#race announcer secretly in love with one of the horses

[johnnyspells]

[randomnameless]

Of all the masterful and progressive storytelling elements and themes conveyed by the humanity-defining, unparalled work of art in written format that is the Aeneid, which is your personal favorite?

I'm personally stuck between:

Every woman perceives herself as an innocent little child, has her ultimate goal be to give birth to children and start a family, and will see themselves as ugly and unworthy of love the second they have a mild inconvenience happen to them

Every man with an iota of self-esteem is secretly an evil violent sexist child-liking grapist who deserves to be beaten near to death for little to no reason, and only by either being a doormat to the women around them and allowing themselves to get cheated on with no actual protest or anger or being redeemed by the purity of heterosexual love can they ever hope to be anything more than human scum

Mixed-race people are inherently born wrong due to not solely belonging to a single race, needing to choose a singular side in order to ever find any sort of happiness, with the pain of the uncertainty being so great they'd genuinely be better off un-aliving themselves than to continue to live with such a massive burden

And, last but not least, genocide survivors are not only selfish cowards for not announcing to an entire continent that had just wiped out most of their race that they still had the things they were genocided for in the first place and choosing instead to lie to them to restore peace and order and avoid being killed simply for existing, but also people with comparable, if not inferior, suffering to someone who was tortured as a child and became a racist, imperialistic warmongerer who started a war just to gain more territory and finish the genocide her inspiration started because of it

Replying to an earlier ask I just thought about tying it with this one lol

The Aeneid is peak exemple of something touted as canon when it's pure headcanon, and when people try to explain how the many takes and "points" from that fic aren't in the games at all with links to the sources and all, those people are harassed and cyberbullied because I guess some people really are asses and don't like when others point out their ship isn't canon.

Now, back to your award winning list,

#1

Mixed-race people are inherently born wrong due to not solely belonging to a single race, needing to choose a singular side in order to ever find any sort of happiness, with the pain of the uncertainty being so great they'd genuinely be better off un-aliving themselves than to continue to live with such a massive burden

I would say this one takes the cake, with the added topping that this fic also portrays the "other" race as inferior, making you more violent and, in general less "human".

I recently learnt (you learn new things everyday!) the word used back then mulatto (mulâtre for us!) was used to described mixed-race people, the parallel being made with a mule being important, because a mule is neither a horse nor a donkey but something seen, back then, as "inferior" to both and that cannot produce offspring, aka - again i stress the "back then" era - something "wrong" that isn't supposed to exist.

And Billy feeling like she's wrong because she's mixed race feels really... well, in check with the theories of "back then" about mixed race people - hell, even in certain parts of the world today, being mixed race is seen as fucking bad thing and the mixed-race persons are discriminated against because they're not totally "A" but also "B" and "B" is seen as worthless/shitty.

I know some fics tackle dark themes and dark fics (iirc) don't have a happy ending, the author is free to do whatever they want after all it's their fic - but the way this fic tackles this issue, and how said resolution is touted in the fandom as something "good" - like how the fuck someone wanting to die because they are mixed-race became touted as "the pinnacle of the mc's story where they finally become A again, and get rid of their B blood!"???

#2

Every woman perceives herself as an innocent little child, has her ultimate goal be to give birth to children and start a family, and will see themselves as ugly and unworthy of love the second they have a mild inconvenience happen to them Every man with an iota of self-esteem is secretly an evil violent sexist child-liking grapist who deserves to be beaten near to death for little to no reason, and only by either being a doormat to the women around them and allowing themselves to get cheated on with no actual protest or anger or being redeemed by the purity of heterosexual love can they ever hope to be anything more than human scum

I'm cheating and grouping the two lol

It's the usual brand of sexism, and no, I don't think the pseudo "role reversal between who is an ass and who isn't" removes the sexism label, especially since women still want to start families and become Mothers (tm).

It's as if someone is saying they're not sexist because while they defend the tradwife movement (pure love! Must be pretty to be married! Babies!), they also think men deserve to die and be treated like subhumans or second rate humans who can be abused whenever a woman feels like it.

What is even the point? The message? If men BaD and "pure" women GoOd, if the "pure" women do the same thing as the men did, are they BaD too or not?

And lol@ the casual homophobia, "peepee on peepee action" is bad and leads people astray, Man must be redeemed by womanly love!

#3

And, last but not least, genocide survivors are not only selfish cowards for not announcing to an entire continent that had just wiped out most of their race that they still had the things they were genocided for in the first place and choosing instead to lie to them to restore peace and order and avoid being killed simply for existing, but also people with comparable, if not inferior, suffering to someone who was tortured as a child and became a racist, imperialistic warmongerer who started a war just to gain more territory and finish the genocide her inspiration started because of it

Victim blaming is so mainstream in the canon Fodlan games!

As a rule of thumb, I don't like the "trauma contest", but I've seen a lot of fics were this specific issue - absolutely not resolved in FE Fodlan!! - is resolved in a similar way, the Nabatean genocide is revealed just like the greater lie about the origin of crusts, and yet some people react with "yay you might have been hunted to near extinction to the point you can't even call your relatives relatives and lived in perpetual fear for the last 1k years of being slaughtered, but do you realise your lie made me feel sad because people want to marry me???"

I still think this take teeters a tad too close to the "it's your fault/you deserved being genocided/hunted because you belong to the wrong race" nauseabond take.

Again I need to stress how there's nothing inherently wrong with a Dark Fic, or fanfiction that tackles, elegantly or not, certain themes, and that's not what I'm ranting about here.

The Aeneid however takes itself as canon, is rec over canon and is lauded as essential to understand the canon (let it be through the very same reasonings and plot points developed in redshit essays about the canon, or fans rec'ing to other people).

It isn't the canon discrepencies that kind of annoy me, but it's rather how people will tell you how to interpret canon, in the light of this fic - from harmless stuff like "Supreme Leader totes has scars - so her FEH beach alt, made by IS mind you, is wrong" to the "toxic Faerghus masculinity values chivalry thus BaD, that's why they need to be civili- I mean, Adrestianised" to the various Rhea shitstorms/takes that are way too numerous for me to list, and ends up with people being puzzled when canon!Rhea (voiced by Kikuko Inoue) bakes cookies.

[k0kichiimagines]

Helloo!!

Hope I'm not bothering you! Can I request a kokichi x reader, where they are secretly togheter during the kg.

One time they are making out in the school and when they heard people they pretend they weren't doing anything but the reader wears lipstick, giving it awayʅʕ•ᴥ•ʔʃ

you're not bothering me dont worry!! yes you may <3

- mod kokichi

Kokichi x reader

-> secretly together during the killing game

CWs: none, but reader wears lipstick

Your hands tugged his checkered scarf softly, bringing the pretty boy closer towards you. You felt his lips smile for a moment, before he got back to kissing you with such tenderness you nearly cried. Your heart was racing, but not in an overbearing way, in a soft rhythm, quiet morse code that showed your feelings.

You didn't get much time alone. It would seem suspicious if you were always together, you'd played most of it off as being close friends, but people would get suspicious soon. Sometimes you wondered if Miu would hide a camera, or if the mastermind would get monokuma to announce your love. It was dangerous, one or both of you could die, could have this used against you.

But you didn't stop, and you knew he wouldn't either. He drew back, his breath was quick and he rested his head against yours, opening his eyes to stare intently at you with a loving look. His fingers wrapped around your hand - it wasn't a lustful kiss, it was the type of seperate lovers, every kiss held a bittersweet "Goodbye" to it.

Footsteps ran out, far enough away that you quickly could fix up clothes and hair. You noted the red smear on his face, but people had arrived before you could comment on it. It was dim lighting, perhaps they wouldn't notice. You lifted the edge of his scarf up, he glanced at you, and upon catching sight of your lips he quickly burried his face in it. You stood in a darkened corner as he greeted whoever had entered brightly.

"Nevermind, we'll talk elsewhere." Maki stated bluntly, before greeting you. You noted her pause, narrowing her eyes as she stared at your face, before silently groaning as she worked it out.

"Perhaps that would be for the best..." Shuichi commented, Kiibo agreeing with him.

"Kokichi? Your face is red, are you unwell?" Kiibo questioned with an edge of honest concern for the leader.

"What? No way! I never get sick!"

The robot wasn't convinced, but his eye caught the edge of a colourful smear before he could speak. His eyes travelled to your face, noting the same colour on you. "Hold on... Did you two..?! You two are together?!"

Shuichi looked at the pair of you as well and, despite Kokichi's denials, agreed with the robot. "I'll be honest I did suspect it for a while."

"And in a public area as well." Maki tutted disapprovingly. "Go to your dorms at least." You flushed and stared down at your shoes.

Kokichi shrugged, pulling down his now stained scarf. This just meant you both got more time together, and his pda could begin. He scooped you into his arms (he is fairly strong, desire his size). "Then we'll go to our dorms~"

"Not yours. Yours is a mess." You commented, somehow the idea of kissing next to a wax model of your dead friend and a rubber horse head didn't seem exactly romantic. He didn't reply, beginning to walk away with you with a bounce in his walk.

[exceptionimagines]

Meeting and Dating Don Collier

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Don meet when him and his men roll through your city. 

- When the war broke out, you were lucky enough to be one of the few towns who went relatively untouched and because of that, the American soldiers; who had planned on just passing through, decided to take refuge there for a few days and set up camp. 

- Whether or not it was a smart idea is up for debate but, when your father; or one of your relatives who you lived with, saw the men going about their business, they decided to invite some of them back to your families farm for a night; or however long they wished to stay, of “normalcy”. 

- Which is how you; and the rest of your family, ended up standing at your kitchen window in shock as your father walked alongside a beat up tank, guiding them onto your property as he made his way home from work. 

- Once he steps through the door, he offers the men a couple of things, introducing you and your mother with a wave of his hand as you momentarily lock eyes with the man who seems to be the groups leader; the man whose mere presence has your heart racing. 

- No one; besides perhaps your father and the men, is exactly sure of how to react and while you question the older mans sanity, your family attempts to go about their days like normal and show the surprise guests as much hospitality as you can.

- That night, the five soldiers join your family for dinner and you get an inside look at the relationships between all the men. Don; or Wardaddy as you’d heard his men call him, seemed to rule over the soldiers with an iron fist. You got the impression that he was keeping them on their best behavior; particularly for you and your mothers; and any other siblings, sakes. 

- After everyone finished their dinner, your father asked you to gather up some spare blankets and pillows for the men; which you did. When you returned with them, you decidedly handed them to the youngest, least threatening one in the room and merely gave the leader; Don, a flustered nod as he thanked you and your father. 

- When you woke up the following morning, you came downstairs to a strangely filled home: soldiers littered here and there, doing their own things and conversing with each other. It felt like you’d been thrusted into the life of a bed and breakfast owner; everything felt so surreal. 

- Nevertheless, you found that one of your house guests was missing and out of sheer curiosity; and a girlish infatuation with the man, you decided to look around and see if you could find him. 

- After trying your best to look around as unsuspiciously as you could, you found that he was nowhere in the house and moved your search to outside. And to your surprise: you had no luck; not until your eyes fell on the barn. 

- It was there that you found him, standing by one of the stables, his hands stroking across one of your horses faces with a familiarity that had you guessing he was used to being around the gentle giants. 

- You decided it was time to announce yourself instead of standing there, watching him like a creep and so you called out the name of the horse, walking a bit closer and leaning against one of the columns nearby. 

- The man glanced over at you and questioningly repeated the name before turning back to the animal. The two of you stood in silence before he asked how old they were, if you rode them, what kind of equipment you used, etc. 

- The conversation wasn’t long; just a few questions as he patted the horses head, but it had opened up the gate and you found yourself falling head over heels like school girl. You chalked it up to the fact that all the available boys in your town had been off at war for at least a few years by then. 

- Regardless, there you were, doing whatever you could to inconspicuously spend time with the man and borderline following him around like a lost puppy.

- It seemed he didn’t mind, in fact, he genuinely seemed to enjoy the companionship at times: occasionally inviting you to walk with him or amusedly explaining whatever he was doing whenever you asked. 

- He hadn’t invited you to sit with him when he was outside one night but you’d found him all the same, asking if you could join him as he stared out at your property. It was there that the two of you shared your first kiss. 

- You’d been silent for the first few minutes, merely taking in the atmosphere of the night and enjoying the lack of people around you. But, when he did speak, your heart dropped. 

- He told you he’d be packing up and heading out the next day; en route for some war torn capital that was sure to have a bunch of clueless Krauts none the wiser to their upcoming arrival. 

- You weren’t sure what to say and so you stayed silent, looking anywhere but at him. “We’ve done it before” he said next, perhaps to reassure you, perhaps to reassure himself; you weren’t sure which but it certainly didn’t make you feel any better. 

“Did it turn out alright?” You asked and he nodded, telling you that it worked out fine enough; that they’d be fine enough, and you told him you were glad; your eyes finally meeting his. 

- The two of you locked eyes for a long moment before you found yourselves slowly leaning in. You hesitated for a few seconds, your lips mere centimeters away, before he’d finally tilted his face and kissed you. 

- The two of you wind up doing a lot more than sharing a kiss, and while you probably should have regretted it; you didn’t. You merely wished that he didn’t have to go, wrapped up in his arms as dawn approached. 

- You’ll have to wait a while but he intends on coming back to you one day. You just hope that that one day is soon....

- It may not be considered “Pda”; which if it isn’t then you don’t do a whole lot of that, but he’s constantly got his hands on you in someway whenever you’re out in public. He wants to keep you close and let people know who you belong to.

- His hand gripping the back of your neck and head. It’s oftentimes how he pulls you into kisses; either that or he’ll tell you to “come here” with a little smile and press his lips to yours.

- His hand on your knee or the back of your chair whenever you’re sitting together. He has a habit of holding onto you in general: whether it be you, your clothes or something you’re on.

- If there’s sweet, actual affection happening; particularly in public, then chances are, you’re the one performing it. So he’ll be glaring out at something and you’ll be kissing his cheek or holding onto his arm and hand.

- Hugging him from behind. He’s secretly a big fan of it.

- Forehead and temple kisses. They’re always featherlight but it never fails to make you melt whenever he does it.

- How he kisses you depends on the day. Sometimes he’s soft and slow; his lips being the only rough things about him. Other times it’s harsh, abrupt, and dominant; stealing your breath away and making you feel like you’re drunk.

- Sitting in his lap. It’s one of the only things he’s really verbal and obvious about liking.

- Whenever the two of you cuddle, he’s always got a tight grip on you; keeping you plastered against him until you’ve got a good reason to get up. He’ll usually wind up being the big spoon or wrapping his arms around you while cuddle into his chest.

- He calls you “sweetheart” more than anything. It’s his favorite pet name to use; both on you and mockingly on other people.

- Don secretly; or not so secretly, craves a quiet and domestic life. He’d want a girl who; at least somewhat, fits into that traditional feminine role: the caretaker and homemaker that he; and most other men of the time, was raised on.

- Relaxing evenings spent inside or alone together; rather than going out.

- Going shopping together. He likes running errands with you; he finds it soothing to be by your side and do something so normal after the life he’s lived. He also just likes keeping an eye on you.

- Cooking for him.

- Early, peaceful mornings spent sitting together at your dining room table or cuddled up on your couch.

- Horseback riding.

- Picnics.

- Memorable dates or trips that you talk and reminisce about years later. He likes making new memories with you; ones he can wholeheartedly enjoy when he looks back on them.

- Don’s sort of just willing to do whatever you want to do. You can almost always persuade him to go and do something; both because he likes making you happy and spending time with you and because he likes keeping an eye out for you whenever you’re out in public.

- The two of you are inseparable most of the time. You spend most days by each other’s sides, helping him get used to normal life again and being the constant companion that he needs after the harsh realities of war. You’re sort of the only person he really has left in his life so the responsibility is going to lie on you.

- Don is wholeheartedly whipped. The amount of times you can puppy dog eye him and get your way is borderline hilarious.

- Convincing him to go with you into photo booths. He’ll probably roll his eyes and just keep the same serious face on the whole time but he’ll go in with you. He does secretly enjoy seeing your bright smile and your adorable attempts at copying his glare after you notice he isn’t smiling.

- Going dancing. He thinks he looks ridiculous in a nice evening suit; and you cannot convince him otherwise, but he suffers through it for a night every now and again to make you happy.

- Tracing the scars on his face. The softness of your touch makes him melt on the inside.

- He says a lot with his eyes. After a while, you’ll learn to read what he’s trying to say or thinking from them.

- He likes listening to you talk; even if it’s just rambling about something he would arguably have no interest in.

- Getting taught how to play card games and gamble like a pro. He’s gotten ridiculously good at swindling people out of their money over the past few years and he likes seeing your bewildered expression every time he wins or tries showing you something new.

- He loves teasing you. He finds it amusing to annoy you from time to time; grinning as you roll your eyes or snap back at him. That being said, he always knows how to tastefully push your buttons and never goes overboard.

- Him cutting both your hair. He cuts his own so he probably gives you a little trim from time to time as well.

- Wearing his dogtags.

- He really doesn’t like telling you about his time in the war but you could probably convince him to after a bit of pestering. Although, even when he is telling you stories, he tends to steer clear of the more gory details; instead talking about places he had to visit and funny shenanigans.

- He lowkey tries to keep you away from his crew. You probably have either never met them or have only had brief; and most likely somewhat tense, interactions with them. He thinks of them as part of the war and not necessarily as his friends.

- The only person he probably keeps in contact with after the war is either Norman or Bible and you’ll occasionally invite them over or exchange letters with them.

- Helping him deal with his past. He’s done a lot of things in his life that he isn’t proud of and sometimes he really thinks that he doesn’t deserve you but you refuse to let him think that way and stay with him through thick and thin.

- It takes him a while to really be comfortable with you seeing his scars. He tries not to be shirtless around you as much as possible, or have you touch his back, but you just have to reassure him that you want to see it and that it doesn’t bother you.

- He’s literally been covered in brain matter and intestines; your period or you shaving isn’t going turn him off. So yes, the two of you are very comfortable with each other; or at least you can be comfortable around him without fear of judgement.

- Comforting him whenever he goes through something. Just your presence does wonders in grounding him and making him feel better or think more clearly.

- Certain things really tick him off; like nazis for example, and you’ll occasionally have to calm him down and stop him from killing someone.

- Patching him up after fights or whenever he manages to hurt himself.

- In turn, he takes care of you: making sure you eat and sleep enough, telling you to wear a jacket, etc. He’s used to patrolling people and acting like a father of sorts to them, so it’s sort of just become a habit of his.

- Don prides himself on not playing along with silly little games so you aren’t going to be able to make him jealous; at least not purposefully. He’ll merely quirk an eyebrow at your antics and frustrate you with how little he reacts.

- That being said, when it comes to other people flirting with or taking interest in you, he tends to be a little bit more responsive. He usually just interrupts and; in some way, scares them off before things can get out of hand, but if you cluelessly wave him off so that you can talk with the other person more, his jealousy will really begin take root and he’ll find himself silently despising the other person.

- He’s incredibly protective of you; never letting anyone get too close and always keeping you in his sights. You’re the most important thing in his life and he isn’t going to let anything; not even something perfectly trivial, happen to you.

- The two of you really don’t fight all too often; perhaps because you both sort of knew what you were getting into when you first started your relationship. Regardless, when you do fight, they range from yelling and being cruel to just frustrated scolding; usually on his part.

- When the actual fight is over, he’ll usually search your face, forcing you to look at him and trying to see how you’re actually feeling. A nagging feeling of guilt will invade his body and he’ll; usually, try to make things up to you without verbally apologizing; though he certainly isn’t incapable of doing so if the moment really calls for it.

