#lukas my beloved . my betrothed even

[tiny-smallest]

cruellest choir

Rating: T Characters: The Prince, Queen Vanessa Warnings: domestic violence since that’s what killed the Prince, as well as the lightest descriptions of sex and candid mention of the word but zero details about the act itself Description: It's a very old building. There are many pipes criss-crossing along the cellar ceiling, and they all make noise. The prince has known this house long enough to know what's in use based on which pipe is making noise.

It's how he knows what Vanessa is doing even from the cellar.

Also on AO3!

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Hi guess who has a new comfort character.

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The manor was a lovingly tended-to building. Always clean, always bright. Whichever member of the royal family had this place built--and Luka, who once knew this by heart, struggled to remember the name around an ever-growing haze of agony, cold, and numbness--clearly knew what they were doing when they had the house designed.

A large, gorgeous house with expensive, tasteful furnishings to show off the status of the family, but small enough to feel homey and cozy. Luka had visited an aunt or two as a child with giant, sprawling places to get lost in, and while it was fun to explore, he could not imagine living in such a place. Big, maze-like homes were fun to explore, but to live in? Luka couldn't imagine having so much space just to show off your wealth. Why not invest that in better places? A home full of nice furniture was one thing, but to occupy so much land when you would use maybe a small percentage of it just felt wasteful.

His own family home was not as big as his aunt's, but still quite large. But for the fact that the big space allowed for places to hide from his parents' endless screaming matches, he'd have wished for something more homey.

Vanessa's manor was the first place he'd ever felt truly at home in- though he would attribute that more to Vanessa herself rather than just the house. Her mother certainly hadn't made it feel like a home, the way her cold, ruthless eyes watched him anytime he so much as breathed near her daughter, the way she would cower and shiver in on herself when the queen's attention was drawn to her, but Vanessa had brought light and love to the place; the girl glowed whenever he stepped inside to see her, and would usher him into the kitchen to taste-test whatever new adventure she was attempting at the stove; her cookies were just the most heavenly thing to ever hit his tongue, and he was happy to try whatever she was testing at the time of his visit, especially since odds were he could stay far longer than taste-testing would actually require, and fill her time waiting for dough to rise or cookies to bake with conversation instead of forcing her to endure the wait alone.

The one silver lining of the queen was her ailing health; as heartless and cruel as Luka felt to think that, it was true that due to her fragility, she spent most of her time in her room, in her wheelchair, away from everyone else. So long as she remained in that room in her bitterness, the two of them could pass the hours however they liked, and always in bliss.

He tried, once, to coax the queen to join them. Just once. It ended with a slap to his face and a low, cold threat towards her daughter. He never tried again after that.

A week later the queen was discovered dead at the bottom of the stairs, wheelchair overturned at her side. Unnerving, but Luka couldn't pretend he was exactly... sorry.

It made him wonder if he was a bad person.

Vanessa was far more important, though- for all the clashes they'd had, this was her mother. He knew the complicated feelings that came with burying a parent who acted the way that woman did. For many hours they sat together in the attic observatory, in the armchairs by the telescope, and he held her.

It had been many months since the present-day Luka had seen that room, but he could still recall it clearly, especially as it was on that day. Vanessa, all in black, silent as the grave her mother would be lowered into, lay in his arms as he held her. The sun shone brightly that day through the many windows. He remembered the dust motes floating in the sunlight. Remembered thinking how many joyful hours they'd spent in this room, her seated in this same armchair watching him watch the stars, and wondering if this place would be forever tainted by the memory of what was happening at that very moment.

Remembered the moment the advisor stepped in and told Vanessa she would become the new queen, and how terrified she was.

Of course, she needn't be crowned right away, and she quickly agreed to wait a year or more to recover. Luka didn't mind. The queen's death was not entirely unexpected- little by little, the ailing monarch's duties had been transferred to Vanessa, but it so overwhelmed her that Luka quietly stepped in to handle them instead. This would mostly be business as usual, except now with the queen gone, they had the breathing room to think about where to go from here.

