medical texts), so she just blithely assumes it's the norm. Again, for women. She's not sure about men; probably they're the same way, though.

Lucille is gay and will never figure that out because, even though her feelings for Thomas are not normal adult attraction, the sex is physically pleasurable and they love each other so much generally that she'll never untangle it from what she (unwillingly) feels for other women. Even in an OT3 scenario, she will always assume that the ways she feels about Thomas and Edith are the same, so she couldn't possibly be An Exclusive HomosexualTM.

Thomas is straight. Very few people who've met him- and who knew that Gay was a possibility -have believed this, but it's true.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Historic Federal Era 1742 Chanceford Hall mansion is for sale in Snow Hill, MD. It's currently a bed & breakfast and is like stepping back in time. 6bds, 7ba, 5,172 sq ft, $849,900.

Gorgeous formal Federal home. Usually, they are painted Federal Blue, but I really like the green.

Isn't this beautiful jewel toned emerald green?

Look at this little built-in cupboard and the detail on the fireplace surround.

Original hardware on the door.

Gorgeous dining room.

Impeccably maintained home.

Check out this kitchen. The fireplace is original, but the reno is wonderful. Love the corbels on the island.

It's a real chef's kitchen - commercial appliances for the B&B.

It's an eat-in kitchen, too. Nice for the family.

Beautiful bedrooms. I'm wondering if the furnishings are included, b/c even though the listing says that you can use it as a B&B &/or a private residence, "Every guest you have will forever be telling stories of your amazing home to their friends years after they have come to stay."

Each bedroom has its own ensuite.

Also, according to the listing, the home is so special, it's been featured in several magazines. This large room has a sink.

Right across from the sink there's a nice big built-in closet.

The rooms are large enough to easily fit 2 beds.

This looks like the owner's bedroom.

Nice sun room.

Little alcove w/coffee, books and games for guests.

This room in the attic looks like a family member's bedroom and bath.

This private office would make a great studio.

Lap pool under a pergola + a patio.

1.10 acres of land.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/209-W-Federal-St-Snow-Hill-MD-21863/37765499_zpid/

[andypantsx3]

Deceiving the Duke | 8 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 2.9k of 30k words | 8th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

The Utsushimis were quiet the entire carriage ride home.

It wasn’t until you were through the doorway of their townhome that Mrs. Utsushimi seemed to snap, grabbing your hair and marching you up the stairs towards your attic bedroom.

“What were you thinking, you wretched girl!” she cried, her voice shrill in your ear.

You couldn’t bring yourself to fight her off, knowing as she did that you had just ruined the family once and for all.

“I permitted this acquaintance with Lord Todoroki long enough, thinking you might turn his attentions to Caroline!” she shouted. “And this is what you’ve been doing instead? This is your contribution to preventing scandal?”

“Mama–” Caroline’s voice interrupted. You could just barely hear the worried pad of her slippers over Mrs. Utsushimi’s angry stomps.

“To your room, Caroline, I will speak with you later!” Mrs. Utsushimi said as the pair of you turned the corner to your tiny room.

She shoved you forward, and you stumbled, catching yourself over the bed frame.

“Mrs. Utsushimi, I’ll think of some way to fix it–” you said, but Mrs. Utsushimi shouted over you.

“Pack your things, you little harlot! You have until morning to disappear. You will not be receiving any of your wages, and if you dare seek employment with Camie, so help me I will end you myself!” she bellowed.

She grabbed the door handle and slammed it closed with a strength you’d never known she possessed–rattling the wall and sending a puff of dust into the air from the rafters. You heard her stomp back down the stairs, and heard another door slam on the floor below. And then it was quiet—deafeningly quiet.

A sudden sob welled up in your throat, surprising you with its force. You sank onto your bed helplessly, breath coming in short little hiccups.

What had you done?

How could you have forgotten yourself so foolishly? How could you have lost sight of your objective, this close to the finish line?

It wasn’t enough that you’d had a duty to the family, either. And a duty to your parents, to send back money. But you’d also had a duty to Shouto–Lord Shouto, that was–god, how could you have ever addressed him as Shouto?–to uphold your respective positions in society.

And yet you’d let him go right to your head, like the bubbly fizz of champagne. He was so kind and good and utterly beautiful, inside and out. You’d been overwhelmed by him–but that was no excuse.

He was too honorable. And he would suffer for it. You’d trapped him in matrimony to a woman who was already married.

And he had to be made aware, so he could call off the wedding.