- He doesn’t outwardly tell you he loves you incredibly often but he shows it and says things that let you know that he does all the time. That being said, he does love the look on your face whenever he does finally say it: a cross between surprise and an overwhelming wave of joy as you try your best not to look too excited.

- After being in the war for so long, he thinks he’s suffered enough retribution for his crimes; inside of it and out, and he’s looking forward to spending the rest of his life with you; if you’re able to handle it.

[inkandpen22]

Years of Waiting

Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Female!Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Y/N is a princess visiting from another kingdom. She and Edmund have been secretly seeing each other for a while.

A/N: Possible mini-series??? Let me know! Happy to be back btw! 

Masterlist

It has been months since I’ve paid a visit to Narnia. I’ve missed its beaches, miles wide forests, rushing clearwater rivers, and most importantly its King. Though, I don’t tell many people of that last one... My father, the King of the Southern Isles, has sent me to act as an envoy. Our two kingdoms have to renew our centuries-old treaty, a job that may take months of negotiations. As the future ruler of the Isles, my father thought this would be good practice for me. In my mind, this trip gives me an excuse to spend some time with one particular Pevensie. In the letters exchanged between High King Peter and my father, Peter placed Edmund in charge of this task. Currently, the High King is occupied with some business in the north, something to do with giants. When I heard the news, I wasn’t exactly disappointed.

���Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of the Southern Isles,” the guard announces once we enter the grand throne room.

My eyes immediately land on King Edmund sitting on his throne surrounded by three empty ones. When he hears us coming, he rises from his seat with a gleaming smile. I curtsy to His Majesty once we’re at the foot of the steps leading up to the thrones.

“Your Majesty,” I greet with a grin.

“Princess Y/N,” Edmund strolls down the stairs. As I rise from my position, he takes my hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “Always a pleasure, he charms.

“The pleasure is all mine, Sir,” I flirt subtly as there are many eyes on us. “We shall host a feast tonight in honor of your arrival. Before then, I was hoping to lead you on a ride along the shores,” he offers.

“I would be delighted.” I accept, much to his pleasure. ___________________________ The first time we met Edmund was sixteen and I was fourteen. Now, I’m about to turn eighteen which will make me old enough to take my father’s place as ruler of the Southern Isles. Most importantly, my birthday means I’m old enough to marry. When the time comes my parents are hoping I marry a warrior or lord from our kingdom. The thought of marrying has been lingering over my head like a dark cloud considering I’m already in love with someone. One problem though, he’s a Narnian.

After a lovely ride through the wood and along the coast, Edmund and I stop by the far caves, away from the prying eyes of Cair Paravel. Edmund slips down from Philip and helps me off my horse as well.

“Let’s go for a swim!” He suggests enthusiastically, switching his sight between me and the ocean.

Already thinking ahead of him, I start to untie the laces of my dress. He chuckles and quickly joins in undressing, starting with kicking off his boots. After some scrambling, I’m dressed down to my chemise. I beat him to it and race toward the waves.

“Come on slowpoke!” I giggle as I turn back to see Edmund rushing. “Mr. Beaver moves faster than you!”

“Maybe when he’s swimming! I have him beat in walking considering he waddles!” He defends as he finishes up tossing his shirt to the sand and sprints toward me.

Immediately, Edmund picks me up, tossing me over his shoulder. I yelp as he playfully tosses me into deeper waters. The cool water encompasses me and I push off the sandy floor to the surface. I splash in Edmund’s direction and he attempts to dodge it but gets a direct hit to the face. He squeezes his eyes shut and wipes his face clear.

“Oh, you’re going to get it now!” He laughs, diving into the water to reach me.

I squeal and try to swim in the opposite direction. I stand no chance as I feel Edmund’s hand wrap around my ankle and yank me back to him. Water rushes around me in minor ripples as Edmund pulls me toward his chest. I drape my arms over his shoulder and he guides my legs around his waist. Mere inches from each other, our faces linger. His warm breath falls between his parted lips as we stare into each other’s eyes.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he mutters as his hand brushes across my cheek.

“I missed you more,” I challenge playfully.

He shakes his head gently and mumbles, “that’s impossible.”

Gently, he tucks his hand behind my head and brings our lips together for a soft kiss. Our first kiss since we saw each other almost a year ago at the Spring Festival. We’ve been in love since we were kids, yet our relationship has remained a secret for years now. Hidden kisses, secret nights out, discreet letters back and forth, it’s all we have. Whenever we’re in the same land we do everything we can to spend even minutes together alone. __________________________________________________ Spending the day on the beach has been perfect. As the sun starts to think about setting, Edmund and I continue to lay on the sand hand-in-hand to soak up the last minutes of sunlight.

“Let’s just skip the ball and stay here,” he suggests while relaxing beside me.

“We can’t, people will wonder where we are,” I responsibly consider.

“Let them.” He dismisses casually with a snicker as he brings our interlocked hands to his lips to plant a kiss on mine.

“They’ll assume we’re together!” I reason, flicking my head to the side to see his face.

“So?” He follows my actions and opens his eyes. “We are together...”

“Without a chaperone! My honor would be wrecked,” I remind him of that crucial detail.

“I think your honor was sort of shot too high Heaven after my last visit to the Southern Isles, don’t you think?” He snickers mischievously.

I gasp, swatting Edmund on the arm. “Ugh, seriously?!”

“Right, right, sorry,” he holds up his hands in surrender, but I can see the amusement in his eyes.

I huff, settling back down into my comfortable position.

He sighs in frustration, turning his eyes back to the sky above us. “I wish people knew about us. It would make everything easier.”

“All in good time,” I assure him calmly.

“Why must we wait?” He groans, despite knowing why.

“There’s protocol and-”

“Ugh, I’m so tired of formalities!” He huffs, sitting up from his laid position. “I’m the King of Narnia for goodness sake! I should make the rules!”

“You do,” I remind him confidently. “But you’re not the King of the Southern Isles. Peter may agree to us but my father...”

“Remember that time we snuck off after the council dinner two years ago?” Edmund recalls out of the blue. “You left hickeys all down my chest and I told Peter I had a bad duel training session,” he snickers as he admires the warm color palette of a sky.

I sigh, his mind sometimes makes me blush. “Ed this isn’t exactly-”

“Don’t you wish we could do that again,” he flickers his attention over to me with a grin.

I think of that night all the time. It was the first time we... never mind. “Well... I mean...” I stammer. “Yes but-”

Edmund doesn’t hesitate as he shifts to straddle me. In a swift movement, he takes my wrists and pins them down onto the side on either side of my head. A playful grin is etched across his lips as a soft chuckle escapes them. He laughs like a child but his actions are anything but childish as he starts to kiss my neck hungrily.

“No, Ed!” I giggle. “Stop it!”

“Only when you say the magic words,” he counters.

We’ve done it a million times before. I love this Edmund, the goofy and playful sort. Anytime we do anything somewhat competitive like riding or archery, we end up just like this. It’s all in good fun of course. One thing Edmund will never let me do is dual with him. He says ‘you’ll get hurt.’ As though my father doesn’t have me in training back home as a precaution.

“Say it! Say I’m the better rider!” He demands, continuing his assault.

“No, Philip is just the quicker horse!” I tease, wiggling in his hold.

“Say it!” Edmund repeats.

“No! I’ve been riding longer than you, remember?” I giggle.

“Marry me,” Edmund blurts out against my neck.

I stop wiggling as my chest sinks. Edmund rises from his hunched-over position to hover over me.

“Marry me, Y/N,” he repeats so gently that it nearly gets lost in the breeze.

He stares me in the eyes with such intensity, almost as though he didn’t mean to say it, as though it slipped out. Yet, now that he has said it, he awaits my answer.

“Yes,” I mutter with a hint of shakiness.

His eyes widen with surprise. “Really?! Truly, you’ll marry me?!” His grip around my wrist tightens slightly.

“Yes!” I giggle with joy.

He shares in my joy and leans down to plant a passionate kiss on my lips.

“Heavens, I love you so much!” He mumbles against my lips.

“I love you more!” I smile into the kiss.

Now, all we have to do is tell the others... that’s where the real trouble begins.

_______________________

Masterlist

[soyunaagente]

Dating Ramón Arellano Felix includes

Okay after some gin ( I swear to you I'm not an alcoholic) again who knows how this turned out but :)

My DM’s and ask box are open to requests, questions, thoughts, anything!

Don’t be shy, I don’t bite.....too often. 

Okay my little Ramóncito is an impulsive HoT hEaD and wears his heart on his sleeve.

He thinks he's cool and collected but the day he met you be was a stumbling mess.

Just imagine at an after party, him just walking up to you trying to introduce himself but he just keeps stumbling over his words- especially when he tries to compliment you omg.

 His shoulders dropping in relief when you smile back, him not so subtly glancing a look at the deep V-neck dress your wearing- who said that?

 Ramón lives for showing you off. Whether it be at the Roxane, to his friends or even the street vendor at the end of the street.

'Mira a mi princesa, ella es la mujer más guapa en Mexico.'   The poor vendor just wants to give you ice-cream and run away.

Let's talk about a night at the Roxanne for a second. You, dressed to ruin lives, on Ramóns arm with some expensive cocktail in the other.

 Him just introducing you to anyone who's there. Though he makes sure that they know your his. His alone ;)

 Dancing with Ramón is the shit, we all know it.- The grinding to the beat. His hands on your hips, sometimes one wanders up your thigh but that's just par for the course.

He's majorly protective of you- but not in a possessive way. He's just used to the dangers of Tijuana and his way of  life.

He'll always have his hand on your hip or around your waist. Holding you close to him.

He even taught you how to manage a gun and a knife on the off chance that you might need it someday.

Though he prays to Dio y los angeles every night that you'll never need it.

Everything he does for you is out of passionate love.

Can you just imagine the kisses? The intense passion. The lust. Just- ugh.

Ramón is all for PDA too. His hand is ALWAYS on you- your hip, waist, ass. Wherever and whenever he can.

He's totally shameless too so he has no problem slapping your ass in public.

Though Ramón's favourite is holding your hand as tightly as he can when you walk together out on the streets.

You're there beside him and nothing bad can happen to you, he's there to protect you. I-just. Why do I do this to myself.

Ramón LoVeS buying you gifts. He doesn't need an excuse.

He's extra AF so you best imagine your getting over the top jewellery, acres of roses, overly expensive champagne. And that's just on a normal afternoon.

Just- on your birthday or anniversary him arriving at your door with a box containing a chain. You thinking that's it but oh no.

Cue whole new wardrobe, those expensive shoes you looked at once and dinner at THE place in Mexico. Even though it's impossible to get a reservation.

He even got a band to come play, just for you.  

 Dates always consist of something intimate but y'all always end up at the Roxanne. Once Ramón even just went straight there.

He secretly loves just one on one time. It calms him down and lets him relax.

Speaking of calm- you're literally the only person who can calm him down when he's in one of his *moods*. No joke the family just call you know instead  of dealing with it

Just the sound of your voice brings him back to earth. The feeling of your skin against his elevates him from whatever dark place he was  in.

 You know about his -harsher- side but he tries his best to hide it from you. You constantly reassure him that you love him - the good and the bad-

*Looks around* Ramón lives for sleeping in the same bed as you. He needs to feel your presence beside him to be able to sleep.

Especially after one of the aforementioned moods. He'll curl up with his head on your tummy, arm draped across your waist as you play with his hair.'

'Estas seguro ahora mi amor,' you whisper as he drifts off.

Ramón also secretly loves it when you sleep on top of him. Cheek pressed against his bare chest. His heartbeat helping you fall asleep. His hand on your ass because - well Ramón.

You once woke up on the floor because Ramón forgot you were there and rolled over letting you fall.

EXPENSIVE by Erika Jayne just screams what the relationship would be. He'd give you anything your heart desired- and all the rest.  

He also spends hours ranting about what happened during the week on the weekends.

He feels he's pissing you off but you reassure him it's okay. He needs to get things off his chest.

After he'll get you both something to drink and you'll just chill in the comfortable silence.

 He'll leave out the gory details but if there's something he feels comfortable enough discussing with you, bet your ass he'll need your opinion before acting on anything. Though he's Ramón, he''ll just do what he wants. I never said that.

Just when you get involved in the family meetings, he'll bring you to every single one.

Ramón and Enedina always make sure your voice is heard. Especially on matters that you know something extra about.

Ramón loves getting your opinion on anything he wears. Though no matter what the flashy shirt is a must.

 Don't ask why but I get such vibes that Ramón LOVES horse racing. Like going to the track. Placing bets. Drinking before, after and well, during the race too.

You both dress up and head down for an afternoon on the tracks. He even owns a few prize winners

All of them are named after various inside jokes you both share. So you can get a giggle when the announcer says the name.

 Despite the lowest of lows the relationship always has the highest of highs.

 He has a mind of his own so when it came to tying him down, lets just say there was an argument or two.

When he realised that he couldn't live without you he pulled himself together. The risk of loosing you was too much.

He's a virus in your system and you just can't get enough.

[dragonmartellstark]

Best Destinations for the Stark Family (3/5)

~ARYA STARK: She was the youngest daughter of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully. Unlike her sister, Sansa, who was very feminine and traditional, Arya loved to ride, swords, archery and play rough, she also did not mind getting dirty and wearing ordinary clothes as if she were just another girl from the village.

When her father was named Hand of the King after Jon Arryn's death in 300 A. C., Arya with her brother Bran left for the Capital with her father, while the other brothers of her stayed in Invernalia. In her stay in King's Landing she was somewhat tumultuous because everyone saw her rebellious and tomboy behavior badly, even Queen Cersei called her "Prince Arya" in derision.

In 303 A. C., Eddard together with Renly Baratheon and Varys conspired against Queen Cersei Lannister after discovering that her three children were not King Robert's and they looked for a way to find the queen with her lover and brother, Jaime Lannister.

After the event known as "The scandal of the Queen's Tower" where the King and his hand broke into Cersei's rooms finding her in full act with her lover, this being horrible for King Robert who finally discovered the true face of his wife. To avoid endangering Arya and Bran were secretly sent to Winterfell where they were under the protection of their mother and her older brother, Robb.

Cersei and Jaime Lannister were executed for treason, adultery, and incest, while their children were disinherited in favor of Stannis Baratheon who became the heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Joffrey Mares was forced to join the Night's Watch, Myrcella became Lord Eddard's ward, and Tommen was sent to Casterly Rock alongside his grandfather, Tywin Lannister.

Robert I Baratheon named as heir to the Lordship of Storm's End his bastard son, Gendry, who was legitimized as a Baratheon, while Renly Baratheon had to keep the Lordship of Dragonstone.

While all these events were taking place, Arya stayed away from her as did hers, her brothers, continuing her quiet life. It was said that the more she grew, her beauty intensified, being considered as beautiful as her deceased aunt, Lyanna Stark and this led to Lady Stark receiving different marriage proposals, this being very stressful for her and she refused to marry someone. man who would deny her to be just a "baby machine".

Despite this, her parents wanted her to marry, so they sought a compromise with House Tyrell or House Hightower. This upset Arya and she decided to undertake a trip to King's Landing where Robert Baratheon still reigned who received her as a daughter of her. There she met Gendry Baratheon, the now Lord of Storm's End, a handsome young man, stocky and with a temper similar to that of his father the king when he was young.

Arya and Gendry had a good relationship sharing a great passion for hunting, weapons and horses. Gendry wrote letters to her half-brother, Edric Tormenta, about how beautiful Lady Stark was and how much he enjoyed her company, even thinking of marrying her. While this was happening, Eddard Stark and Mace Tyrell had agreed an engagement between Arya and Mace's son, Loras Tyrell, but it was said that she was having an affair with Renly Baratheon. Given this, the young wolf decided to turn to Lord Gendry to seek her help and he asked for her hand, stating that in her marriage she will not have to be a renegade or be a submissive wife allowing her to have the same freedoms as a single woman.

The two were secretly married in 308 A. C., he was 24 and she was 19 at a private ceremony near Visenya Hill. The couple consumed their marriage that same day, achieving their legitimacy. When Arya announced her marriage to Gendry, her mother was enraged as she considered her son-in-law a bastard and her daughter a shameless one. However, Eddard was not bothered by the union because of his sympathy for Gendry and together with Robert I they allowed the marriage despite the scandal it caused.

The couple settled in Storm's End and it is known that Lord Gendry allowed his wife to do what she liked, so Arya would wear her Mayan coat whenever she wanted, she would ride where she wanted to go and eat as she wanted to be. considered his attitude very shameful. Their marriage improved over the years and they both came to love each other, their marriage being very passionate, as well as faithful since Gendry never had lovers.

Despite not being pressured to give birth to a child, Arya became pregnant in 310 A. C., giving birth to her first son, Eddard Baratheon who would be Lord of Storm's End.

Arya and Gendry had three more children:

Catelyn Baratheon who would be known to have a love affair with her cousin, Elys Arryn and ended up being Mistress of the Three Towers.

Gendry Baratheon who would unite the Flint Clan in Winterfell.

Robert Baratheon who would be known to have five wives and many offspring.

Arya Stark raised all of her children to be formidable warriors and had other qualities that were not only politics or marriage, making her son Gendry join the Flint Clan thanks to his skill with the spear and the arc. Lady Baratheon did not participate much in auditions with the Lord of Storm's End, but she was present alongside her husband and was allowed to speak about her whenever she was important.

Arya was also part of some groups of women who used to secretly compete in tournaments or horse races, posing as a man named Arry and went on to win several matches even against her own husband. She also had a great influence at court, getting many women to put aside their uncomfortable attire or feminine attitudes so that they could do the same hobbies as a man or dress like one, this being frowned upon by some vassals of the Baratheon.

The life of the young wolf was affected when in 335 A. C., her brothers Robb and Sansa passed away, her deaths being very painful for Lady Baratheon since despite always having differences with her sister, her relationship improved when they reached adulthood.

In 344 A. C., Gendry Baratheon died of heart problems and Arya never recovered from that loss, visiting the grave of her husband whenever she could. After becoming a widow, she remained by her son Eddard, being a more influential woman than her daughter-in-law, Wanda Frey (Stevron Frey's great-granddaughter), creating a great tension between them for wanting to be the most important woman.

Arya Stark died in 353 A. C., she at 64 years of age of natural causes and her remains were buried next to those of her husband in Storm's End.

Mejores destinos para la familia Stark (3/5)

~ARYA STARK: Fue la hija menor de Eddard Stark y Catelyn Tully.  A diferencia de su hermana, Sansa que era muy femenina y tradicional, Arya amaba cabalgar, espadas, tiro con arco y jugar de manera bruta, además no le importaba ensuciarse y portar ropas ordinarías como si fuera una niña mas del pueblo.

Cuando su padre fue nombrado Mano del Rey tras la muerte de Jon Arryn en 300 d. C., Arya junto a su hermano Bran partieron a la Capital con su padre, mientras que sus otros hermanos se quedaron en Invernalia. En su estancia en Desembarco del Rey fue algo tumultuosa debido a que todos veían mal su comportamiento rebelde y marimacho, incluso la reina Cersei la llamo “Príncipe Arya” en modo de burla.

En el 303 d. C., Eddard junto a Renly Baratheon y Varys conspiraron en contra de la reina Cersei Lannister tras descubrir que sus tres hijos no eran del rey Robert y buscaron la forma de encontrar a la reina junto a su amante y hermano, Jaime Lannister.