The bedroom came to mind. Luka of the present day watched his breath fog in front of him and let his sluggish thoughts step from the memory of the observatory and that day into the bedroom he moved into on the day he came to live with his betrothed. It was a gorgeous room and he instantly felt more at home there than he ever had in the place he was raised in. There was the cozy bed he missed dearly right now, the bedspread with stars and moons on it, and the comfy armchair, and the several bookshelves. The lovely wardrobe. The shelf he stored his violin on, and the cabinet in which he stored his paints and other art supplies. The neat little fireplace, the mantle of which he decorated with the presents his love had given him. The clothesline he eventually rigged from which to hang his paintings as they dried. The desk he spent so much of his life at as he worked to maintain the kingdom. He wrote out his application to school at that desk. He was so excited to send it off and more excited still to get a letter of acceptance back.

He spent so many nights in that room, dreaming, writing, playing, painting. So many nights spent reading. Vanessa was below him and upon hearing how miserable she was at night he took two cans and a string and rigged a tin can telephone for them and sent the other end down to dangle at her window.

Oh, the nights they spent talking until dawn. Sometimes he fell asleep, and the can would nearly slip from his grasp to fall out the window. She berated him for that, but he understood why. God help them if her mother caught them doing this. The can didn't need to risk banging against something and waking anyone.

He was always messing up, though. Maybe that was why he wanted to go to law school so terribly. Besides just the fact that he desperately needed to understand law better to handle the kingdom, besides just the fact that the passion to protect the innocent burned through his being, besides just the passion for understanding how things were run, itself... it would be nice if he could actually become a lawyer, and prove he was up to any task regardless how grueling it was.

The room below, though...

He thought about the bedroom he moved into after the queen's death, his beloved's room. Vanessa was frightened at first even though she wanted it, but when Luka stepped in and threw himself on the bed and rolled himself into a blanket burrito she broke into soft little giggles and tentatively followed him. It wasn't long before her room became their room.

Technically it wasn't proper for him to move in there until they were married, but despite Vanessa's fears, nobody seemed inclined to pick a fight with the young couple and Luka was relieved. Their wedding was inevitable anyway, so it wasn't like either of them were leading the other on. You would have to be blind or denser than a brick to not see how in love they were. Luka loved calling Vanessa 'my future wife' whenever he had the opportunity, and oftentimes to random strangers, just to feel the rush of love and joy it brought him and, if she were nearby, hers as well.

Fiancé. He had a fiancé. It had left him feeling like floating away.

How far away that seemed now.

The bed was soft and warm and big, and they reveled in curling into each other, bodies folded against one another like they were puzzle pieces meant to fit. Sometimes he would wake up and she would be so beautiful against him he could scarcely breathe.

And he got to do that every single morning, and would for the rest of their lives. There was no queen anymore to insist they stay apart and not touch each other too long.

Maybe it was that woman's obvious disdain for them both and their relationship and her ironclad belief they were off having sex behind her back every single second, but the second she was gone and the fear of their physical safety was off the table the topic had shyly come up. He truly no longer remembered if it was his or her idea but it turned out that the master bedroom with a lock that actually worked (he suspected the lock on his bedroom was broken for not innocent reasons) was good for more than just the mundane sweetness of sharing a sleeping space. It turned out to also be a great place for privacy to ensure their spiteful foray into something a touch more spicy stayed between them.

Why not? The dead queen had done everything she could short of ordering his imprisonment or death to keep them apart, had at every turn sneered her belief that his thoughts were lecherous and disgusting. How could anyone want her daughter but for her body?

Well, excuse you, ma'am. He wanted her for everything she was and spent his life proving it to her.

Oh, did he ever spend his life proving it to her.

If her mother was going to be so sure she was a floozy and he was a creep, and now she was dead and unable to harm them, what was the wrong in enjoying each other in every way they could? They'd be married soon enough. Didn't they want each other?