You could disappear–let him find out weeks from now, when the news of the real Camie’s elopement was sure to break, save yourself the face in the process. It might be the only way that Caroline could still have her wedding to Mr. Awase, if he wasn’t too scandalized by the idea of a runaway sister.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to let it happen that way.

You had betrayed Lord Shouto–and you needed to be the one to close this ridiculous sham out.

You would tell him.

You spent the next few minutes packing your things into your small valise, the one you’d come to the Utsushimi’s doorstep with all those years ago as a wide-eyed teenager. You shed Camie’s fine gown and Caroline’s pretty paste jewels, her silk flower she’d lent you. You folded them all and put them on the bedside and changed into the dress of your station, feeling the loss a little too keenly.

It was disappointing, how much you’d come to like living as a gentlewoman, when you’d known all along you could never have that.

You took Lord Shouto’s calling cards out from under your mattress, where you’d squirreled them away like the lovelorn little rat you were–and noted his address. It was still an early hour, far too early to see him–but this was urgent, and it would take you some hours to cross the city on foot, to the fashionable part where the Todoroki family kept a series of townhomes.

You crept down the stairs quietly, and let yourself out into the night, and began the long trek to Lord Shouto’s.

The early-morning air was cool and damp, and it helped you clear your head. As you walked, you rehearsed all of the things you wanted to say to him, determinedly pushing down the sick feeling that rose like bile in your throat.

The sun was just barely rising, a deep red tinge at the edge of the sky, when you found the placard indicating Lord Shouto’s address.

There was a light at one of the windows on the second floor, the flickering glow of a candle. You wondered if it was Lord Shouto’s room–if he would be awake at this hour, still, unable to stomach the thought of the marriage trap you’d sprung on him.

Well, you would soon put him out of his misery.

With your heart hammering in your mouth, you knocked on the door.

For a long while there was silence, and then a manservant opened the door, looking down at you with a dour expression.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I’m here to see Lord Shouto,” you said.

The manservant looked over your shoulder and squinted, as if a proper chaperone might manifest behind you–but then his eyes seemed to catch on your dress. Not a proper gentlewoman–just a woman.

“What business have you with His Grace at this early hour?” he asked suspiciously.

You opened your mouth, wondering how exactly you might explain it, when a familiar head of red and white hair poked over the man’s shoulder.

“Lord Shouto!” you said, equal parts relieved and horrified to see him.

He looked rumpled, but still wore those dark shirtsleeves and waistcoat, as if he had not yet gone to bed. Those mismatched eyes found yours, and a curious expression came over his handsome face.

“Tell me you did not walk here on your own?” he said, something strangely hard in his voice.

You wondered how angry he must be with you, for it to show in his voice.

“I did. But please, Your Grace. I have some things you need to hear, it should only be a moment,” you said.

Lord Shouto gestured the manservant aside, and offered you his hand, helping you up the last step though you did not need it. You accepted, wondering if this was to be the last time you would get to touch him.

“My study should be best,” he said, and led you down a long, winding hall, to a room at the back of the house where a candle was still glowing on a desk. It was large, and would have been intimidating were it not filled with squashy, comfortable looking furniture and stuffed with all manner of books. There were tens of shelves of them, and even more were piled up around the room in teetering towers.

Lord Shouto’s desk was absolutely carpeted in papers, and your hands itched to tidy them.

Once you were inside, Lord Shouto closed the door behind you. You took a deep, steadying breath–and then–

“You should not have come alone. The streets are dangerous at night,” he said.

You turned, to look into his face. “My lord, I treasure your concern. However, you’ll want to hear–”

“The Utsushimis let you come alone?” he repeated, looking as though he couldn’t stomach the thought. His care warmed something inside you, but you knew you could not let him persist in his delusion that you were a gentlewoman. There was nothing wrong with a servant walking the streets alone.

You gathered yourself up.

“I am not Camie Utsushimi,” you said.

Lord Shouto’s eyes darted up to yours, and he paused. His brow raised slowly, but his expression did not change otherwise. The flickering light of the candle cast fluttering shadows over his face, dancing in the hollows of his cheeks, smudging under the dark line of his thick lashes.

He did not offer a reply, and you stood in an awkward silence, until you realized he meant for you to explain further.

“I–my lord, I never meant…I did not think…” you fumbled, until your eyes flashed up to his face again, handsome and solemn. And you realized he deserved the truth, not your excuses.