Tras el evento conocido como “El escandalo de la Torre de la Reina” donde el Rey y su mano irrumpieron en las habitaciones de Cersei encontrándola en pleno acto con su amante siendo esto horrible para el rey Robert que por fin descubría la verdadera cara de su esposa. Para no peligrar Arya y Bran fueron enviados en secreto a Invernalia donde estuvieron bajo la protección de su madre y su hermano mayor, Robb.

Cersei y Jaime Lannister fueron ejecutados por traición, adulterio e incesto, mientras que sus hijos fueron desheredados a favor de Stannis Baratheon que se convirtió en el heredero de los Siete Reinos. Joffrey Mares fue obligado a unirse a la Guardia de la Noche, Myrcella quedo como pupila de Lord Eddard y Tommen fue enviado a Roca Casterly junto a su abuelo, Tywin Lannister.

Robert I Baratheon nombro como heredero del Señorio de Bastión de Tormenta a su hijo bastardo, Gendry el cual fue legitimado como un Baratheon, mientras que Renly Baratheon tuvo que quedarse con el señorío de Rocadragón.

Mientras todos estos acontecimientos ocurrían, Arya se mantuvo lejos al igual que sus hermanos siguiendo con su vida tranquila. Se decía que mientras mas crecía su belleza se intensificaba mas, siendo considerada igual de hermosa que su tía fallecida, Lyanna Stark y esto conllevo a que Lady Stark empezó a recibir diferentes propuestas matrimoniales siendo esto muy estresante para ella y se negaba a casarse con algún hombre que la renegara a ser solo una “maquina de bebés”.

Pesé a esto sus padres deseaban que se casara, así que buscaron un compromiso con la Casa Tyrell o la Casa Hightower. Esto molesto a Arya y decidió emprender un viaje hacia Desembarco del Rey donde aun reinaba Robert Baratheon que la recibió como una hija. Ahí conoció a Gendry Baratheon, el ahora Señor de Bastión de Tormenta un joven apuesto, fornido y con un temple parecido al de su padre el rey cuando este era joven.

Arya y Gendry tuvieron una buena relación compartiendo una gran pasión por la caza, las armas y los caballos. Gendry escribía cartas a su medio hermano, Edric Tormenta sobre lo bella que era Lady Stark y lo mucho que disfrutaba su compañía pensando incluso en desposarse con ella. Mientras esto sucedía, Eddard Stark y Mace Tyrell habían acordado un compromiso entre Arya y el hijo de Mace, Loras Tyrell, pero de este se decía que mantenía un romance con Renly Baratheon. Ante esto la joven loba decidió recurrir a Lord Gendry para buscar su ayuda y el pidió su mano afirmando que en su matrimonio no tendrá que ser renegada o ser una esposa sumisa permitiéndole tener sus mismas libertades como una mujer soltera.

Ambos se casaron en secreto en el 308 d. C., el tenia 24 y ella 19 años en una ceremonia privada cerca de la Colina de Visenya. La pareja consumió su matrimonio ese mismo día logrando su legitimidad. Cuando Arya anunció su casamiento con Gendry, su madre monto en cólera ya que consideraba a su nuero como un bastardo y a su hija como una desvergonzada. Sin embargo Eddard no se molesto por la unión por su simpatía hacia Gendry y junto a Robert I permitieron el matrimonio pese al escandalo que ocasionaba.

La pareja se instalo en Bastión de Tormenta y se sabe que Lord Gendry permitía a su esposa hacer lo que ella le gustara, por lo que Arya vestiría con su cota de maya cuando quisiera, cabalgaría hacia donde ella quería llegar y comería como ella quisiera siendo considerada su actitud muy vergonzosa. Su matrimonio fue mejorando con el paso de los años y ambos llegaron a amarse siendo su matrimonio muy apasionado, además de fiel ya que Gendry jamas tuvo amantes.

Pesé a no ser presionada para alumbrar a un hijo, Arya se quedo embarazada en el 310 d. C., dando a luz a su primer hijo, Eddard Baratheon que sería Señor de Bastión de Tormenta.

Arya y Gendry tuvieron tres hijos mas:

Catelyn Baratheon que sería conocida por tener una historia de amor con su primo, Elys Arryn y termino siendo Señora de las Tres Torres.

Gendry Baratheon que uniría al Clan Flint en Invernalia.

Robert Baratheon que sería conocido por tener cinco esposas y mucha descendencia.

Arya Stark educo a todos sus hijos para que fueran formidables guerreros y tuvieran otras cualidades que no solo fueran la politica o el matrimonio, logrando que su hijo Gendry se uniera al Clan Flint gracias a su destreza con la lanza y el arco. Lady Baratheon no participo mucho en las audiciones con el Señor de Bastión de Tormenta, pero estuvo presente junto a su marido y se le permitía hablar siempre que fuera importante.

Arya también formo parte de algunos grupos de mujeres que solían competir en secreto en torneos o carreras de caballos, haciéndose pasar por un hombre llamado Arry y llego a ganar varios combates incluso contra su propio marido. También tuvo una gran influencia en la corte logrando que muchas mujeres dejaran de lado sus atuendos incomodos o actitudes femeninas para que pudieran hacer los mismos pasatiempos que un hombre o vestir como uno, siendo esto mal visto por algunos vasallos de los Baratheon.

La vida de la joven loba se vio afectada cuando en el 335 d. C., fallecieron sus hermanos Robb y Sansa siendo sus muertes muy dolorosas para Lady Baratheon ya que pese a siempre tener diferencias con su hermana, su relación mejoro cuando llegaron a la edad adulta.

En el 344 d. C., falleció Gendry Baratheon de problemas del corazón y Arya jamás se recupero de aquella perdida, visitando la tumba de su esposo cada vez que podía. Tras convertirse en viuda se mantuvo al lado de su hijo Eddard siendo una mujer mas influyente que su nuera, Wanda Frey (bisnieta de Stevron Frey) creándose una gran tensión entre ambas por querer ser la mujer mas importante.

Arya Stark murió en el año 353 d. C., a los 64 años de edad de causas naturales y sus restos fueron enterrados junto a los de su marido en Bastión de Tormenta.

[ibelieveindragons141]

Could you make a Diego Hargreeves x reader where she is number 8 and has powers like scarlet witch but purple? Where they were secretly dating as teenagers and left the academy together, and she is part of the season one and two plot in helping save the world. One-shot or full story is fine. And can she be 5’1 and Mexican, like me?!

Here and There part 1

Diego Hargreeves x reader

Word count: 1581

Warnings: Language

A/n: I decided to write this story as lots of little scenes to try and fit more of the two seasons in

Diego stared down at his father's grave in disgust. How dare such a monster be honored. How dare he turn his "children" into little toy soldiers. Hos dare he traumatize them so easily. How dare he-

"Diego?" A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

His turned to see you holding an umbrella, your small hands gripping it tightly.

"Are you okay?" You asked.

He shot you a look.

"Right. Stupid question." You hesitated before saying, "Is it bad that I'm happy he's dead? I mean, he was a horrible person, to all of us. Especially Vanya..."

Diego reached out and pulled you to his chest. He loved the feeling of your body pressed up against him, his arms wrapped firmly around you- as if they could shield you from the rest of the world, if only for a moment.

"Hey," he said, "He's dead now. That means no more running, no more hiding. We're free."

He felt you smile into his chest. "What could possibly go wrong, right?"

______________________________________________________________________

As it turns out, quite a lot.

Five's return and announcement of a looming apocalypse added on to the growing pile of bottled up feelings, tension, and anger radiating from the now reunited siblings.

"Number eight," Five turned to you. "You've always had a few more brain cells than the rest of our siblings. Please tell me you're taking this seriously."

"It's y/n," You reminded him. "And of course we'll help you."

"We?" Luther scoffed. "I don't think so. I'm going to find out who murdered dad."

"Oh, would you let that go already!" Klaus threw his hands up.

You stifled a laugh. You and Klaus were close growing up, always doing each other's hair and dressing up in Allison's clothes.

Diego took your hand and said, "Look, if the apocalypse really is in eight days, then it's an all-hands-on-deck situation."

You gave his hand a squeeze in support. "Exactly. So, Five, what causes it?"

"I don't know."

______________________________________________________________________

"Luther!" You shouted over the roar of Vanya's powers, "What the hell were you thinking!"

Diego gripped your arm tightly, "Evacuate the audience, we'll keep her distracted."

"Diego-"

"Go!"

As you began ushering the civilians out, pounding footsteps caught your attention. Rushing outside, you saw men in lack uniforms holding guns, making their way intently toward the building. "Shit!" You whirled around and sprinted back to the auditorium where your siblings were taking shelter behind the red seats.

"We need to go!" You cried, reaching the doorway.

Vanya slashed her violin bow at you, which you blocked with a blast of purple energy. "Now!"

The men from outside swarmed the room and open fired. You dropped to the ground and crawled to Diego who was squished between two rows of seats. He said something to Five while you tried to find a good opening to attack the men. But you were surrounded. You were screwed.

"Well... we're screwed." You heard Five say.

Before you could respond, Klaus crashed into the room and yelled, "Guys! It's Cha-Cha, she-"

"Klaus! Get down!" You screamed, sending a wave of energy at him to deflect the gunfire long enough for him to find cover.

A blue glow filled the room. Peeking up, you saw Klaus and.... Ben.

Diego threw a few more knives before sprinting at the stage to take on Cha-Cha.

"Diego, wait!" He ignored you and kept running. You cursed under your breath and chased after him.

The fight was brutal. And painful. Diego's hand wrapped around the assassin's throat and squeezed. You put a hand on his shoulder, "Diego, this isn't what Patch would have wanted," you spoke softly, as if trying to calm a wild horse. Something in his eyes shifted, and he dropped his arm. You tugged him away and back to your siblings.

Diego spoke first. "How do you wanna end this thing?"

You shared a glance with Allison and said, "Come at her from all angles and hope she can’t fight all of us at once."

"So it's a suicide mission." Klaus' eyes were wide and you noticed the haunted look they always held was gone.

"It's the only chance we've got," Five reasoned. "Are we all in?"

Luther gave instructions and everyone ran to their places. As you turned, Diego spun you around and kissed you fiercely.

He started you directly in the eyes and said, "I love you."

You managed to find a smile for him, "I know."

He kissed you again before racing to stage left.

The room began to crumble and bits of the ceiling fell. It was now or never.

You couldn't remember much after Vanya suspended you in the air. The next thing you knew, everyone was huddled around Vanya.

Then, Klaus tugged on your sleeve and pointed at the moon. Or rather, what was left of it; large chunks of rock were hurtling toward Earth.

"Oh, come on!" You cried.

"Wha.... oh no." Five looked like he suddenly aged ten years.

"What do we do?"

"At least we're together, as a family, in the end." Luther said mournfully.

There was a long pause. Then:

"This doesn't have to be the end."

Diego wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and pressing a kiss to your hairline.

"What are you saying, Five?"

He looked you in the eye and replied, "You gotta trust me on this."

Everyone chorused a no, but you remained silent, eyes never leaving his. Finally, you said, "We're all about to be vaporized anyway, we might as well try."

Diego sighed and nodded, "What's your idea then?"

______________________________________________________________________

Darkness and pain were the first two things you registered when you hit the ground. Then you realized that you were alone. And in an alley.

"Ma’am? Are you alright?" A tall man walked over to you and helped you up.

"A-accent." You murmured.

"What was that, miss?"

"Your accent.... where am I?"

He looked concerned. "You're in Dallas, Texas. Do you need some help?"

"No," you waved him off. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."

"Where are you going?" He asked as you we walking away.

You paused, then said, "To find my family."

______________________________________________________________________

You were on your way to your job at Glen Oaks Hardware when a crazed looking man grabbed your arm.

"Y/n?"

You yanked your arm out of his grasp, said "Not interested," and kept walking.

You were running late, again -Dave never let you live anything down- and couldn't afford to be harassed by men looking to sell something, again. You made it about fifteen paces before stopping short. You shook your head is disbelief. Spinning around, you saw him approach another Mexican women who shot him a confused look and blew right by him.

"Hey!" You ran over and gripped his shoulders tightly. "What did you say to me?"

"W-what?"

"Just now. What did you say?"

"I- Y/n."

You froze. "How did you know my name."

He looked nervous and hopeful and relived all at the same time. “The knife-man told me to find you."

Hope sparked in your chest.

"Knife-man?"

He nodded.

"Where can I find him?”

“Come with me.”

He led you into the building near the alley you arrived in nearly two years ago.

______________________________________________________________________

“Are you sure he’s coming back?”

Elliot gave you another exasperated, if not also mildly terrified look as you toyed with dark purple energy, letting it dance between your fingers.

“I told you. He said he was going to find his siblings, or his dad, or save the president.”

“At least he’s keeping busy.”

Elliot looked uncomfortable.

“That was a joke,” you clarified, “You can laugh. I’m not gonna kill you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not afraid of you.” He pulled himself up a bit.

You suppressed a laugh and nodded, “No, of course not. I-“

The sound of a door opening caught your attention. You raised a purple hand and peeled over the railing of the second floor. What you saw made your heart stop.

“Diego,” you breathed.

As if sensing your presence, he looked up and dropped his knife in shock.

“Y/n?”

At the same moment, you flew down the stairs and into his arms, colliding with his chest and pressing your face into his neck. You breathed in his scent, sweat, metal, and something else distinctly Diego.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” His voice broke.

“I missed you so much.” You said, savoring the feeling of his large hands running up and down your back and sides.

Someone cleared their throat behind Diego. Pulling back, but not quite yet letting him go, you looked to see who else was standing in the foyer.

Your eyes widened. “Five?”

He gave you his classic this-might-as-well-happen-smile, and said, “Y/n, great news! We have another apocalypse to stop.”

A/n: thanks for reading! Let me know if you guys want me to continue this with more of season two :)

[jacqueline314]

Desirable Greetings

Part 1

Carts, farmers, scholars, and merchants occupies the streets of large and massive, bright structures.

Welcome to Vria. A city, made out of columns of a mixture of limestone, sandstone, and other bright colored materials. There are districts with buildings that look similar to one another, it almost feels like a maze in certain spots of the city. Other structures are consist of columns with no walls, walls with no columns, columns with no roofs, columns with roofs, and walls with no roofs.

The history of this city takes back a hundred years ago. The founders were architects. They come from the distant east, after a kingdom had fallen. They were hired by the remaining survivors of the royal family. Their down fall was caused by a war, and they accept defeat. The architects were paid with a hidden stash of gold and treasure that were passed from generations. They were tasked to locate a land that would be best suited for not just the survivors’ taste, but also where the architects would paint their canvas.

It took a few decade of travelling, maneuvering and surviving to find their canvas. As they set foot to a beach with a cliff side, where the peak could just reach the heavens, and a stable slope from the back, they settled and put their lives’ effort to build Vria from the bottom up. The surviving royal family helped maintaining the resources and financials while building their home. After Fifty years, the city was built. It was then ruled under, the royal family’s most organized sister, Queen Luisa Sevada. And every year, they celebrate on two separate days of the start and end of the harvest season. To dedicate the memory of their new found home. And that is the story of Vria.

With in the middle of the day, a tiefling merchant was selling goods to shopper. His shop consist of dried meats, fresh fruits, vegetables, and herbs. He to wards a new face that was approaching to him. He sees a human girl with Short, shiny black hair, olive skin, and dark brown eyes, wearing goggles with magnifying lenses, a brown cloak, studded armor with one glove attachment, modest orange clothing under the armor with only one sleeve that's opposite to the glove and a bag that hangs across her body. Strange to see someone wear any armor, considering that she seems to be over ten years old for a human.

As they get closer, the merchant goes “Hello and what can I get ya?”

She then replies “Hi, what can I get with five copper?” Her voice sounds lightly squeaky.

“Well, that will get you one fruit, half a meat jerky, and a hand full of herbs.”

“What kind of fruits do you have in stock?”

“Umm...just the usual oranges and apples. Oh oh! I just remembered we have one mango left in stock. These are our best sellers.”

The human girl smiles as she says “I will try one then.”

He hands over the mango to her and she pays the five copper. As she walks away from the merchant, peeling the fruit, the merchant goes “Pleasure doing business with you.” As she bites into the mango, she turns around and waves goodbye to him.

“He’s very nice.” She mutters while chewing the mango in her mouth.

He wasn’t kidding about the mango being sold out very quickly. the texture is soft, moist, and the taste is really sweet. Sweeter than any apples and oranges combined. The fruit is very drippy with every bite intake. The juices falls onto her cloak. Other drops slide to her chin and falls on her leather armor. Eventually, her hand will get soaked with the juice when she finishes it.

Amongst the big crowd, she finds a fountain in the middle. She heads towards it to take a seat. She finishes eating the fruit, but she doesn’t know where to put away the scraps. The streets are relatively clean. She finds two families sitting on the fountain as well. One of them are sitting near her and the other is on the opposite side. The human tries to secretly wash her hand and the scraps to get rid of the sticky juice, but the small toss of the fountain water, towards her hand, creates a splash loud enough to get their attention.

They glance over to the human in concern. She smiles at them and says “Hi.”

They continue to watch her as she dips the scraps with her hand into the fountain, washes it, shakes off the excess water, and places it into her bag.

The family then stood up, gather their things and walked away. “You look lovely today.” She said as they left.

A moment passes, then she hears a loud voice that goes “Attention! Attention! A big event has occurred!” It seems to be the Town Crier, giving announcements.

“The queen has said word that the princess’ coronation will be at sundown, today!”

The blacked haired human looks around and sees the surprised discomfort of the crowd. She hears some of them mutter “Sundown?”

“Our attires aren’t ready.”

“Strange.”

The Town Crier finishes handing out the papers and shouts “Alright, go and get ready! The Queen also says that she wants every one to witness this!” And they all rush their walking pace in order to not be looked down upon the royal family.”

As they all nudge and push through each other, our human swiftly maneuver through the crowd, pretty well handedly. After a while, it fells less crowded that it was. In order to not take the chance of being over run, she finds the nearest, stable column that’s short enough to climb on to, but as her hand gets a grip of it, someone bumped into her and she was pushed away from her safe zone. She’s prone to the ground and crawls towards a corner to hide in. People didn’t seem to notice her presence, considering the task at hand. She sit’s there until the sun is about to turn the sky orange.

Carts and horses are tucked away and fed by the owners before they leave for the coronation. The streets are clear of the market stands, that it’s even less crowded than it were previously. The locals are wearing formal attires, some with hints of yellow to intimidate gold. Our human comes out of her corner and walks along the crowd as they all head to the ceremony.

She eventually arrives to the palace. It’s ginormously large, bigger than any other large building she encountered. On what she can see on the front, there are two watch towers on either side, and small statues of Aasimars. One on top of each tower, and center peak of the front. There are also a set of stairs on the base of the palace, and giant columns that support the roof. Upon entering though the iron bolted doors, the main hall/throne room, has many tables and chairs, exclusively for everyone. Torches hanging on the walls and columns. Above there are a couple of large bowls of fire, hanging from the ceiling and interior balconies that over look all the central bottom floor and the opposite side of where the viewers can see. The thrones are located at the back, there are two of which belong to the queen and her mate. And a red curtain behind them.

A lot of people seem to have taken their seats. Our human finds hers as well, located near the second column from the front left. Upon sitting, she sees other people who attended the coronation, not wearing what the locals wear. They seem to be dressed modestly like her. There are mixtures of races within the building. There are Aarakocras, Dwarves, Goliaths, Elves, and a group with a tiefling, a couple humans, a pale soldier, what seems to be an orc, a pink firbolg, and a green halfling. Perhaps it’s an open house party.