And... yes. He did. He wanted her so badly. In every aspect, every way; he wanted to get drunk on her presence until he was dizzy with it. Every part of his body screamed for want of her but in that moment it gathered mostly between his legs, and she felt the same, so why not indulge?

At the time it was the most frightening thing he'd ever done. It wasn't perfect. Vanessa was disappointed it wasn't like the fairytales and was very candid about what he did wrong. He was disappointed and upset that she was, that he hadn't been good enough to give her this.

Funny, how a memory can latch onto a room like that. That night was the first night that room didn't feel like home, her presence or no. Many times they allowed themselves to act on the things they felt in that room ended with him feeling like that; even with all of his love for her, that was one thing he couldn't seem to do right.

A weak laugh cracked free of his throat, puffed upwards in warmth and breath that he couldn't afford to spare. It would seem there were many things he couldn't do right. Why did he fail so terribly at love? He felt it so strongly that doing it should be so easy, but if he was any good at it, none of this would have happened.

If he was any good at loving her, she wouldn't always be so afraid he'd leave. He would not be down here right now.

A pipe above him groaned. The bathroom, he thought idly. His thoughts wandered with the pipe, remembering that big beautiful bathroom. He had been surprised by the size of that bathtub, but it didn't exactly take much adjustment to grow used to it. Maybe he didn't like wasteful, but that didn't mean he would refuse to indulge in a few choice luxuries, and sometimes after hunching over a desk for twelve hours he needed a hot bath and wanted to stretch out in it.

Vanessa preferred showers. He liked them too, but not nearly as long as she did. She would happily spend a whole hour just under the water, never mind the time needed to do the other things, regardless of what she might be late for if she did that. He once teased her for it, a giggling little Trying to boil yourself alive, again, are we? I know they're not fun but the daily briefings aren't that bad.

He didn't make that mistake again.

After he moved into Vanessa's room she, and he remembered this was her idea, floated the idea of taking a bath together. It was magical; in fact he'd argue it was better than the sex. It certainly ended with him feeling happier; he didn't mess up with this one. She was nearly comatose with happy beneath his touch as he washed her hair, massaging her scalp in small circles, carefully making his way through her long, golden tresses.

When she was happy, so was he. Watching her melt so readily beneath his hand and smile with sleepy love up at him may as well have turned his heart into a butterfly for how much it fluttered in his chest.

The pipe of the present drew him from his dozing dream, the hazy memories and near-sleep popping like the soap suds of long ago. He hung there for a few minutes in cruel reality once more, wishing he could fall back into a haze but unable to ignore the constant itch at the back of his mind.

That's the bathroom. The actual realization hit with a dropping of his stomach; he suddenly felt far more awake than he wanted to, even with exhaustion pulling on every part of him. There was only one reason the pipe for the bathroom's water would keep making that sound.

She's taking a shower.

She is taking a shower while I-

Something tore from his throat. He thought he had run out of tears hours ago, or maybe longer, but the cold wet tracks on his face proved him wrong. His breath fogged in front of him with his weak sobs, his chest aching from the inside out. Upstairs, a very different kind of fog would be filling the room he had once shared with her.

The pipe continued to sing, a haunting chorus that felt like it was growing louder and louder, drowning out his pitiful weeping until it silenced all together as he was pulled quietly, mercifully, into the soft blackness of unconsciousness.

[sassykittynoir]

True Friend’s kiss || Adrinette

Summary: Snow-white with a twist. That drabble was inspired by a discusion I had with my dear friends: @helgabatwrittings @miraculouslyinloveagain and @smileytrinity. I hope you’ll like it. A bonus scene might be coming soon. 

A hush fell over the meadow when a cloaked figure appeared at the edge of the forest. Not a single lament could be heard anymore throughout the land. The many birds bewailing the loss of the beloved princess fell silent at the Prince’s sudden appearance. 