“No, regardless of what I meant or why I did it,” you tried again. “I have deceived you. I am not Camie Utsushimi. I am not even a gentlewoman. I am called Y/N, and I was a servant in the Utsushimis’ home until this morning.”

Lord Shouto watched you still, saying nothing, and so you continued.

“Camie Utsushimi eloped days before the opening of the season, to Lord Inasa Yoarashi. They are honeymooning now, but she will return to Musutafu soon enough, and our plot will be revealed. I wanted…” you cast your eyes down, unable to look at his face. “I wanted you to find out from me. I wanted to give you the opportunity to announce you are calling off the marriage, before you are caught up in the scandal too.”

You drew in a shivering breath. “I am sorry.”

For a long moment, Lord Shouto said nothing. You could not imagine what he was thinking, how he might even begin to respond to something like this.

After several minutes of silence, he finally moved. There was the soft tread of his boots across the floor. You stayed frozen, unable to anticipate what he was doing. His index finger curled gently under your chin, tipping your face up to his.

“You think I did not know,” he said.

Your mouth opened in shock.

He–what? He knew?

“You–? How could you know?” you asked, when you were finally able to gather the trappings of language back to you. “My lord, what do you mean–?”

“The way you behaved, from our first meeting,” Lord Shouto said in his deep tone. “I suspected you were either a very uneducated debutante–quite at odds with Miss Caroline–or a pretender. And then, when I called on you–you answered the door as a servant would. The Utsushimis’ sitting room was barren of any portrait of you, but had plenty of Caroline and another girl who looks just like her–who I am assuming must be the real Camie.”

Fuck! So he had seen something then!

His fingers burned on your skin, and you were all too aware of his touch when you swallowed nervously. Horror and embarrassment burned hot across your skin, igniting your cheeks.

“My lord, I can only apologize and promise that you will never have to see me again,” you said, fighting down the sudden hot sting of tears behind your eyelids. “You were kinder to me than I deserved, and I–-if I had known how good you were, I should have never done it.”

“And if I want to see you again?” Lord Shouto asked carefully.

You glanced up at him, cringing when a tear escaped you in your surprise. “Lord Shouto, please. Do not continue to be kinder to me than I deserve. I will not ever be able to work again in Musutafu, besides.”

Lord Shouto’s thumb came up, and brushed your tear away. You froze, a cocktail of confused emotion burbling up inside you.

“Tell me why you did it,” Lord Shouto said softly. You stared up into those mismatched eyes, watched his long, shadowy lashes fall over his perfect cheekbones when he blinked.

You did not want to say it. But…

“For money, my lord,” you said, hating the way honesty tasted in your mouth. “I send a stipend back to my family. The Utsushimis promised steady wages and a bonus, and future employment with Camie and Lord Inasa when we were discovered. I would have money for my family, and get to see my friend again. And I–”

You took a shuddering breath in, embarrassed with just how open your emotions must be to Lord Shouto. “I did not think I would befriend anyone. I did not know there was anyone like you, or Miss Uraraka, or Lady Asui. I thought all the gentry ridiculous and overweening. Stupidly, I did not understand that it would be so easy to become close–that I would directly affect anyone…”

You had to stop, then, clamping down on a fresh wave of tears. You would not cry in front of Lord Shouto–not when you were at fault here.

Lord Shouto watched you silently, for a long time, your face still held in his grip. You just watched him helplessly, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Eventually, he spoke, his thumb sliding absently across your cheek, again. “Will you come with me?” he asked.

Your brows knit. “Come with you–? To…where, my lord?”

“To the palace,” he said. “To meet Her Highness, Princess Momo.”

All the blood in your veins iced over, and you could feel your body drawn into itself defensively, your hands curling into fists at your side.

There could be nothing good for a deceitful maid at the palace. Nothing good in meeting Princess Momo, especially if he planned to tell her what you’d done.

But…perhaps that was exactly it.

Perhaps Lord Shouto meant to let her pass judgment on your crimes against him. To deliver her royal justice upon you. He was rumored to be her impending fiancee–and there had to be a price to pay, for attempting to entrap the future prince of the empire in a marriage scheme that might have disrupted their union.

Fear and apprehension prickled up your spine. Your gut churned in great heaving turns, and you felt like you might be sick.

But you had come to set things right, hadn’t you? You had come to do the right thing by Lord Shouto, when you could have just as easily fled the city.

You could…No, you would see this through.

“Yes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I will.”

Lord Shouto’s hand finally dropped from your chin, and he bade you wait a moment. He stepped over to his desk and scribbled something down on a bit of parchment, and then sealed it and stepped out into the hall. You heard him conduct a brief conversation with a manservant, and then he ducked back in to tell you he wouldn’t be a moment.