Time passes as the tables are being filled. Then, a clinking sound appears from the thrones. The choir sings in a beautiful tune, in front of the thrones. What comes out of the curtained background of the thrones is the king. A Tiefling in his late fifties, with a white color stripe on his beard, wears a blue robe. He bows forward to the audience, stands up, and walks towards his throne that’s on his left, to sit down. Another clink occurs and comes out, the queen. A Goliath and also in her late fifties, wears a pink dress. She bows as well and walks toward her thrown on her right to sit. And after that, comes out the princess. A Tiefling like her father, and seems to be almost in her twenties. Has majestic long hair, a round face, and tanned skin. Wears a green dress, and seems to be holding a scepter with two hands. It’s made out of valuable material and the top of it is in a circular ring shape. There are six spikes around with non pointed shapes, and four chains, linking towards a central jewels, what appears to be a Jasper.

She then clinks the ground with it, and what appears to be an elderly female bishop. The princess then drops the scepter into a compartment, so it will stand in front of the throne. She turns and the bishop hands her, what seems to be a family heirloom. A crystal, covered out of a precious metal. The princess faced towards the audience, and the bishop raises a golden choker with a pearl attached, as the choir stops singing. She chants in a Zemnian language as she lowers the jewelry to the princess’ shoulder levels and as she was about to attach it to the princess’ neck, she finishes her chant by saying “Queen Bree Sevada” And every one in the building cheers in her name.

Then, while the audience clap, our human notices that the bishop twirled the princess’ hair on her right as she placed her hands on her shoulders. A moment passes, and servants came down the stairs on each side of the hall, bringing the guests food and beverages. When all of them were set, Queen Bree says “May the feast fill your desires.” and bows to them, then turns and joins her parents on her own throne that the servants brought to her after the coronation.

The food is consist of pastries, roasted chicken, potatoes, fruit and vegetables. And the drinks are pitchers of water and bottles of wine. Everyone, and our human, starts gathering food and eating their plate. There were not enough chairs for every one, because of tourists, though the former queen had already thought this out. There is a buffet amongst the sides of the main hall, for the extra guests to grab a plate and have their free evening meal.

When everyone finished their dinner, it has turned dark. And all of a sudden, they all hear a tune playing. There are a hand full of people who are just holding their plats while standing in the doorway.

They all looked outside and one of them shouts “There’s a band playing outside!”

One of the guests says “I wanna go dance.” And it encourages more people to go out and dance as well.

Our human stands at the door way, sees the band at the bottom of the stairs, and pairs dancing to the beat.

She hears a couple of guests, sitting on the side of the stairs, one of them tells the other “This is so weird. First the early coronation, and now a band outside? They say that there will be a dance after, but don’t coronation dances take place inside? They even said that the palace has a ball room big enough for all of us.”

It brought concern to her. If that were the case, that would mean they want to watch us dance. As she turned to check on the royal family, she finds no one at the throne area, but she does catch a glimpse of the king and queen walking through a door on the left of the throne. She rushes over them as the echoing sounds of her steps fills the room.

She reaches to the door and knocks on it “Your majesties, is there something wrong?”

The door creaks open slightly, then a voice goes “They no longer hold that title and are very busy right now, please do not disturb.” She can’t see anything from the door crack. There is no torch light in there.

The door closes and she tries to keep the gap open, but her middle and ring finger ends up being crushed by the door. “AHH-” She screamed in agony, but blocked off her sound with her off hand.

She didn’t want the citizens to panic over the disappearance of their new queen.

She then pulled in her fingers and held them tightly to numb the pain. “I know you have a ball room in the palace, why are we dancing outside anyway?”

There was silence, no reply. “I’ll help you with anything, please tell me what’s wrong?”

A minute passes, then the door opens, they waved their hands to for her to enter. She gets in, and the door closes behind her.

The sound of a spark creates a fire to light and the inside is a ten by ten feet room. A door that leads to the back and another door where the human just entered. There is a shelf of brushes and a broom. It seems to be a a cleaner’s closet.

The Goliath former queen and Tiefling former king are wrapping each other with their arms, holding one another. “What’s wrong?” said the human.

“Tell us your name.” Asked the Tiefling.

She replies with “I am Ezuvae.”

“Ezuvae what?” says the Goliath.

“It’s just Ezuvae, madam.”

“You are very young” says the tiefling.

Ezuvae replies “I helped out my master when he needed things like errands and monsters that encountered his home.”

“I see”

“But I want to help you. I have the sense that you’re in trouble.”

The two glanced over at each other and back to Ezuvae. The former queen goes “Our daughter is in trouble.” They then tell what happened two months ago. Bree was studying in her room. She wanted to learn how to solve problems, and help our people. However, she had trouble understanding some particular books she had because they were written in Zemnian. They hired the bishop since she spoke and read Zemnian. It wen’t fine until earlier today. The bishop ambushed their meal with pirates and snatched Bree. She demanded to have the coronation at sundown or the pirates will harm her. Once the coronation was over, they have to draw out the guests in order to have the new queen all to herself. She even told the two to not disturb them.

“Where is Queen Bree right now?” Asked Ezuvae. 

The former king lets go of his wife, and places both hands on Ezuvae’s shoulders and goes “The bishop took her to our room. It has our family’s mark on it.”

Ezuvae is guessing that the mark is in a hexagon shape with what seems to be a weird looking pine tree going through. The trunk is too short & thin, and the leaves and branches forms a kind of tall pyramid separated into pieces. She has seen that mark when she arrived here.

As she starts to turn to the door, the tiefling hold her still and continues “What ever you do, don’t let your guard down. The bishop hasn’t been herself lately.”

She nods to him as the guard, who was holding the door the entire time, opens it and she swiftly heads up to the closest flight of stairs.

Just as soon as she reaches to the top the stairs, a crossbow bold flies pass her face and pierces to the stone wall. She lost balance when she leaned back, but she quickly grabbed hold of the railing and stands back up again. She glances to her right, she sees for a brief moment, what could be the captain, and their crew member.

A deep voice occurs and goes “Get them!” as foot steps are fading to the left.

They are in a 10ft wide/ 180ft long hall way with a set of doors on the right that lead to a room she doesn’t know. and two path that lead to the left

The pirate rushes towards her, swings his hook, but she dodges the out of the way, still holding on to the railings. She then goes pass him, grabs the pirate’s back, leans backwards, sets her feet on him, and launches him across the hall as she rolls to a three point stance. The pirate falls on to his back., just laying there. As Ezuvae stands back up, another pirate takes her swing with a light hammer, but Ezuvae manages to stop it on time. The pirate then disengages, going 10ft backwards into the open path. The other path is an intersecting hall way. The human can see the captain heading into another path, behind the pirate.

Ezuvae force kicks the pirate and tries to punch her, but she immediately gets out of the way. The human tries to kick her again, but she blocked it and punched Ezuvae right into the face. She steps back 5ft. Meanwhile, the pirate that was prone, stands up and sees Ezuvae, backing up from the punch. He rushes towards her from the back. The other pirate takes a swing at her. The hammer hits her stomach. Ezuvae pulls out her dagger and stabs the pirate on the back (literally) By this time, she notices the first pirate rushing. She passes by the other and quickly heads towards the end of the hall way. The two Pirates rush towards her, one of them throws the hammer but it misses.

As Ezuvae was running, she pulls out a small metal barrel with a wooden base and points it at them, it made a small explosion and the wall seemed to be hit my a mysterious force. With that, the pirates stop themselves from chasing. Ezuvae continued on forward into another hall way.

Based on where she saw the captain headed, she follows. Upon looking for the master bedroom, Ezuvae finds an open door. In it, was an alchemist’s lab. There is a lot of equipment, chemicals and elements, fully stocked. She finds a greater healing potion, on one of the desks and a container of sulfur pieces. She takes this opportunity to craft equipment and drinks the potion. After twenty minutes, she has crafted a blasting powder within a pouch. After that, she rushes out to the door, she accidently bumped a shelf, and a weird potion spilled on her. There seems to be no effect, so she continued onward.

Racing against time, she finds the family’s mark on the door. Ezuvae looks around and finds a few paintings on the wall. They’re portraits of the royal family. At least, what’s left of them. She takes Princess Bree’s, the painting before the coronation. Holds up the painting’s back towards the door and kicks it open. As the doors flung open, a bolt appeared on the painting. The tip nearly touches her armor. Ezuvae drops the painting to see the captain standing on top of the bed. He has long hair, wears a purple robe, and welds a hand crossbow with a long sword on his side. The room itself, is large. About 40/50ft. Four columns supporting another interior balcony, two flight of stairs, and a huge window behind the bed. The captain quickly reloads his crossbow then the human hides behind the column. He fires but it misses.

“Just c’mon and give up!” Yelled the pirate.

“Our master promises she will give us great pleasure when she’s done with the queen. She may be old, but she knows how to satisfy a man.”

Ezuvae muttered “Ew.”

He then hops off the bed and walks toward the pillar she’s hiding. He draws his sword as he continues “You might have a taste of her, if you’d stop interfering.”

He stops at the pillar and peaks around, “I promise we’ll go slow.”

And all of a sudden, she quickly draws the barrel and points it at the captains face and *Boom* nothing happened to him, except for the loud sound. He got startled and stepped back.

Ezuvae drops the blasting powder underneath him, runs away from him and points the barrel at the pouch. It explodes, launching him 3ft into the air and prone to the ground. The human rushed over to him, kicks away his crossbow, tries to steal his sword but that was unsuccessful. She then proceeds to punching his stomach and miss stabbing his wrist that welds the sword. She backs up as the captain gets up. Unable to do anything at the moment, Ezuvae stabs him twice but misses, and she grabbed him to head-butt him.

The pirate captain slashes his sword at her, but somehow, Ezuvae didn’t get cut. He aimed at her stomach, so why aren’t her gut spilled out?. With out even thinking, Ezuvae slashes him with the dagger. Her two attempts miss, but the third and punch succeeds. He aims towards her head and misses, but she manages to slash him. She also kicked the back of his leg to fall on one knee.

As he gets up and turns around, he was met with an upper cut. Falling backwards, he becomes prone once again. Ezuvae stabs his wrist, making him let go of his sword. He screams from the pain and then she kicks him in the face. He quickly gets up and grabs his sword with his other hand., but as he stands up, he gets greeted with a kick in the stomach. He manages to keep standing after backing a few feet.

Looking at his condition, he looks really beaten up. Blood is comming out of the stab wounds and from the head-butt.

Ezuvae says “You should be the one to give up.”

Without saying anything, He swings at her, but missed. She then slashes him, and points the barrel at his right shoulder. *Boom* blood splashed on to the floor, and He lies there unconscious.

After a relived sigh, Ezuvae hears a sinister laugh. And behind her are the sound of chains clanking. She turns around to see Queen Bree being lowered down. Her wrists are shackled over her head. Her dress, completely shredded, leaving behind a shoulder piece and strips of her dress. And her one-piece girdle is exposed to see. And her face expresses in a miserable exhaustion. She can see the leftover trail of tears on her cheeks.

Shocked to see her condition, Ezuvae shouts to her “YOUR MAJESTY!! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!”

The voice echoes the room “Ha ha ha ha ha,”

Glancing up, she sees a red humanoid figure falling from the ceiling and circles around her before it hits the ground, and continues saying “She cant hear you. I drained all of her energy. But don’t worry, it’ll return after a few hours of rest.” It then stops and floats in front of her.

What Ezuvae sees the figure with red skin, sharp nails, a pointed tail, giant bat wings attached to the back, and wears the attire of a bishop. Taking a closer look, she realizes that the winged figure is the bishop she saw before. Ezuvae was frightened for seeing a being like this for the first time. The bishop smirked. Ezuvae glances towards the queen behind the bishop, and shrugs off the fear. She then puts away the barrel, holds the dagger with both of hands in front of her. The bishop was impressed. Like it is her first time encountering such bravery.

But she gives Ezuvae a remorse look. “Delicious, but annoying. So, DIE!!!” She then takes her claws and swings it at Ezuvae.

Before the claw meets, Ezuvae felt a shattering force hitting on her back. Then what comes a blue mist surrounding her. The red bishop backs away from the mist, cause it harmed her mildly, and what comes are two individuals running into the bedroom. As the mist fades, Ezuvae sees them in front of her. On her right is a wood elf, welding a staff, wearing a brown robe with the royal family’s marking on the back. And on her left is a tiefling wearing chainmail armor, welding a mace and a shield.

“What was that?” asked Ezuvae.

“I just gave you an upgrade.” answered the tieflng.

Confused, she was about to ask- but was cut off when the wood elf goes “No time for questioning. We have to save her.”

He’s right. Ezuvae positions herself by widening her stance, lowering her body, points the dagger at the bishop, and rests her free hand on the bottom handle.

The elf walks forward to the bed and releases a lightning bolt, from this chest, at the bishop. The strike boils her veins, painfully. Ezuvae then gets closer underneath and throws her dagger, right on to her stomach, and backs away. The tiefling then summons a spiritual weapon next to the bishop. The weapon is in a form of Darlin the Baseball Bat. It takes a swing and hits the back of her head. The bishop leans forward from the blow.

Looking at the bat, the bishop notices Ezuvae and casts a charm spell on her. Evuvae felt her body being paralyzed as the speel takes over. She can’t speack either. All she can do is watch and feel the world around her. The bishop then flies towards Ezuvae. The elf runs toward the human and tries to hit her with his staff, but she dodged the impact. She then kicked the elf and pulls the dagger out of the bishop. But then, *POW* Ezuvae gets hit right at the face by the tiefling’s handle. The hit was able to brake off the spell. As the bishop was surprised, she gets hit on the head again by the magic baseball bat.

Frustrated, she charges toward and slashes Ezuvae and the tieffling with her claws. Ezuvae got scratched on her shoulder, it felt worse than a slap, while the tiefling blocks it with her shield. The bishop scratches the shield, and the tiefling pushes forward, grabs her arm, and the bishop feels her arm being pierced over and over again like salt rubbing her wounds. And then was pushed 180 degrees around the tiefling. As all of that is happening, the spiritual weapon flies over, behind the bishop and smacks her once again. After that, the elf also smacked her head with his staff. The bishop is weaken. The necroticy did a number on her. As she lies prone, Ezuvae kicks her over, pulls out and points the barrel at her beaten face and says, “You’re gross.” And the bishop’s head explodes, leaving a splatter of blood and bits of scorch marks all over the floor..

It’s now over. They won. After a minute passes the elf created a magical hand to unshackle the queen’s wrists. Ezuvae stands underneath Queen Bree to catch her. As the chains are freed, she falls onto Ezuvaes arms. She manages to catch her, but being bearably clumsy, she falls back, onto the bed. The queen lands flat on top of her. Her head rests next to Ezuvae’s, arms still over her head. In a brief moment, her arms contract and wraps them around Ezuvae. She’s still unconscious, but she feels like there’s someone there. Whatever happen to her, whatever she experienced, she holds that person tight and does not wish to let go. She wants to feel safe. Ezuvae felt Bree’s sorrow.

She wraps her arms around her body, holds her in close and whispers “Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

[redpandapanic8]

The origin of the Master sword

So I’m playing through Breath of The Wild again and Something Impa said that made me really think about the origin of the Master Sword and Beginning of the Legend of Zelda.

She said “The warrior with the sword that possessed the soul of a hero and the princess with the blood of the goddess”

so with that In mind, I posit a theory, some of which is based on information from the games and other part of which i am taking creative liberty.

~~

Long ago, before any mortal being existed, there was the Goddess Hylia.  Hylia created the world, and in a lnd that was infused with magic. It was a peaceful land and as time passed and many mortal races began to Journey to this Land for its magic as well as it bountiful lands.

Among these races were the Hylians, name so for their likeness in appearance to Hylia as well as their dedication to the goddess. they named the Land Hyrule to honor the goddess and her gifts to the land.

Their worship flattered the goddess and she often found herself watching them as they progressed over the decades.

Also among these races were a magical race born of the pure magic of the land called the Korok. These magical creatures were able to use and harness the magic of the land.

As the years passed, Hylia found herself often watching the land of Hyrule and Hylians as then went about their lives. she watch them grow from a small group, to a tribe, to many villages that spread across the plains, until a time came where they had grown into a sizable kingdom. The kingdom was beginning to have diplomatic dealings with the parts of Hyrule that belonged to the other races that had also settled there. The King, a wise and kind leader who sought peace was looking for a few knights to be his guardsmen. He made an announcement for all able bodied and capable youngings to train and try out for the royal guard, which he had decided would be a a small group of six. big enough to discourage neredowells but not large enough to make the neighboring people nervous.

Hylia watched as the king began the task of searching for the knights that would become his royal guard. Young boys and girls and fighters of all races came to train for the chance to protect the king.

As Hylia watched the candidates train for weeks and weeks, a single warrior caught her eye. He was not particularly strong or large, and not once during his weeks of training had he spoken a word, but despite his silence, Hylia could hear louder than any words, the courage in his heart.

The goddess soon found her days consumed with watching the small warrior train and silently routing him on in his endeavors. The small warrior, knowing his size and strength were lacking spent hours outside of training  honing his skills. In the woods by where he lived he would practice nonstop until dawn. these actions tugged heavily at the Goddess’ heart and soon she found herself infatuated with the young warrior. She would regularly watch him practice from a distance, hidden by trees and magic.

But one evening, As the goddess watch the small warrior train, he vanished from her sight, as she turned to leave she found that it was she who was now being watched. But how? There was no way that the people on the land should be able to see her outside of the Koroks.

The goddess knew she should run, it wasn’t good for mortals to see her, but she had been watching the small warrior for weeks. She had thought of talking to him, knowing more about his life. Would he be angry that she had watched him?

But no, the small Warrior was not angry. He instead, put forth his hand to hear, as if they were equals. Did He not know she was?

She reached out and took his hand. he shook it as if to introduce himself. what he did next took her by surprise. He placed a spare sword in her hand and then backed up into a defensive position. And while he never Spoke, The goddess heard clearly, “If you're here, then youre gonna spar with me”.

The goddess stood dumbfounded for a moment but he tapped his sword against the one in her hands and she felt something inside her rise up. She gripped the sword and soon she and the Small Warrior were sparring.

They continued this routine, She would meet him in the woods at sundown and spar with him. through this practice the warrior and the Goddess began to grow close and soon fell in love with each, but neither spoke of it, for they felt it improper for a Goddess to love a mortal.

Soon, the time came for The King to choose his royal guard and the same courage that had drawn the attention of the Goddess to the small warrior and drawn the eye of the king. the Small warrior was chosen, along with a handful of others, to be a knight in the kings royal guard.

however many candidates were turned away, among them was the kings son, The Prince Ganon. embarassed the prince soon began to resent the king. His heart craved power and strength and his father had seen that and wanted to humble him. But the prince only grew more bitter.

The Small warrior in excitement ran to meet the Goddess at their spot. She was waiting there for him with a girt. A special sword, blessed by her magic to never break or lose its shine. A gift to celebrate his success. In their excitement they embraced, and from there, there was no denying the love they had for each other.

Months passed and the couple met regularly while the small warrior’s courage made him stand out and the king soon took a liking to him, requesting him as a personal body guard and this infuriated the prince. Ganon was filled with thoughts of jealousy and greed. How could his father prefer this small silent nobody to him. what did this small warrior have that he, a prince, didn't.

So Ganon, secretly followed the the small Warrior home and saw that he was meeting with the Goddess.