The dwarfs stared with bathed breath at the man who would finally break the curse, sweep their dear child off her feet and ride off to the sunset on the back of his faithful steed. The task would be no easy feat, but determination shone in the Prince’s emerald green eyes. The fiery look was enough to ignite a glimmer of hope in the hearts of the most reluctant creature. 

In a glass case placed upon a ledge, basking in a pool of light, laid Snow-White. She looked ethereal in her peaceful slumber, the prince noted as he crossed the distance separating him from his soon-to-betrothed. Her fair skin was still as white as snow. Her hair, framing her face black as night, even the rosy tinge of her cheeks had changed not.

The prince’s heart was hammering against his chest in a steady staccato, threatening to burst out of his chest at any moment. A soft gasp of awe caught in his throat when his eyes fell upon her lips, red as a rose. 

“O- Oh thee fairest maiden of the land - Adrien remembered to recite - as thy beauty graces mine eyes, lest I under your spell!” He delivered his line, adverting his eyes from Marinette’s to stare at his audience on the stage. 

He rested his hands on Marinette's and interlaced their fingers together. “Allow mine lips to descend upon yours. For only a true love’s kiss can break this curse.” He declared to the audience. His voice breaking on the last word. 

A true love's kiss. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. Two, seconds ago, his heart had been pounding against his chest, now Adrien was convinced his heart had stopped beating altogether. His mouth, a mere inch away from Marinette's, was dry as parchment. Eyes widened in anticipation.

The stage around him was bustling with noise, as the seven dwarfs and woodland creatures played their parts. But amidst the gasps, and the nervous giggles around him, his ears still picked up on Marinette's sharp intake of breath. From the corner of his eyes he could see Nino mouthing the words "kiss her" from his seat on his makeshift director chair. 

So, kissed her he did. In a swift movement, Adrien captured Marinette’s lips with his. His brain short-circuited, as he lost himself in the heady sensation of the kiss. Slow and sweet. His hand moved on its own accord to cup his princess' cheek. Adrien couldn't bring himself to stop, not when Marinette's lips tasted like favorite cherry lipstick. He was pretty sure that was what heaven tasted li-- 

A loud clearing of a throat brought him back to earth. "Huh this is awkward." someone, probably Alix whispered in the background.  He reluctantly broke the kiss, a smug smile stretching on his lips when Marinette's chased his mouth, still dazed from the kiss. 

“And cut -- " Nino yelled. "Dude, that was a hell of a kiss. I appreciate the dedication. We will definitely win this contest!"  He exclaimed, voice bubbling with excitement.

"Finally." Aly intoned, frustration dripping with every word she pronounced. "I like you sunshine boy, but God help me if you had suggested another change to the script I wrote.” The satisfied smirk tugging the corners of her lips on her face belied her true feelings. She was ecstatic for Marinette who seemed to be floating on clouds nine. “To think he wanted Luka to kiss Marinette, instead” She mumbled to no one in particular. 

“Yeah...” Adrien chuckled, one hand rubbing his neck. “I’m glad Marinette is such a good friend. It would have been hard to have so much chemistry, otherwise!” He admitted with a sheepish smile, resolutely pretending not to hear the annoyed groans around him as he turned his attention to his girlfriend, teeth sinking onto his tongue to stop a laugh at Marinette’s dramatic eye roll. 

“You’re a troll.” She whispered, lowering her head to hide the blush creeping to her cheeks as her boyfriend helped her out of the coffin. The novelty of calling Adrien her boyfriend had not worn off, yet. It had been two weeks and the model still managed to give her butterflies with just one look.

Keeping their relationship a secret from their friends was quite the ordeal, but it felt necessary in order not to raise any suspicion about their alter ego. 

The news of Ladybug and Chat Noir dating had leaked a week ago and when Marinette suggested to hide the civilian part of their relationship, she didn’t quite expected Adrien to go such lengths to protect their secret. His execution was...chaotic, but oddly endearing.

“Maybe. But I’m your troll, bugaboo.” Adrien whispered back, the ten thousand watt smile he offered her made it all worth it.