You nodded, afraid of what you’d sound like if you spoke. When the door closed behind him, you let the shivers come over you, gripping Lord Shouto’s desk against a sudden bout of lightheadedness.

You briefly considered running, turning and contemplating your valise where you’d deposited it next to the door.

But suddenly all the fight had left you.

If this is truly what Lord Shouto wanted, then you owed him this much, didn’t you?

When he returned, he’d changed into something decidedly less rumpled and considerably more appropriate for an audience with royalty. You felt conspicuous in your graying maid’s garb, but there was nothing to be done for it.

Lord Shouto led you outside, where a carriage had already been arranged, and he surprised you by handing you up into the carriage as though you were any sort of a proper lady. Your face went hot, despite the cool prickle of apprehension that had settled into your bones.

He settled in across from you, those mismatched eyes blisteringly hot on your skin.

And then, with a final word from him, the carriage rattled off towards the palace, the wheels clattering over the cobblestones in the early morning quiet.

[crownedwithstars]

Valinorean and Eressëan attics, cellars, backrooms, solars and other private spaces are often filled with very ancient relics from distant times - Míriel's embroideries from happier days, jewels and trinkets brought from Middle-earth, Aegnor's cloven helmet that is the only thing left of him in the world of the living, prized and famous weapons, Lúthien's magical cloak, bits and pieces of armour from Middle-earth, Finwë's favourite brooch made for him by Fëanor - that have somehow ended up in the closets of relatives (near or distant).

Elves don't really know what to do with these things (some of them are obsolete, others are just too precious or strange to be actually used), but since time works differently in the Undying Lands and things don't rot, rust or decay, even objects brought from Middle-earth stay as they were, they keep filling whatever storage space they were stuffed into.

Enter Frodo Baggins and Bilbo Baggins. They introduce the idea of the Mathom-house to the Elves, who get very excited about this concept and proceed to build their own Mathom-houses in Tol Eressëa and eventually even in Valinor proper. (Stuff gets lost in translation, though: these galleries are not called Mathom-houses, but Michel Delving, which is actually where the hobbits' Mathom-house was located in the Shire. Frodo and Bilbo are contented enough and eventually give up trying to clear it up; it's nice that a bit of the Shire will live on forever in the Undying Lands).

Michel Delving of Tol Eressëa is a huge hit and families of Elves come there to learn about the ancient days of Valinor and Middle-earth, gazing in wonder at the only tapestry made by Melian and her maidens that survived from Menegroth, small shattered pieces of the images of the Trees that Turgon made in Gondolin, a collection of rocks from beyond the Misty Mountains, weapons that struck down Balrogs and dragons, pictures of flowers and trees that long ago flowered in Middle-earth, and various objects that allegedly belonged to such legendary characters as Lúthien, Húrin, Elendil, Maedhros and so on. (The keepers of the house live in fear of the days when Galadriel comes and points out things, saying "that's a fake. that too. also that is so fake that even Annatar would call it out.")

There are painful memories, too. Who of the Arafinwëans would want to see Aegnor's helmet, the reminder of how violently he passed and how he will never return from Mandos? Neither Melian or the re-embodied Thingol bear to look at Lúthien's shadowy cloak. Fingon sees his on sword, with which he fought Gothmog, and must be escorted away shaking and wide-eyed (it takes a long sojourn in Lórien for him to recover).

At some point towards the end of his life, Frodo donates his most important artifacts to the collection: the Phial of Galadriel, the mithril shirt, the Sting and his Elven cloak of Lothlórien are given a place of honour and the brave Halfling who sacrificed so much to save his home is revered in the Undying Lands long after he is gone.

[sir-squibbly]

CRK OCs part 2. I don't have as much stuff for Crab Cake Cookie since she's more of a one-off character, but anyway, I will in fact spill a bit of lore.

Crab Cake Cookie runs a small restaurant in the Lower Town of the Creme Republic. Money is a bit hard to come by, but her main goal is to provide quality food for her people. She's a good friend of Perlemoen Cookie, although she's a bit upset that he doesn't visit often.

Perlemoen Cookie is just an ordinary newsboy from the Lower Town. There's nothing all that special about him, nor his family. At least, not until he found a weird gemstone from his family's attic. Something about this jewel was special, and he was heavily invested in where it came from. Unfortunately, he's gotten some attention from rather unpleasant cookies.