That how he had beaten Ganon, he had cheated, the goddess had given him power. That is what Ganon thought. So he returned to the castle and began to research the magic of the land. he was going to take the power he deserved and if the goddess wasn’t going to give it to him, he would take him himself. Ganon found a passage about the korok and their natural connection to the magic of the land.

So Ganon gather a few of the strongest of those rejected by the king and fed their bitter hearts with lies of betrayal and cheating. He then led them into the domain of the koroks and laid seige against them, he demanded of them a secret to gain power. They knew of a way, that could make him and his followers more powerful and immortal, but it at the cost of part of their souls.

Blinded by rage and hatred, Ganon and his men did not care. they took the power and slaughter many korok stealing their magic. The more magic they consumed the less human they became. Ganon became a horrific beast and the men who he had brought with him became wicked goblin like creatures.

They left the korok domain in ruins and headed back to the kingdom to seek out their revenge.

They devastated the Land and attacked people indiscriminately, their senses of right and wrong completely gone.

Ganons beastly figure loomed over the castle as he demanded to see his father. He demanded that the king give up the small warrior and he give up his thrown. the king refused. this angered Ganon. Even now, with all his power, his father would still choose the little warrior. How could he not see his strength? It was that dam goddess blessing. that must be it. He told the king this much, said the warrior was a fraud. his power wasn't his, it came from the goddess. Ganon turned and saw the sun beginning to set and decreed to destroy the goddess, that then they would all see the warriors true weakness.

The warrior, who had been standing by the king, felt fear grip his heart as Ganon’s beastly form turned with a wicked grin towards his home and woods where he met the Goddess.

The warrior began to run when the king stopped him. the king gave the warrior his fastest horse. The king and the kings guard all vowed to stall Ganon as long as they could. the warrior nodded gratefully and took off to save his love.

he urged the horse forward with all his heart, hoping that his love for the goddess would move him magically forward.

Thanks to the aid of the king and his Guard, The Small warrior barely made it before ganon. he faced the Goddess and the joy on her face from seeing soon vanished as she saw the fear on his. he ran to her and held for just a moment before ganon appeared. The warrior turned to face the beast.

And the warrior, as he yelled at the goddess to run, tightly gripped the sword she had made him and charged at ganon.

he fought courageously but ganon’s power was too much, and as the warrior tired, ganon struck a fatal blow. ganon laughed as the life drained from the warrior, boasting of his own immortality as another sign of how his power was greater.

the goddess, who could not run and leave her love to die, ran to the dying warrior. She gripped his hand and cried.he smiles at her, whispering three words before passing away. But in her grief and anger, the goddess’ power began to swell. hylia took the sword she had made for her love and with her power, she infused the last remnant of his soul within the sword. The soul, created by the goddess and powered by warriors courageous soul, began to glow and as it glowed, it’s light began to reach out and touch ganons dark and beastly form in the night. Ganon felt his power stagger in the light of it’s blade.

The goddess hylia knew you couldn’t kill and imortal, but she also know that you could weaken them enough that they would no longer be able to manifest a physical form.

So with sword in hand, the goddess remember all of the sparring her and the warrior had done together, the joy those moments had brought her, and with her love and pain guiding her, she swung hard and fast at the beast Ganon. With ever strike, she beat him back and she be him down. Her power, having grown so strong, she had grown to the same massive size the beast, and all other mortals could see her. the king and his guard, empowered by the light of the Goddess and her sword, began to push back ganons monstrous men.

With a final swipe, the goddess struck ganon down and with no soul to hold his physical form together he evaporated into dark dust. as he vanished, his monsters began to fall one by one and vanish as well.

Exhausted from the fight, the goddess began to shrink back down and collapsed.

The and his men,now permantly able to see the goddess, took her to the castle and waited to for to awake.

When she awoke she assured them that ganon was not dead, he had just been sealed away by the power of the sword and the goddess. He would rise again once he had regained his strength. but not in their life times.

The Goddess then confides in the king that she is with Child, but that the child will take enough of her power, that she too will no longer be able to take a physical form. The king assured her, he would raise the child as if they were his own. She assured him that the power would stay dormant and be passed down from mother to daughter, so that when Ganon did return, the child could help seal him away again. and while she wouldnt be able to have a physical form, she would dtill have enough power to influence and guide the ancestor tasked with sealing ganon away again.

The korok decided that their knowledge of the land’s magic was too powerful for any mortal to have so they created a magical labyrinth that would cause any who enter it would immediately walk back out or get lost. They also agreed to keep the sword infused with the warriors soul there, where only one who was chosen by the sword could retrieve it. they assured the Goddess that when the time came, the sword would choose a hero to wield it and to stand by the side of her ancestor in order to seal away ganon. with this knowledge, the goddess gladly gave her power up to protect the land the land she had made.

A baby girl was born with golden blonde hair and sea blue eyes. the king honored his promise to Goddess, never telling the princess of her origin, and he passed, the princess inherited the kingdom. Beginning a long line of royalty blessed by the goddesss. In their rule, the kingdom grew and flourished. So large and prosperous that all but a chosen few forgot the truth of what happen. these chosen people named themselves the sheikah and hold it their duty to pass down the essential knowledge needed to defeat ganon.

~~~~

wow this was a lot longer than i expected. anyways this is basically just a short fanfic more then it an actual fanthrory. But i definatley think something similar to this happened. at least in the BOTW universe.

[patandpran]

The Nuisance and the Handsome Prince - A Sarawatine Medieval AU - Chapter 1

Tine is an aspiring Squire who has been training his whole life to work alongside the Kingdom's finest Knights. Sarawat is a Prince who, on the outside, seems fierce and unapproachable. He is disinterested in any of his royal duties, namely his Knight training.

What happens when Tine is assigned to be the fierce and handsome prince's Squire?

Aka The Medieval AU that I can't get out of my head.

Read on Archiveofourown here, Read the prequel by the lovely @sarawatism here 

Tine grew up in a household where the royal family’s portraits were mounted on the wall only out sheer necessity - if any castle guards decided to do a random inspection, they would pass as a family loyal to the crown. But the truth was that Tine’s parents had always encouraged him to question authority, albeit in a discreet and quiet rebellion.

His family was middle class and he was the son of a blacksmith that was proud of the weapons and tools he produced. While Tine wasn’t exactly interested in how to create the wares that kept the roof above his head, he loved the power that the items possessed. Specifically, he loved the way that the swords his father created crashed and clanged together.

Tine thanked the Gods that his older brother, Type, was ready to take over the family business. While it meant Type inherited the storefront and the craft of black-smithery, it gave Tine the freedom to explore and forge his own career path.

Since he was very young, all that Tine wanted to be was a squire to a knight. He was not delusional enough to aspire to be a knight; a birthright was required to ascend to such a position and Tine knew damn well there wasn’t any lordship in his family tree. This didn’t dismay him though. He didn’t want the glory or the title of the fight, he just wanted to be on the playing field, in the middle of the ruckus.

Tine trained with his best friend, Ohm, and Ohm’s father who was a retired squire himself. He had fought next to the king in the last battle and assisted many other knight’s of high positions during his career and Tine looked up to him and considered every word that the man spoke as sacred.

Ohm was quite disinterested in their training but made a point of putting in some effort to that Tine didn’t leave him completely bruised and bloody after every sword match. They had grown up training together and knew each other’s moves as if they were each other’s shadow. They were as close as true kin and while Ohm did not necessarily share Tine’s passion for his future as a squire, he played along enough to keep his father off his back.

Tine’s family had been wary at first when he announced his career intentions as the ripe age of thirteen but after five years of intense training, he had the blessing of his father to pursue the career he had always dreamt about. On his eighteen birthday, Tine’s father presented him with something that Tine would treasure most out of any of his earthly possessions: his very own sword.

The sword had a hilt that was specifically designed to fit in Tine’s grasp and was perfectly balanced to help with his fighting style. When his father passed the sword to him for the first time, tears had sprung to Tine’s eyes and he knew officially that he was ready with his father’s approval to go after his dream.

Every spring the kingdom hosted Squiring trials in the heart of the castle ground for the kingdom at large. Knights from near and far would attend, hoping to find the best, most eager fresh squires to assist them on their missions. It was that very spring that Ohm and Tine would attend their first trials, hoping to be selected by one of the honourable knights.

The morning of the first day of the trials, Tine woke with a start and his stomach clenched with nerves. He had never been inside of the castle walls before and he was more than ready to see how the other side lived. He dressed quickly in his simple armour and placed the sword that his father had forged for him in his belt. His mother had prepared a delicious and hearty spread for his breakfast but Tine could only pick at it.

Tine was enveloped in a strong hug by each of his family members. His father held on the longest and Tine couldn’t but feel inspired by the support that was surrounding him. His family was not permitted to attend the trials as they were commoners so they would have to wait until the end of each day to know the result.

Ohm was waiting just outside of Tine’s family home, leaning lethargically against a post. He munched absentmindedly on an apple and then fed the core to his horse before noticing Tine. “Good morning. Are you ready?”

Tine chuckled at just how disinterested his best friend seemed. “Good to go. Where is your father?”

“He went ahead to meet with the other former squires.” Ohm explained as he began to mount his horse. Tine prepared his own horse before climbing on its back. “They have their own viewing area for the trials but he’s rooting for us.”

The journey to the castle gate was not very long, in fact, Tine secretly wished it was longer. His heart raced as they looked upon the large stones that made up the outer wall of the fortress that housed the royal family. It would be the first time in a long while that Tine saw the royal family in person…

“Hey”

A voice called out and caught Tine’s attention as he finished filling up the water bucket his mother had requested he filled for their evening bath. Tine was so startled by the unexpected interruption that the bucket spilled from his fingers and spilled over the cobblestones and soaked his shoes.

Tine furrowed his brow in frustration and glared up at the person that had caused the accident. His breath was violently pulled from his lungs when he realized who was addressing him.

“My prince.” Tine quickly bent down on one knee and ducked his head in apology.

The prince cocked his head to the side in amusement and knelt down to pick up the fallen bucket. Tine watched in fascination as the prince tugged on the rusty handle of the water spout and pumped water until the bucket was full again.

Tine had only ever seen Prince Sarawat in the portraits on his family home’s walls and had always been drawn to the prince’s fierce gaze. Tine was shocked to see that the gaze the prince was famous for was nowhere to be found and instead a fond smile graced his lips as he held the brimming bucket out toward Tine.

His head reeling with confusion, Tine slowly rose to his feet and took the bucket from the prince. Their fingertips brushed during the exchange and Tine thought it might be a sign of good luck to touch a royal, and, without thinking, intertwined his fingers with Sarawat’s. “Uh…” The prince muttered, an anxious look in his eyes. “Can I get my hand back, please?”

“Sorry, my grace.” Tine pulled his hand away from the prince’s and scolded himself for the under thought action. “I just thought that you your touch might bring my family or my future a blessing.”

“I’m just a human, you know.” Sarawat stated plainly, a hint of frustration in his voice as the fierce gaze stretched across his face. “I thought you were different. That’s why I came over here but, I guess you’re just like the rest.”

The prince turned and Tine felt shame spreading through him. Their interaction was over before it even began. No one would believe him if he told them the story of the prince, he thought, as he walked the long way home from the town centre. No one would believe that the Prince would see something in him and then retracted the thought so he never shared the story with anyone.

Horns signalling the beginning of the trials shocked Tine back into attention, the memory of his one interaction with royalty lingering in his mind. Ohm nudged his friend and mouthed, “Are you okay?”

Tine nodded at Ohm reassuringly as the castle gates swung open, inviting all the squire candidates to enter for the specific occasion. Tine and Ohm dismounted their horses upon entering the castle gate and passed them off to people they assumed to be castle servants.

They were lead by a knight into one of the outer castle yards where a makeshift arena had been arranged. The stands were full of knights that they could potentially be paired with, members of the royal court and on a high stand stood the royal family, sitting on their four thrones: The King, The Queen, Prince Phukong and finally, Prince Sarawat.

The prince wore emerald green robes that brought made the intense colour of his eyes even more prominent than the last time Tine had seen him. They were both much older now, having ten years past since their meeting in the town centre. Tine’s breath hitched at the passing thought of the Prince possibly recognizing him but abandoned it quickly.

“Potential squires.” The King stood to his feet and addressed the crowd. “Members of the court, knights from all across the realm, some of our retired squires and most importantly, my family, we are here today to witness the Squire trials. Good luck to all the candidates and remember, even if you aren’t selected this year, please come back next spring.”

The crowd erupted with cheers and, just like that, the trials began. The knight that led them into the castle grounds split all the candidates into small sparring groups. Each squire was given an opponent and a wooden stick. The aim was to knock the opponent’s stick out of their hands and whoever won moved onto the next round of the trials.

Tine faced off against his opponent, a big and muscly looking young man, and circled in a defensive position. The stranger lunged at him and struck forward. Tine easily dodged the attack by ducking out of the way and as he moved back up to his feet, swiftly knocked his opponent’s stick to the ground. It was over in a matter of seconds. His attacker looked at Tine, dumbfounded, but was quickly swept off the field to make way for new partners. Tine barely had a chance to feel proud of his accomplishment.

Half of the crowd of candidates disappeared during the first round. Tine was relieved to see that Ohm remained amongst the thinning few that remained. Ohm, while disinterested in training, was a natural born fighter. It was in his blood so Tine was not too worried about his friend’s success in the trials.

The next round challenged the candidates to a test of wits as they were presented with an iron box that concealed an item that the head knight claimed that they needed to retrieve to advance successfully to the next round.

Tine examined the box slowly as the candidates surrounding him took to hacking away at the thing with their swords and other weapons. He had spent much time in his father’s workshop and while he had never been particularly interested in his father’s work, he admired just how passionate his father was for intricate craftsmanship. Tine turned the perplexing box over and over in his hands until he spotted a line in the design. He traced it with his fingers until he found that one of the corners of the box was much weaker than the rest. He placed the box on the ground before pressing the tip of his sword into the corner. At first nothing happened but after attempting a few different angles, the box popped open.

The crowd erupted with cheering as the item was revealed: a key. Tine retrieved it quickly and looked up to see that he was the first to accomplish the feat. The crowds cheering made his heart race with exhilaration but he knew that he needed to remain humble. He slowly turned toward the King who was surprised to find studying him with intensity. But that wasn’t what made the breath escape from Tine’s lungs: Prince Sarawat was looking at him with something that resembled interest as a smirk spread across his lips.

Tine tore his gaze away from the royal family and re-focused. Slowly, more and more candidates successfully opened their boxes, each finding a key of their own. Ohm was among the next few to retrieve the key and once he had, he made his way over to Tine with a grin spread across his lips.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Ohm asked.

“Don’t jinx us so early.” Tine muttered, as he was ever suspicious.

“Trust your training.” Ohm reassured him and clapped a steady hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I believe in you.”

Before Tine could share his appreciation for his friend’s words, the horn signally the next round’s start echoed through the arena. A set of burly looking knights brought a collection of odd-shaped cases out onto the field. “Each key has a coordinating lock. Find the lock, find your weapon and find your opponent. You will know your opponent as you both will have the same weapon. First one to fall will be disqualified. Go!”

The slew of young men advanced upon the cases, desperate to be the first to find their weapon. Tine snaked through the crowd swiftly, trying each lock with his key. Finally, after six attempts, a lock sprung open to reveal his intended weapon: a lute.

Tine took up the instrument with utter confusion. The strings sparkled under the hot sun, refracting the light of the afternoon into Tine’s eyes. He squinted and contemplated the absurdity of the situation but was humbled when he saw the rest of the young men around him had the same predicament at hand. They were meant to face off with items that were beyond the conventional definition of ‘weapon’.

Tine wielded the thing as if it was the sword he father had made for him and spotted another candidate with a lute in his hands. Tine advanced upon the young stranger and coughed to catch his attention. Tine was always in favour of a fair fight. His opponent didn’t seem to agree.

A flash of a discreetly concealed knife appeared from his opponent’s pants pocket. The young man smirked slyly, keeping the knife hidden behind the instrument but it didn’t make it any less lethal. They began to circle each other in a fighting stance, each stepping one foot across the other before his opponent advanced upon him with a raging cry.

Tine decided that if his opponent was going to play dirty, he might as well too. As soon as the man got close enough to get a proper stab in, Tine moved the neck of the lute in front of his opponent’s feet and his opponent clumsily tripped over it and fell face down into the dirt.

“Disqualified!”

Tine had made it. All the blood, sweat, tears and exhaustion that he had put into his training over the years had finally paid off. He had survived the first day of the Squire Trials and that was more than he could've asked for when he entered the castle gates that morning.

At the end of the day, there were fifteen young candidates left on the field, each more exhausted than the first. Tine and Ohm exchanged a relieved look between them before the horns that signalled the beginning of the first selection ceremony sounded across the arena. The crowd became silent as the King stood to his feet, ready for whatever announcement he was about to make.

“As per tradition, I will make the first selection for my eldest son, Prince Sarawat.” The King announced, a mighty tremor to his voice. “The Squire that will work by my son’s side during his knight training will be… you!”

Tine followed the King’s gaze and was shocked to find that it was settled on him. His heart immediately leapt into his throat as he looked at Prince Sarawat who looked, if anything, disinterested and annoyed by his father’s decision.

This was not what Tine had signed up for.

[rpgexperience]

My servant Devil - session 24

The session ended in...well... as many times before. So check out Wattpad for the proper smut. 

“Abigail? What’s wrong? Are you crying?” Ambrose asks worried, hugging her so she can hide in  his chest. “N-no. I- I’m fine.” Abigail sniffles, quickly trying to dry her tears. She is surprised that he’s back. He claims that he has just arrived and went to see her but she wasn’t home, so he went to the town, hoping to bump into her. He asks what happened and why she’s crying, worried, brushing her tears away and handing her a handkerchief. “It- it doesn't matter… Can you take me home?” Abigail looks up at him desperately. He nods: “Of course,” puts his arm around her and guides her through town to his horse, a beautiful tall grey stud. He helps her up on the horse, then elegantly gets up himself behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso. 

During the journey, Abigail questions him about his journey, trying to keep the conversation away from her. Ambrose says that he had business meetings in Edinburgh, made contracts with new tea suppliers, met up with the Elvish tribes from the North, who seem worried about the current situation. Apparently there were some attacks, but the Elves are strong and know how to protect themselves. He assures Abigail however that she doesn’t need to worry about them, sounding very annoyed. There is something more to this, something hiding behind his eyes but Abigail is too distraught to notice. 

When they reach the mansion, Ambrose elegantly slides off the horse, helping Abigail down as well. She thanks him but he just smiles, happy that he found her. He places a kiss on the back of her hand: “Abby... I wanted to talk to you. About what happened... before our travels. But I understand you are distressed today,  so I would like to make a proposal. Why don't you accompany me tomorrow to watch the race?” Race? Abigail isn’t sure what he talks about but simply nods. He grins fondly and tells her to be ready the next day at lunch, then gets back up on his horse and leaves. 

Abigail sadly walks to the office and takes out Ambrose’s book about demons, hoping to find something to mend her broken heart. She reads for a while and learns to perform a ritual to summon a demon. She sets the book aside and thinks for a moment. Does she want to bring him here? After a while of hesitation, she decides against the idea. What would she tell him anyways? How would he appear? Naked in a middle of something? No. She doesn’t want to see him now anyways. 

She shuts the book and walks to her bedroom. Somehow manages to get rid of her dress, then curls up in her bed, hits the pillow few times. Idiot! What was she thinking? Trusting a demon like that… Of course he had no interest in her! Tears stream down her cheeks, crying herself to sleep.

She sleeps very long, until eventually she is woken up by a soft knock on the door. It’s just Kathy, announcing Ambrose’s arrival to the mansion. Still no sign of Lucian. Kathy leaves to bring Ambrose to the tea room while Abigail gets up. She’s lucky and manages to dress herself without anybody’s help, smiling proudly when she sees that she managed to get herself looking all pretty and needs no Lucian for it. 

Ambrose is waiting in the tea room, looking out of the window. “I apologise, I didn't mean to surprise you, I just couldn't wait to see you again,” Ambrose greets her and compliments her looks. He then offers his arm and leads Abigail outside and into a beautiful white carriage waiting outside the mansion. 

 They ride to the races, Ambrose sitting shamelessly close to Abigail inside the carriage, their knees brushing. Abigail thinks about moving away but in the end she stays, this is nothing compared to what he did, right? Ambrose asks about her mission to Germany, doesn’t seem particularly fond of Lady von Lichtenburg, apparently he had asked her for help and she refused.  They arrive at the races, exit the carriage and he offers that Abigail should take him with her instead to which she admits that she was ashamed in front of him and hence needed a bit of a change of scenery. “You don't have to be ashamed in front of me Abigail,” he says, then leans down to whisper to her ear: “I very much enjoyed our night together and I would very much love to see you entirely relaxed like that again.” He runs his fingers down the side of her ear and neck. She giggles and grabs his hand: “We’re in public Ambrose!” “Oh but who would say something? You are lady Maglocke you can do anything you please.” Abigail blushes and suggests to go to the area where all the guests are gathering, hoping to stop his inappropriate behaviour. Ambrose leads her to the running court and up a terrace where all the fancy people are relaxing and lounging. They look very surprised to see them there and soon start whispering and giggling. Abigail looks down ashamed and walks to the front to pretend to watch the horses interested, trying to ignore the gossiping people. Ambrose stands next to her, placing his hand right on her bum. “Ambrose…” she hisses at him, saying that she would like a drink, hoping to make him walk away and stop this. But he instead just calls one of the waiters walking around. Fortunately he at least has to grab the two drinks, handing on to Abigail. After that he doesn’t return his hand to her bum but rather steps right behind her, pressing his crotch against her, at least this way shielding the view from all the people. 

Abigail complains that people are already gossiping about them, so there’s no need to feed the rumours. He leans down and whispers into her ear: “Oh but the people are desolate when they have nothing to gossip about. Just let them have their fun.” He brushes hair behind her ear and softly nibbles on it. “It's been way too long that I had to be without you. Every night I have been dreaming about how it felt, to hold you in my arms, to be so close to you, close like nobody else before me.” He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, sneaking one hand to cup her breast, mentioning that her chest is larger than he remembers. He leans down and nibbles some more on her ear while massaging her breast, while he’s getting a little hard, twitching against her bum. Abigail is looking around nervously, hoping for nobody to see. 

A very quiet moan escapes her lips as he slips his hand down her tummy to stroke her core through the dress. “I knew you secretly like it,” he whispers seductively into her ear. She grabs his hand to stop him: “That’s not the point though. We are in public and there's a crowd of noblemen right behind us.” Ambrose doesn’t let that stop him though and argues: “So? They have not even half the fortune you have. Compared to you they are peasants. Nobody would ever dare to raise their voice against a Maglocke. Besides... if you would finally make our engagement public there wouldn't be a need to worry about this at all.” Abigail pulls back a bit and looks at him surprised, engagement? Since when were they even engaged? 

Suddenly Ambrose makes a step back and falls to his knee, taking her hand. Abigail watches him frozen, oh no, no, no, no, don’t do this. But he did: “Abigail Maglocke, I have already made my intensions very clear to you. You have fully enchanted me the first moment I saw you and ever since then I am under your spell, I cannot think about anything else. I will not find peace until you will finally accept my courting. So please, will you end my suffering and marry me?” He then takes out a little black box and reveals a large diamond ring. Abigail looks at all the people watching, not knowing what to do. Her mind and heart are racing. She’s not ready to tell him yes! She cannot say no in front of all the people, especially since they all know what happened. She comes up with no other plan, then fake fainting. 

Abigail faints like a bad actress, enough to convince the people in the back rows but people have seen this before and some make the conclusion that she has only fainted to escape from having to give the lord an answer. Ambrose catches her in her arms. He carries her over to a lounger, a few butlers start to tend to her, fanning her, while Ambrose sits next to her, holding her hand. While she continues pretending to be out, she can hear the gun being shot and the horses start to run. This catches the attention of the crowd which moves to the railing. She assumes it to be safe to slowly start waking up now. Ambrose looks at her worried, cupping her cheek. He helps her sit up and suggests going home. He refuses to let her stand up and instead picks her up bridal style and carries her to the carriage. He lies her down there, placing her head on his lap. He strokes her hair as they quietly return to the mansion. He then also carries her to the mansion and to her bedroom, placing her on the bed. “Let me help you get out of this dress to be more comfortable,” he offers and without waiting for confirmation or permission, he starts undressing her, completely destroying her dress,  until she’s only in her under-gown. 

He grins down on her: “Oh Abby, you really have matured in the best way since I last met you.” He cups her breasts again, massaging them in rough motions, squeezing them a bit in his hands, then leans down and starts kissing her roughly, hungrily. He roughly parts her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and behind her teeth. He pulls her dress up, caresses her tummy for a moment, but then continues running them up to her breast and pinches her, until her nipples get very excited while she moans from his touches on her over-sensitive breasts: “You can deny it as much as you want, but your body is speaking to me, I see how excited you are to see me again too.” He takes her arms and pins them down, now climbing up on top of her and attacking her again with his rough kisses: “This is what you get for fainting on me like that in front of all the people.”

[...]

Abigail lies deadly in the bed under Ambrose. He watches her for a few moments, then gets up, buttons his trousers back up in a very business manner and clears his throat. “Well then, I will leave you to recover. I hope to see you again soon, lady Maglocke,” he bows his head lightly and walks out. Abigail stares after him shocked that he just got up and left like that, opening her mouth emptily a few times. In the end she just wraps herself in her duvet, turning away from the door, taking a nap, relaxing for the rest of the day. 

[wordlessbabbling]

Gun Metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 7

A warm hand is better than cold, so let me hold yours.

Masterlist

You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.

Through the back alleys and past the pubs; around the whore houses and fight clubs, Dorothy ran in the rain.

The farther she ran, the darker the lamp lights got and the cries of young children got louder.

This was Small Heath.

The market may be the heart of Small Heath but the slums are the reality of Small Heath. It's the version of Small Heath equivalent to that of an actor when they're no longer in front of the camera.

So Dorothy ran. She ran for the same reason that horses ran in races, to win, to beat everyone else to the end.

Dorothy ran to beat the drunks, the cries of kids she couldn't comfort, she ran for the finish line.

It was only when she reached the finish line and crossed the threshold of her home did she take a deep breath and look for her winnings.

She found her winnings in the kitchen, reading the paper.

"Hello Papa!" Dorothy chirped.

"Evenin' Dotty." He quipped back.

Without another word, Dorothy put a record on the gramophone and started cooking up a meal.

"How's mum?" Dorothy was hesitant to ask.

After another brief moment of silence, her father sighed and set down his paper; "she was looking better this mornin'. Sat up enough to nibble on some bread then right back to sleep." His voice slightly shaky, though Dorothy would never point it out, "she awoke again in the afternoon, twtichin' violently. I didn't know what to do Dotty."

His voice shook her heart. Dean Monroe was never weak, never vulnerable; but as the days got harder and the weeks got longer. It was hard to keep the act together.

Dorothy could only squeeze her eyes shut tightly before setting a piece of bread down on a plate and spreading some lard over the top.

She plopped the plate down in front of her father, he looked up raising an eyebrow, "you need to eat, Dot. There's enough bread for both of us." His voice soft with worry.

She only smiled up at him, "it's alright Pa, I already ate."

Her father stared down at her a moment longer before tucking in and eating the bread and lard. Grimacing slightly at the taste.

"I'll go see Ma."

Dorothy left the room quickly. Padding towards the door, she didn't knock, knowing her mother may be asleep.

When she opened the door, she was greeted with the fowl sickly sweet smell of pestilence.

Her mother was sick. Horribly sick. Consumption was the only answer Dorothy could gather from the few medical books she had been given.

They had nothing to treat her with. Only trying their best to use home remedies and keep windows open for ventilation.

They couldn't afford a doctor, least of all the medicine. They were lucky to have a relative from a distant country send some of her books, as she was a nurse in the war.

They tried their best to help her get better but all they could do was stop it from getting worse. They hoped, at least.

She peeked around the door, examining her mother. She was asleep, if it wasn't for the haunting rattle of her lungs seeping out with every breath she took, you would have thought she was dead

Dorothy could only frown. She had cried enough, and it didn't get her anywhere.

Walking towards her mothers bed, she picked up the tea that was now cold and hadn't been touched.

Walking out of her sickly mums room, she paused outside of the door.

'Deep breaths.' That's all it took. She counted the creaky wooden floorboards that did little to warm her house. She counted the cracks on the brick wall that scratched surface of your skin if you brushed against it.

She counted the amount of drops that fell into the bucket from the leak in the ceiling every minute.

She could no longer count anything when the ringing forced its way back into her head.

Tinnitus is what the book said.

Bloody Tinnitus.

As well as being able to look up her mothers symptoms, Dorothy secretly looked up her own. Only to find an incurable auditory hallucination disorder.

Whenever there was silence, there was ringing. The silence was so deafening.

——

It was another week yet when Dorothy saw the man again.

The man she found that maybe wasn't so rude.

It was a Thursday, a slightly grey day, but a day nonetheless.

Dorothy had escaped her home in the early hours of the morning, swiftly making her way to the bakery.

Dorothy liked the calmness of the morning, it was the only time in the day where the whole of the town was still asleep, no drunks, no children crying. Just peace.

So it was a surprise when Dorothy edged towards the heart of Small Heath and spotted the stomping figure of her one... friend, Bubs.

Instantly Dorothy had a smile on her face. The woes of home leaving her instantly as she spotted her slightly peculiar companion through the fog.

"Mornin Bubs!" She chirped merrily.

It wasn't instantly that Thomas' head shot up to look around. Only remembering the voice of the curious girl he'd met a few times.

It was rare Thomas was thankful for anything, but today he was thankful that it was too early for anyone to be out and for his brothers or family to be with him.

Despite all that, he found a very very small smile spread on his face as the petite woman stopped in front of him.

"Hello Bonny." He remarked.

It seemed the two had both grown used to their new nicknames, enjoying the mysterious aroma that followed the twos companionship.

Thomas has found himself thinking about the woman time and time again since their last encounter.

Remembering the interesting evening they had spent together: her attitude, her care for the children; her quiet humming; her baking. “Oh god her baking”. Thomas nearly melted at the memory.

Thomas' day was busy, his mind even more so.

But he always found a time when she would slip through the cracks and invade his thoughts.

"What's got you up this early in the mornin'?" She smiled curiously.

"Just an early stroll to start the day." Thomas lied for the second time he'd known her.

He was actually on his way to the Garrison.

Today was black star day.

And what a day it will be.

"And what a wonderful way to start the morning" Thomas thought. To see her on the day he may not see anyone again.

"On me way to the Garrison before headin' out." Thomas added.

Dorothy nodded before clapping her hands together and gasping;

"I actually need to stop by the Garrison, do you reckon you have time to spare to come open the shop with me then walk to the Garrison together?" She grinned at the thought of spending the early hours of the morning with her new friend.

"You don't have to, of course! I just figured that it'd be nicer to not have to walk alone, it's awfully cold ou-" she was cut off.

"Go on then, lead the way." Thomas gestured his hand in the direction of the bakery. Surely no one will be out for a little while longer.

Thomas was just about to turn away towards the bakery when she grabbed his hand and began walking with him.

Raising an eyebrow and looking over at Bonny, she didn't seem fazed by her actions, only a small smile on her face as she bounced a bit in her step.

Thomas shrugged and got on with walking.

The two found themselves in a peaceful silence again, finding that they didn't have to talk to enjoy each other's company. It was a good arrangement for both of them.

This was good and this was nice.

And that's all they needed in that moment.

——

All it took was stepping into the bakery for memories to overcome the both of them.

While Dorothy wandered off to the Kitchen to take a few pence, Thomas inhaled deeply, smelling the rich scent of bread and sugary sweets.

His hand now feeling cold that Bonny had let it go.

And there it was again, the humming. The beautiful humming that she absentmindedly did whenever she was concentrating.

Thomas recognised the tune but couldn't place the memory.

Strolling back over to him, she instead linked her arm with his as they walked towards the Garrison. This time, she was chatting his ear off, but he didn't mind - her voice was soft and silky, she didn't have to hum tunes for her to put him at peace.

It seemed as though time had flown by when Thomas noticed them creeping upon the doors to the Garrison. Unwinding his arm from hers, he opened the door for her.

She grinned at him and walked through, sending a cheery smile to Grace, who was the only one behind the bar.

'Oh yeah. Grace.' Thomas had found himself forgetting about her these last few weeks.

In fact, he hadn't seen or thought about her at all since the night the guns were found.

Since the night he'd met Bonny.

Before Thomas walked through the door of The Garrison, he heard the sweet voice of Bonny, "Oh hello there! I was wondering if you could help me with something!"

Thomas shook his head. Always polite as always it should seem.

Walking into the Garrison finally, he spotted Bonny leaning over the bar gushing to Grace about the dress she was wearing.

Grace looked startled by the woman in front of her, slightly taken a back by the way she walked in and immediately announced that she loved Graces winter dress.

She didn't immediately notice Thomas walk in, finding herself comfortable around the girl who so insistently asked the fabric of which her dress was made.

Dorothy had that sort of way about her where she could make a room warm just by walking in, she made everyone in the room comfortable and relaxed. Everyone wanted to get a look at her.

When Grace finally noticed Tommy, as did the rest of the pub. The place went still and silent, feeling colder than before. He made the room stiff and antsy. His presence demanding that everyone looked at him.

Grace's attention turned away from the sweet lady in front of her. Grace didn't get the chance to ask for his order as she was interrupted by the girl whose attention had also drifted.

"There you are, Bubs, I almost thought you abandoned me for a second!"

Thomas only chuckled at the woman in front of him, the two of them looked to be in their own world together. Unaware of the stares of Grace and the other attendees in the Pub.

Grace cleared her throat, trying to get Thomas' attention.

She hadn't seen him in weeks, thinking she was making progress in her efforts, only to find out he had been galavanting around with this woman she had never seen before.

Dorothy looked back at Grace, smiling sheepishly for forgetting her presence,

"Look Bubs!" She gestured towards Grace, "isn't her dress gorgeous?"

Every other party in the room had been rendered speechless.

Who was this girl?

Did she just call him Bubs?

Did she just talk to him like that?

Did he let her?

But Thomas didn't care. He didn't even acknowledge Graces dress, only staring fondly at the girl in front of him who huffed at his lack of response.

Grace was blushing furiously at the forward-ness of the girl and her approach to the Shelby man.

The atmosphere changed again as the silence filled the room. Everyone's eyes on Thomas, gaging his reaction to the blunt command that was certainly not ok to ask a Shelby.

Thomas only smirked a small smile, not tearing his eyes off the woman he'd become to be rather fond of,

"yes, Bonny, it's lovely."

——

ANOTHER ONE FINISHED. Yayyyyyy!

Thanks for the love.

Feedback and comments are wanted.

See ya next time!

[dukereviewsxtra]

Duke Reviews Xtra: Cinderella (Remake)

Hello, I'm Andrew Leduc And Welcome To Duke Reviews Xtra Where We Continue Our Look At The Movies Of Disney...

And Yesterday I Looked At The 3rd Cinderella Sequel, Cinderella 3: A Twist In Time So, Today Is A Day I've Been Dreading Ever Since I Started Looking At Cinderella, Let's Look At The Remake...

No Synopsis Today, Let's Just Dive Into (Sighs) Cinderella...

With The Fairy Godmother (Played By Helena Bonham Carter) Narrating, Our Story Starts With Ella, Living With Her Wealthy Parents In A Beautiful Estate In A Peaceful Kingdom...

From A Young Age, Ella Is Taught By Her Mother (Played By Agent Carter) To Believe In The Existence Of Magic, Allowing Her To Befriend Many Of The Animals On The Estate But In Particular The Mice...

Yes, Everything Is Perfect In Ella's Life Until Her Mother Contracts (Name Fatal Illness Here). On Her Deathbed, She Makes Cinderella Promise That She Will Always Have Courage And Be Kind To Other People...

Which Leads To The First Problem I Have With The Film, They Overplay The Message A Little Too Much...

It's Like They Want To Hammer Into Your Head By Saying It A Million Times Or In This Case, Seven Times Throughout The Damn Movie And It Just Gets To The Point Where You Want To Say...

Years Later, When Ella Is A Teenager (Now Played By Lilly James) Her Father Marries Lady Tremaine (Played By Cate Blanchett) Who's The Widow Of An Old Acquaintance Who Has 2 Daughters Named Drizella And Anastasia...

But When The Father Is Getting Ready To Leave On Another Business Trip, He Admits To Ella That He Likes Ella's Mother More Than He Likes Tremaine As Tremaine Overhears Their Conversation...

After The Father Leaves, Tremaine Takes Advantage Of Ella's Hospitality By Persuading Her To Give Up Her Room To Drizella And Anastasia And Making The Attic Her New Room Temporarily...

While The Other Ones Are Painted. We Get A Sing, Sweet Nightingale Reference As Cinderella Helps The Workers Around The House Before One Night, Ella Finds Out That He Father Has Died On One Of His Trips From A Friend Of The Family...

Dismissing The Servants Shortly After Ella's Father's Death, Ella Does All The Work Around The House And Is Relegated To Nothing More Than A Servant As She Is Subjected To Cruel Mistreatment By Tremaine And The Stepsisters...

To The Point That She Is Forbidden To Eat With Them And Is Spitefully Renamed Cinderella After Waking With Soot On Her Face After Sleeping In Front Of The Fireplace...

Which Leads Next Problem With The Remake, Her Breakdown Here...

After Being Not Allowed To Eat With Her Stepmother And Stepsisters, Cinderella Breaks Down In The Kitchen, And It Is Understandable, She Has A Reason To Be Hurt...

But The Only Problem Is When She Has The Breakdown Here, It Takes Away The Impact Of Her Breakdown Later When The Stepsisters Tear Her Dress Apart Or In This Movie's Case, Slightly Rip It...

Anyway, Going On A Ride In The Woods To Get Away From Her Evil Stepsiblings, Ella Encounters A Hunting Party Where She Meets One Of The Hunters Who Claims To Be An Apprentice Named Kit (Played By Richard Madden)...

Who Lives In The Palace. But Unbeknownst To Cinderella, He Is Actually The Prince Of The Kingdom And Despite Never Learning Her Name, He Becomes Infatuated By Ella After Talking With Her...

Returning To The Palace Afterwards, Kit Discovers That His Father, The King (Played By The Master) Is Going To Die And Regenerate Into John Simms Soon...

So, He Insists That Kit Finds A Bride At The Upcoming Ball But Despite The Law Saying That The Prince Must Marry A Princess, Kit Can't Get Over Ella And Gets His Father To Invite Every Eligible Maiden In The Land To The Ball...

With The Ball Announced, The Tremaines Are Ecstatic At The Possibility Of Being Married To Royalty But Refusing To Buy Ella A Dress, Ella Fixes Up An Old Dress Of Her Mom's With The Help Of The Mice...

But On The Night Of The Ball, Ella Tries To Join Her Stepfamily But Claiming That Being Seen With Her Would Only Disgrace Them, They Tear The Dress Up (Or As I Said Slightly Rip It) And Leave Without Her..

Seemingly Breaking Down Into Tears Again, Cinderella Encounters An Old Beggar Woman Who Asks For Some Water, Getting It For Her, The Old Beggar Reveals To Ella That She's Her Fairy Godmother...

Which Leads To My Next Complaint That Whole Scene....

In The Original, As Cinderella Was Crying The Fairy Godmother Just Appeared And Comforted Her Like A Grandparent Would....

Where Here, Ella Is Put To A Test First To See If She's A Good Person When The Fairy Godmother Oughta Know That She Is A Good Person And Just Help Her

Turning Her Old Beggar Look Into The Look Of A Fairy Godmother (I Guess) She Turns A Pumpkin Into A Carriage, 4 Mice Into Horses, 2 Lizards Into Footmen And A Goose Into A Coachmen Before Turning Cinderella's Tattered Dress Into A Gorgeous Blue Gown With Glass Slippers...

Which Leads Me To My Next Complaint, Why Aren't The Songs In This?

Now I Understand Not Having The Mice's Song And So This Is Love From The Film In This Movie And I'll Live With The Reference To Sing Sweet Nightingale That They Had Earlier But Why Did You Not Have Bibbidy Bobbity Boo In This Scene?

You Have Helena Bonham Carter Singing The Song In The Soundtrack...

So Why Not Use It In The Film During That Scene?

The Same Goes For A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes Which You Had Lilly James Singing In The Soundtrack Too?

You Could Have Had Her Singing That In The Attic Instead Of That Song From So Dear To My Heart When She Was Locked In The Attic...

And It Would Have Made It A Better Scene Than What It Was...

Idiots!

So, Getting In The Carriage, The Fairy Godmother Warns Her That The Spell Only Lasts Till Midnight Before Sending Her On Her Way...

Arriving At The Ball, The Entire Court Is Entranced By Ella Including Kit, Who Gives Her The First Dance Of The Night As He Reveals Who He Is To Her...

This Irritates The Grand Duke (Played By Erik Selvig) Who Has Secretly Promised Kit To A Spanish Princess Which Lady Tremaine Overhears...

This Leads To My Next Complaint, Making The Grand Duke A Bad Guy!...

What...The...Hell...

The Grand Duke Was Fine The Way He Was In The Original Movie, There Was No Need To Make Him Another Bad Guy When Lady Tremaine And The Stepsisters Are Enough For This Movie

Come On!

After Dancing With The Prince, Ella And Him Look Around The Palace And The Grounds Where They Slowly Fall In Love But Before He Can Learn Her Name It Strikes Midnight And Ella Is Forced To Flee Where She Accidentally Drops One Of Her Slippers On The Stairs As She Rides Off...

Getting Away Before The Final Stroke, She Hides The Other Slipper In Her Room While Back At The Palace, The King Gives His Blessing For His Son To Find And Marry The Girl He Fell In Love With...

Making An Announcement That The Prince Will Marry The Mystery Girl If She Only Present Herself, Ella Races Home To Get The Slipper Only To Discover That It's In The Hands Of Lady Tremaine Who Has Figured Out Her Identity Through Ella's Attitude After The Ball...

This Leads Her To Blackmail Ella, Telling Her That When She Is Queen, Tremaine Will Be Made Head Of The Royal Household And Drizella And Anastasia Will Be Given Proper Husbands...

Refusing Tremaine's Threat, Saying That She Regrets Not Protecting Her Father From Her But She Will Protect Both The Prince And The Kingdom From Her Evil No Matter What She Does To Her, So, Smashing The Slipper, Tremaine Locks Cinderella In Her Room...

Taking The Shoe To The Grand Duke, Tremaine Reveals The Name Of The Mystery Girl To Him As She Makes A Deal With Him That In Exchange For Her Silence, She Would Get The Title Of Countess And And Drizella And Anastasia Would Be Given Worthy Husbands...

Taking The Broken Slipper To Kit In An Effort To Discourage Him, It Instead Makes Him More Determined To Find His True Love As He Orders Them To Take The Slipper They Have And Try It On Every Maiden In The Kingdom...

Amusing His Highness, The Grand Duke And Captain Of The Guard Lead A Garrison To Try The Slipper On All The Girls In The Land. Eventually Arriving At The Tremaine House, They Try The Slipper On Anastasia And Drizella But Of Course It Doesn't Fit Them...

Turning To Leave, They Soon Stop When They Hear Ella Singing Through A Window The Mice Opened While She's Dancing Like An Idiot...

Which Leads Me To My Last Problem With The Film, Cinderella Herself...

People Like This Cinderella For Being A So Called Smart And Independent Character, But Unlike The Original This One Is A Dummy For 2 Reasons...

The First Reason Comes From This Scene, When She Was Locked In Her Room In The Original, She Cried, She Screamed And Like A Regular Person Would But Here She Just Gives Up And Dances Like A Dummy As She Sings That Song I Mentioned From So Dear To My Heart...

And Like I Said If It Was A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes I Might Feel Different But Since It's Not, It's Just Dumb

And The Second Reason Is Her Reasoning For Staying With The Tremaines...

In The Original Movie, After Her Father Died When She Was A Child, Tremaine Manipulated Her Her Entire Life By Making Her Feel Guilty And Serve Her Family To The Point That She Doesn't Know Much About The Outside World And Could Never Really Leave The House...

Where In This, She Could Have Left Anytime She Wanted But She Promised Her Dad That She Would Look After Their House Which Makes No Sense Later When She Leaves Anyway At The Very End Of The Movie...

We're Obviously Going To Like The Cinderella That's More Human And Relatable To Us And I'm Sorry But That's The Original...

The Grand Duke Tries To Leave Anyway, But He Is Shocked To Discover That One Of The Men Is Kit In Disguise Who Demands That The Captain Thoroughly Investigate The Sound...

Of Course, Once Ella Is Found Tremaine Forbids Her From Trying On The Shoe But Telling Her That She Has Never Been Her Mother, Her And Kit Are Reunited And She Tries On The Slipper To Which She Fits...

With The Stepsisters Asking For Her Forgiveness, She Forgives Tremaine As She Leaves (Despite Promising Her Father That She Would Look After The House) And To Live Happily Ever After With Kit While Tremaine And The Stepsisters Soon Depart The Kingdom With The Grand Duke...

And That's Cinderella And Despite People Saying That This Is The Best of The Disney Remakes It's Honestly The Worst Until Mulan Comes Out...

While You All Know My Reasons For Hating This Movie, The Story Was Interesting At Times And I Do Like What They Did With The Prince And Tremaine And If There Was One Good Thing I Did Like About The Cinderella Character It Was Her Ball Gown...

But I'm Sorry The Negatives Just Outweigh The Positives Of This Movie So For That I Say Skip It And Just Watch The Frozen Short That Played Before The Movie Because You'll Get More Entertainment Out Of That Than Of This Movie...

Next Week Is Wonderland Week As I Look At Not Only Disney's Original Animated Version On Duke Reviews Movies But The Tim Burton Film, The Burton Less Sequel And 1 Other Version Of The Tale Done By Irwin Allen In 1985....

Anyway, Till Then, This Is Duke, Signing Off...

[journal-of-an-outlaw]

Price to be Paid - Chapter 25

AO3 link here

You were absolutely frozen. 

Of course, of all the trolleys in Saint Denis and all the people to sit next to, you had chosen the spot next to Mary Linton. She looked perfectly pressed in a gown much more suited to her than the one you picked for yourself of a teal blue that made her eyes shine, and hair pinned with such accuracy you knew you could never replicate it. It burned your insides to see she was just as lovely as you had imagined even if you had secretly hoped she was ugly and cruel. 

Mary watched you with her hand out and you realized how utterly rude you had been. 

“YN! YN Moore, pleasure to meet you.” 

Part of you had expected her to recoil at your name, scream and start to cry at the strange coincidence you had sat next to her. But instead she smiled widely and let her hands settle politely in her lap as the trolley bounced along the street. 

So Arthur hadn’t mentioned you after all. 

“Do you come often into Saint Denis?” You asked hesitantly.

Mary shook her head, watching the buildings pass on by. “No, just came to chase down my father. It’s embarrassing, really, but I asked someone for their help and I feel like I’ve taken advantage of what we used to have.” 

She had the indecency to look beautiful as a blush worked its way up her cheeks. 

“I’m sure they were just trying to help, because of the circumstances.” 

You hoped the answer would change the subject as you were in no mood to discuss Arthur with a semi stranger. It felt wrong to know who she was and have her remain in the dark. The imbalance of it all made your stomach upset. 

“Well, I knew they would come, and that’s the problem.” She shook her head and looked away from you. “If you ask someone for a favor but you know they are honorbound to say yes, is it really a request or does it become a demand? I, it’s not easy to be a single woman, it’s powerless, and I needed someone with power. Most folks I associate with at home are, well, you know, shallow and wouldn't help someone out unless it benefited them in some way.”

Mary looked a bit desperate as she spoke as if she was looking for your approval. You weren’t in the mood to give it willingly but you would listen, and maybe begin to understand. 

“Depends on what you have with this person, I would guess.”

“I’m sorry,” she played with her skirt ruffles while she spoke. “I don’t mean to speak so openly, you’re kind to listen. This person and I used to be engaged. Part of me still wishes we could go back and change the past, ignore my father and just follow our hearts. But every time I play it out it never would have worked; I couldn’t live the way he did, my family would have disowned me, and I would have isolated myself from every possible avenue of a life resembling what I had always known. I was young and naive to think that things would just fall into place, but being around him makes me think maybe, just maybe, we could take on the world together. I know that isn’t the case, I don’t love him like I used to, but it’s the intoxication of being swept up in that fantasy.”

“I used to be engaged, when I was young as well. There’s something about a first love that never really leaves you, even when you know it isn’t right anymore It’s...hard to move on and accept that life turned out the way it did, but sometimes the best choices for us aren’t the easiest.”

Mary watched you with a focused look while you talked about Henry. It wasn’t the same situation, of course with Henry dying suddenly, but things were starting to make a little more sense as to why Arthur and Mary were drawn to one another. It wasn’t true love, or any kind of love at all but more the echos from when they were younger. They had a bond, and as much as you didn’t like it, it wasn’t something that would just go away and if you were to take Arthur into your life, you would have to accept it. 

“It looks like you made a good choice now! There’s a beautiful ring on your finger.” 

“Yes, and he is good and I love him.” You beamed down at your hand, knowing what you had to do. “Miss Linton I’m afraid I haven’t been completely honest with you. I didn’t know you before except by name, and I truly am sorry for barging next to you on the trolley like this. I know you met up with Arthur Morgan earlier, and I have to tell you he’s the one I’m engaged too.”

The trolley bell made a loud clang as the two of you sat in silence. Mary looked out to the street of Saint Denis as you passed a park with families strolling by. You thought she wiped a tear from her eye but couldn’t tell as she refused to look back at you for a moment. 

“Miss Linton, I’m sorry to spring this on you -”

“No. Don’t be.” Mary finally faced you, a smile on her face. “I...you know I was talking about Arthur, then. I am sorry to have dragged you both into my affairs, I never meant to, I just didn’t have anywhere else to turn and in truth took advantage of what we used to have.”

“It’s actually alright, Miss Linton. You are not a bad person, just a person stuck in a bad situation. I started out today in a foul mood but after getting to know you I strangely feel better.” You laughed at the absurdity of what just came out of your mouth. Mary Linton had been a hateful, deceitful hag in your mind until you sat down on that trolley and you hadn’t realized just how happy you would have been to keep on living that lie. 

“If it makes you feel better, he really does love you.” 

You looked over at her surprised. That had never been a doubt in your mind but something in her tone made you think he had proved it to Mary somehow. 

“I, oh lord, forgive me, I asked him to run away with me just before I got on the trolley. I don’t know what came over me, I just blurted it out like an imbecile.” Mary was quiet and as you listened you felt your temper rising, but forced it down in an effort to maintain some decorum. “He of course said no, that that part of our lives was over and he had someone who loved him flaws and all, not despite of them. And that must you.” 

“He saved me, in more ways than one. And it’s not always easy. There’s a lot of outside factors but at the end of the day he’s a good man, just…”

“Like he’s wrestling with a giant,” she finishes your sentences softly. 

The trolley drove by a street corner where someone yelled about a cause they were supporting, asking those walking by to donate anything they could. The sun filtered through the trees and cast odd shaped shadows on the cobblestones that had been worn down by each passing thing whether it was a horse or a street car. What a strange city, you thought, so full of life and color and heartbreak. Things hadn’t turned out like you thought they would but from what you had learned, that was usually okay.

“I think we’re more alike than we could ever guess, Miss Linton. Which probably says more about Arthur than it does the two of us.” Mary gave a startled laugh, hiding behind one hand as the trolley slowed to a halt. The conductor announced this was the end of the line and that after five minutes it would head the other way. Mary stood and asked how to get to the train station as you filtered out with the crowd. 

Charles wasn’t at the stop so you waited for Mary to exit and join you on the sidewalk. She smiled and quickly fixed a strand of hair that had loosened from her bun, enjoying the feeling of the afternoon sun. With no escort she seemed nervous, so you offered to walk her over to the train station. 

“I will tell you, if you had told me that all of this would happen today I wouldn't have believed you in a million years!” She seemed giddy walking down the street. 

“Miss Linton…”

“Mary, please.” 

“Mary,” you tried again with a smile. “I still feel awful, like I deceived you somehow. Please know that was never my intention.”

Just as she opened her mouth to respond someone called out your name, a low, gravely voice you instantly recognized. There was a small crowd behind you but Arthur and Charles sat high on their horses, a strange look on both of their faces. Arthur climbed down and threw the reins to Charles before approaching with hesitation. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake Arthur it’s alright, I won’t bite.” Mary said flatly. You were sure he was panicking inside at seeing the two of you together. 

“YN, I didn’t know you were in the city.” 

“Charles didn’t mention it?” Arthur shook his head. “That’s alright. I came after you, but we ran into someone and I then found Miss Li-, Mary on the trolley. We actually had a lovely conversation and were walking to the train station to see her off.” 

Arthur stood frozen, like if he moved the illusion would break. It was funny, really, but you didn’t laugh as you let him process whatever was racing through his mind. You were sure seeing his old and current betrothed together was a strange and terrible sight. 

“Arthur, should we…?” You motioned to the station and he snapped back from his momentary lapse. He cleared his throat and walked up next to the two of you, unsure of whether to offer his arm or walk in silence. 

The rest of the walk only took a few minutes and it passed by in comfortable conversation between Mary and yourself. She told you about her home and her brother who she was quite proud of, and how he was looking into going for schooling after something Arthur had convinced him of. Your fiance snorted, causing both you and Mary to give him a dirty look, and he mumbled something about how it would be good for Jaime to get out in the world and be stable. 

A strange pang shocked your heart at their casual intimacy and chatter about Mary’s brother. It was something you didn’t share with Arthur as any questions about your family had been deflected and you hoped he wouldn't bring it up. You realized now that was foolish, and one day he simply wouldn't take a distraction as an answer. The unfortunate bond to your parents would need to be brought to light soon as your father kept reminding you by popping up at every turn. 

The train whistled loudly, steam pouring onto the station platform and signalling it was ready to leave. Mary thanked you both and stepped up to the car, but paused halfway up and turned back. 

She took your hands in her and gave a soft squeeze. “I genuinely wish the both of you every happiness in the world. I, it’s nice to know Arthur has someone like you looking out for him.” 

“Mary, if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to write. It’s not easy to get by on your own, you do have support if you need it.” Arthur smiled and tipped his hat as the train let out another blast. Mary waved and stood frozen safely on the stop step as the train pulled out from the station. 

You and Arthur watched as the train faded into nothing more than a blip on the horizon. 

“That was...how did you even…”

Arthur stuttered at your side trying to comprehend what happened. You smiled up at him. 

“I came after you to apologize. I was wrong Arthur, very wrong, and never should have tried to stop you from helping Mary. Charles came with me into the city and we tried to find you, but he spotted some Pinkertons and we had to escape. He took the horses and I jumped on the trolley next to a very surprised Mary Linton. We actually got along very well, she told me about how you helped her and it just solidified my thought that you are one of the best men I’ve ever met.” 

Arthur blushed at your words and looked around. Spotting no one, he swept you up into a brief hug, resting his head in the crook of your neck and squeezing. 

“Truth be told I only did it because I thought it’s what you would have done. Helping people out...that’s your thing. Being kind, y’know.” 

You laughed and linked your arm through Arthur’s. All feuds forgotten, you strolled back through the city to find Charles. He told you about chasing Mary’s father all over Saint Denis; the meeting at the stables, chasing down the loan shark, and after all that Mary’s father still escaped their grasps. You laughed and gasped dramatically as Arthur retold everything, feeling like he wanted you in on the secret of him and Mary’s relationship, whatever it may be. It was a good feeling, being accepted and wanted. After he finished you told him about Brother Dorkins and how Charles saved two poor souls who were being held captive. 

“Oh, I met him. The Brother, he was with Charles I guess after you got on the trolley. Walked them back to their church and made sure they weren’t followed.”

So Charles had diverted Arthur from running into your father. What a nightmare that would have been, but the thought of Agent Milton moving about somewhere in the same city brought your fears back and you suddenly wanted to be out of Saint Denis more than anything. Your eyes scanned everyone who passed by for the possibility of him running into you and what that would mean. You hadn’t spoken about your parents in nearly a year and the topic still made your stomach turn. 

What would Arthur think when he found out?

Charles whistled from across the street. You and Arthur crossed to meet him and leave as soon as possible. Arthur asked if everything was alright as you took off through the streets, trying to put as much distance between you and Agent Milton as possible. Your only response was a smile as words were not able to form for you at the moment. 

“You’re back! And just in time, too. We need to prepare for a ball, Cinderella.” 

Dutch greeted the three of you at camp with the strange sentence and you cast a confused look at Arthur. Hadn’t you just been to a dance in Rhodes?

Arthur grunted. “Dutch, you know I hate dressing up…”

Dutch laughed and approached the two of you. Swinging his arm around Arthur’s shoulder to steer him over towards Hosea you heard him say, “Just think of it as a practice for your wedding. Now, what we have here is a change to get on the good side of Angelo Bronte at a party the Mayor is throwing.”

You chuckled watching Arthur’s panicked face throw you a glance for help but you just waved him off and started brushing Eclipse. Her hair was dirty from the smog of Saint Denis and she made appreciative sounds as it slowly became clearer and clearer. Kieran hadn’t brushed her in the past few days so she was overdue. The other horses nearby looked dirty too, like Kieran hadn’t been keeping up with his duties. 

The next week moved at the same pace set by the heat lingering around Shady Belle; heavy and unrelenting in its molasses slow pace. You helped cut more vegetables, wash more clothes, and sort more herbs than you cared to remember and more than once you and Karen snapped at each other purely for something to do. She may not always get along with you, but as someone who worked hard for the gang she respected you and you felt the same towards her. 

Days started to feel repetitive. While it was wonderful to have a routine and sleep under a roof, not everyone agreed that you deserved it after such a short time with the group. Micah certainly made it known that he should be in your and Arthur’s room, not you, but someone usually told him to quiet down if he got too rowdy. 

One day, Dutch’s plan finally came into fruition. 

“Gentleman! Tonight is the night we set off, hair brushed and oiled, shoes shined, and dressed to the nines so we can charm the pants of this god forsaken shit hole called Saint Denis.” He waited while people laughed at his show, then continued on. “Hosea, myself, Bill, and…” his eyes crossed the gang. “Mary Beth will be off to the mayor's house.” 

It was not lost on you how quickly Dutch’s eyes flitted past you. 

Mary Beth balked. “Me? You need some pick pocketing done?” 

“No, nothing like that. We just need a woman who can move about precisely in high society is all.” 

A disgusted noise came from Molly as she threw a rag down and stalked back into the house. Dutch just huffed and turned back to the younger woman. 

But Mary Beth was still confused. “I ain’t like the others, you could take YN or Abigail and dress them up. Why me?”

Micah annoyingly stepped forward to answer. At his first step Mary Beth crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “Because, Miss Gaskil, you’re beautiful, and young, and good enough to distract people into thinking they have a false sense of security when in reality we’re robbing them blind.”

“But I thought you said -”

“Enough.” Dutch had his spotlight stolen and was incredibly frustrated by how the events had gone. It was his story to tell why was no one listening?

“Mary Beth. We ain’t robbing. It’s just a dinner party and we figured a pretty young girl like you should experience the finer things in life. YN went to that ball back in Rhodes and Abigail we thought wouldn’t want to leave young Jack so soon. Plus, with John not there, things could get out of hand.” 

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up to the top of his hairline. Clearly this was something he hadn’t discussed with Dutch and you know they all watched poor Abigail flail about feeling stuck in her position. 

The look on Dutch’s face said the decision was final. You were strangely okay with this as you had no desire to dress up and preen about the high society of the men who kidnapped Abigail’s son. But Arthur clearly wasn’t. 

“Dutch, if I’m going so is YN. That’s final.” 

Dutch sighed, looking exhausted. “My boy, if that happens then I’ll have to -”

“It’s happening. We can find a second carriage.”

“Fine.” You watched the scene, frozen. Not wanting to push any boundaries you opened your mouth to speak but Dutch silenced you with a look and you waited for him to continue. “We are guests of Angelo Bronte and will clean up before heading out. That means you all bathe, yes, even you Bil, and for god’s sake wear a suit. We will meet after supper and head in together, as Arthur so eloquently said, in two wagons.”

A flush worked its way up your chest and face. “I don’t want to make trouble, Dutch.”

“What’s done is done. We will all head in and be on our best behaviour and make this worth our while! Be ready by seven.”

Arthur balked at the older man and joined you near Pearson’s wagon. “Never seen him like that. Wonder why he put up a fight about bringing you along.”

“Well, he was right. Mary Beth is beautiful and charming and...younger.” You wrap your arms around your middle, suddenly self conscious. Arthur laughed softly at your expression, which earned him a dark glare. 

“You ain’t old, darlin’, you’re younger than me and even so there’s nothing wrong with it. Dutch has been strange lately, that performance included.” He looped your arm through his and walked over to the house. “Let’s go into town, take the day to get ready for that party tonight, hmm?” 

You nodded and allowed him to drag you away. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Molly dart out of sight as you as Arthur approached and a pang of guilt hit your chest. 

As soon as your bag was packed for the day you closed the door to your room and promised Arthur you would be down shortly. Something was drawing you over to the small sitting room next to Dutch and Molly’s room. It was a quiet afternoon and the sun filtered in through the wooden blinds casting beams of light to dance around the room. 

“Hosea?” The older man grunted as he looked up. “I think Molly should go tonight instead of Mary Beth. I know she’s not...I think it would clear the air, make things a bit better between her and Dutch, which in turn means better for us. You know she would charm the pants right off of those society men and get a chance to flex her uses.” 

Hosea blinked in response. He seemed to ponder your words for a moment, scratching his chin while his eyebrows pulled together. From somewhere downstairs Arthur called for you, so you told Hosea to consider your idea and waved goodbye. 

The ride into town was uneventful. Your mind was racing with thoughts of a real bath and nice clothes to be focused on the dusty road below you. Arthur was talking to you about something, but suddenly the thought of being in town reminded you that just a week ago your father had been there and almost caught you. If there was a chance he would find you or Arthur, things would turn bad very quickly. 

"...and Hosea told me once about mixing flowers and herbs together to make poultices, like for medical purposes, and how Bessy taught him."

You took the pause in his speech as a chance to reply noncommittally with a nod. 

Arthur saw right through that. 

"He also said that if you bathe in the waters of Saint Denis that your skin would turn as green as grass." 

You looked around the bridge entrance with a sharp eye. "Uh huh, wow, he's so smart." 

"And eating yellow daisies under a full moon will let you turn into one of them, but for a day." 

"Hmm, wait what did you say?" You turned to find Arthur stifling a laugh by looking away from you but it wasn't working. 

"Something on your mind you want to talk about, sweetheart?" His voice was low as he asked. 

“I’m just,” you sighed dramatically, “worried is all. Did Charles tell you about the Pinkertons we saw?” 

Arthur nodded. “Met that Brother Dorkins character, too. Not sure what to make of him. Seems nice enough, genuine, but all those religious types do, right? That’s how they get you.” 

You laughed and chastised Arthur for mocking the man and in turn he told you he was only joking. Brother Dorkins was a good man; he put helping others above all else in his life and truly committed to the selfless way that he had been taught. You felt good about how you and Charles had helped him the other day and were glad Arthur had been able to spend time talking to him. 

Once the horses were tied up out front you headed into the tailor shop together. Arthur was quickly ushered over to the men's side and you followed a young woman to look at dresses. 

It was all breathtaking. The glamor of what life could be like stared you down in the reflection wearing a low cut deep red dress. It whispered about high heeled boots and soft, elegant gloves that would accompany you on a night out to see a show. It sighed in your ears to the sound of string lacing up your back and the tug of the corset that restricted your movement. The sweet symphony swelled with the swish of the dressing room curtains and you took center stage, ready to present the illusion to Arthur. 

He spit out the sip of water he had just accepted from the shopkeeper. 

Quickly the man jumped into action to clean up the spill and you simply arched an eyebrow. The woman next to you knew she had done good work from the reaction and you smiled at her like you shared a secret. The burgundy material clung to your chest and hips, billowing out behind you like a cloud. It was large and overdone, but even you could see through the poshness of it and admire the way you looked like a dream. No one could stand in your way with this dress, not even Arthur and his dapper looking tuxedo. In which he looked stunning as well. 

“See something you like, Mr. Morgan?” You rested a hand on your hip as you sauntered over, enjoying the way his eyes ran up and down you languidly. 

He ran a hand over his eyes to hide the obscenities that flew from his mouth. “Only you could make that dress look like that, I’m not so sure I want to buy it for you.”

“Why not!” You pouted, sticking your lip out. 

You could see him restrain himself as he took your hand gently and turned you around. He pretended to fix something on the back of your dress and suddenly you were very aware that both of the workers were watching you. 

“If anyone so much as thinks about you looking like that I’d put a bullet between his eyes before you could stop me.”

After you both changed back to your street clothes and paid, you decided to walk to the hotel to bathe as it wasn’t as far as you had thought. Arthur let you hold onto his arm and point out things you liked along the way, like the small birds singing in the air and the way the horses hooves echoed streets away from the trolley car. It was vibrant and new and you loved it, oblivious to the way Arthur never took his eyes off of you. 

The clerk at the hotel was bored and barely paid any attention to the two of you as you paid for baths. At the last second Arthur purchased a room for the night for you two to stay in after the dinner, and you almost missed the wicked glint in his eye. 

You moaned louder than you should have as you sank down into the beautifully hot water. Any aches you had before were gone in that weightless space and you watched the dirt from days and days simply scrub away. You had been trying to clean yourself every few days at least but living in the swamps made it difficult. Between the bugs and the sweat and the need to bring someone with you in case an alligator had its eyes on you, the actual bathing amount was questionable. Laying in the bubbly bliss was pure heaven. 

A soft knock at the door was followed by a voice asking if you wanted extra assistance but you declined. The bar of soap was easy enough to manage and you plunged your head below the water to begin attacking your hair. 

You eventually left the small paradise you had found and dried off, impressed with the result of one simple bath. It was something you would need to indulge in more regularly. 

Arthur beamed at you as you entered the small room and motioned to the bed where he had laid out your dress. It was approaching time to leave for the mayor’s and you had too many buttons and laces to be able to dress yourself. Arthur kissed your neck as he helped you dress and looked at you again like a wolf stalking its prey. It made your stomach flip and flutter as you thought about what the night held in store. 

Dutch greeted the two of you with a harumph as you entered the carriage outside. He chomped down on one end of a cigar and looked sour until Arthur found a glass of champagne. Dutch was dressed to the nines in a beautiful black suit and matching top hat. Someone, you guessed Hosea, had stuck a white flower into his lapel and he leaned back in his element. It didn’t take long for Dutch and Arthur to be howling with laughter at thoughts of the old days and how ridiculous it was to be headed to a mayor’s ball, of all things. You sat squished across from Bill who avoided your gaze and opted to stare out the window, throwing back the glass of champagne Dutch handed him instead of savoring it like you were. 

You asked Dutch if he wanted you to lift anything as there was likely to be good value in such a high society. 

“Oh, no, no, no, no! No pickpocketing. We are here to make some real contacts. We have to find what we can at this party where the guest of honor is the worst crook in town!” It wasn’t long until he and Arthur and Bill were howling with laughter at this again and you watched on amusedly. 

The men cheersed their drinks just as the carriage arrived outside of the manor gates and came to a slow stop. Someone opened the door and you exited first, excited to be around new people. Arthur held his arm for you to walk you down inside but stopped in his tracks and stared as another carriage pulled up behind yours. 

“My god, she actually came…” you whispered. 

For as wonderful as you looked in the dress from the tailor, you had nothing on Molly O’Shea. She stepped forth a queen in a stunning green jeweled dress dotted with accents of gold and black and red and perfectly matching jewelry. Her hair and makeup were flawless as well and made you wish you had brought at least a lipstick with you. 

Her Irish accent was silky and slow as she took in her companions. “Evening, fellas. And Miss Moore, that’s a stunning dress you have there.” 

You held Arthur’s arm, frozen as well, and watched as she and Dutch took their place in front of you. Hosea walked next, a smirk and a wink thrown your way as if to say he had finally come around and listened to your suggestion. 

Bill huffed. “Well. This night just got a whole lot more interesting.”

The walkway was lined with white canvas tents stretched high above you and twinkling lights across the lawn. The house was a stunning two story building with Roman columns and a balcony that seemed to stretch around the entirety of the second floor. It was beautiful and matched the bold taste of those in the higher class of Saint Denis. 

“Luca here will take you to Mr. Bronte.” A man at the front door accepted Dutch’s paper invitation and invited the crowd in, eyeing the number of people that entered in a way that let you know you were pushing the limits. 

Luca was a smaller man, an inch or two below even you. He walked with a strut that made up for it as he guided the group into the foyay and spoke about the extensive history the house held as a jewel and a staple of Saint Denis. He lost you somewhere after you passed the chandelier, the sparkling beauty nearly stopping you in your tracks. Luca led you past the double staircase and multiple servants. 

‘Hosea, Bill, YN, you three join the party. Signore Bronte does not want a crowd I am sure. We will meet you down here shortly and meet you out back after we pay our respects.” Molly clung to Dutch’s arm a little tighter, learning she was of importance to meet the guest of honor. Arthur simply rolled his eyes at you and you smiled back, not bothered by the slight.

Bill whistled as you stepped back out into the night air. “This sure is a pretty place. Like the...lights and such.” 

Hosea told him to go find drinks while the two of you stood at the top of the stone staircase, a good spot for observing the party. 

“Hosea, I’m flattered to even be here. I know Dutch seemed against it at first. He’s bee strange lately, have you noticed?” 

The older man paused before thinking, mulling over the words running through his mind. “You look lovely tonight YN. Sure picked a dress that could bring a man to his knees.”

“It’s not too much?” You fretted. 

“Not at all, my dear. And as far as Dutch goes, I’ve noticed something is off as well. Let’s keep that to ourselves however, not everyone would agree with our observations. Might think we were going against him.” Bill held out two drinks for you and headed back into the crowd to play the part of upper society. You clinked your glass gently against Hosea’s and enjoyed the taste of whatever it was you had sipped. 

The garden below you was wide stretching, with trees and fountains and gazebos dotted around the grounds in an elegant arrangement. The same stringed lights from the front of the house were draped all around the backyard as well giving the evening a mood lighting of excitement and dreaminess. 

You still couldn't believe it was all real. A few short months ago you were being held hostage by a savage man, and now you stood at the height of society, drinking and enjoying the view you had from the top. 

It wasn’t long before Dutch, Arthur, and Molly joined you on the balcony. Dutch and Molly looked quite pleased with themselves, talking about how enchanted Bronte was with Molly and her beauty. Arthur seemed hesitant and motioned for you to come stand by him as soon as Dutch was done retelling the riveting tale of working with the man of the hour. 

“I think we should get outta here. These people, they ain’t like us. They’re liars, and awful tricksters who do terrible things for a laugh.” Arthur shook his head, pointing out some people in the crowd who Bronte had mocked. 

 “Native Americans? What do they need from the mayor?” You mused out loud. 

“Alright, go ingratiate ourselves. And remember,” Dutch gave you a pointed look, “steal nothing. Unless it's information. Find the mayor and stay outta trouble.” 

Arthur gave your arm a tug and together you headed into the crowd. You knew finding the mayor was the target, but to be honest you were mostly interested in meeting the Native Americans who were somewhere out in the gardens. 

You and Arthur waltzed around to see what you could find, but most of the people were simple folk looking for idle conversation. It took an hour to make your way around in a lap and at the end you felt none the wiser. Sure, the caricature of Saint Denis was more vibrant and colorful after speaking to more of its residents but you knew that would be enough information to sustain Dutch. 

A conversation behind you grabbed your attention and you turned so Arthur could face them men and join in. 

“It ain’t complex, Lemieux. And only an idiot like you would try to make it so.” 

The small group of men stood near the fountain seeming to poke fun at the Frenchman. “I will not deny idiocy, sir, but perhaps now is not the time. You are drunk, Ferdinand.”

“I’m not drunk, you fool!” The loud man laughed and rocked backwards, grabbing the man next to him in order to remain standing. “But this man! This man loves darkies.”

You blanched at the slur and Arthur took this queue to grab the man’s shoulders, turning him away from the group. It didn’t take him long to lead him away before anyone could get too upset. You pretended to fan your face with your hand and draw the attention of the men back to you instead of watching the scene behind them. 

“Your husband, madam?” 

You blushed. “Betrothed. A good man, Arthur. My name is YN.”

Arthur rejoined the group and shook hands with the other men. “Thank you, sir. Henri Lemieux, I hope you are enjoying my party. Do you know Evelyn Miller?”

The name sounded familiar as Arthur’s face lit up. “My lord. The writer?” 

“Well,” the man chuckled good heartedly. “We seem to have another deranged drunkard in our midsts.” 

Behind Mr. Miller a loud boom echoed through the streets of the city. You winced and looked away from the bright lights exploding in the sky, unsure of what to think. Arthur placed his hand on your back and whispered that they were fireworks and you watched in awe. Flashes of light were met with oohs and ahhs from the crowd so you figured you must be safe, even if the air reeked of gunpowder.

A man in a white servants uniform pushed through the group towards the mayor, pulling him to the side once he had his attention. A sharp whisper brought the words ‘Cornwall’, ‘fool for trusting him’, and ‘sign it’ carried across the air and you locked eyes with Arthur. This was a lead, something he should look into. 

Dutch seemed to appear out of thin air. “He say something about Cornwall? Find out what.” 

Arthur placed a chaste kiss to your cheek and slunk off into the crowd and off into the dark. You stood alone until Molly joined your side. 

“Miss O’Shea, that gown is...breathtaking.” Molly smiled, a rare motion for her. 

“I’m glad tonight worked out. Hosea told me it was your idea to bring me along instead of Miss Gaskill, and I wanted you to know I’m grateful. Dutch and I...we used to be so close but I’m hoping he sees my worth after tonight. This dress was supposed to be for another type of party with me and Dutch, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

You smiled sadly at her, unsure of what to say. 

“Do you ever miss Ireland?” 

“Constantly,” she answered without hesitation. “It’s a beautiful country, and Dublin is a gem that these cities don’t hold a candle too. I hope you visit one day, see the green for yourself.”

“I’d like that.” Arthur returned to your side with a sly grin thrown at Dutch and a pat of his coat pocket. Dutch tipped his hat and watched the rest of the fireworks show with a wide grin. 

Hosea and Bill find their way over and express their disinterest at staying any longer. On the walk out Hosea whispered to Dutch about a plan he had devised to rob the city bank, something someone at the party had brought to his attention. Dutch countered with a plan to rob the trolley station that Bronte had mentioned to him and Arthur. The gang seemed to just need one big score before they could be free, whatever Dutch meant by that. 

Lenny drove up with the first carriage and you saw his eyes nearly fall out of his head at the sight of you. One look at Arthur snapped his neck forwards without daring another glance, but you laughed at the exchange and felt good about how the night had gone. Dutch, Bill, Molly, and Hosea climbed inside as you and Arthur remained on the sidewalk. He clapped the side of the wagon without a word and Lenny took off, a curt nod cast somewhere in your general direction. 

“Well, Mr. Morgan, what should we do now?”

Arthur met your gaze with a low growl and a hungry look on his face. “Girl, you better run back to that hotel room because I know exactly what we are doing tonight.”

You squealed with delight and took off, hiking your skirt up around your knees to let you run. Arthur barked a laugh and chased after you, showing the upper society of Saint Denis that it couldn't tame you no matter how hard it tried.

[neoculturetechxgot7]

Gardenia on the crown - J.J.H

1; arranged weddings

pairing: Jung Jaehyun × Reader

genre: angst

length: around 1k?

warnings: none yet

``

Your hand starts to sweat uncomfortably, caged firmly in your father's grip, as the sight of large ebony gates discourages your racing heart. You don't want to continue any further, don't want to stroll across the so-called 'great ballroom' and face your bitter, black coated destiny that's awaiting on the other side. An almost unbearable weight inside your chest causes every small step to be heavier, the clanking of heels against marble tiles and the shuffling of your skirts echoing mockingly.

Biting down on your tongue to refrain from rolling back into ominous thoughts, you try to give yourself hope by holding onto the one thing keeping you from running outside, to your escort, and riding a horse back to your real home: Duty.

It is your duty to bare the name of your family with pride and righteousness, to ensure that the royal blood pumping through your veins will remain pure and the grace of your ancestors will be passed down to the next generation.

But easier said than done...

Turning to spare a single glance at your father, the man who made you what you are today with undying affection and unconditional love, it's impossible not to gain back the confidence that holds your posture straight. You have to follow his orders and trust his judgement without doubting even a single decision, just as you promised. You owe him this much...

So, inhaling the smell of lavender and rose that swirls around early morning sunrays to adorn the entire palace, you make a silent oath to yourself to fulfill your duty with courage and marry Jung Jaehyun.

The wooden barrier between you and your future husband flies open within moments, accompanied by the screeching voice of a herald announcing your noble presence, right after your father.

"Her Highness, princess..." The rest doesn't make it to catch your attention as it's all gathered to the man ahead of you, sitting on his throne with a gaze sharper than his sword and all the arrogance of a true king written across his shadowed features. Golden rings and red velvet and precious jewels establish his title of dominance and you swallow a lump suffocating your thoat upon laying eyes on him.

He scares you.

But thankfully not enough to tear down your own intimidating facade as you bow in respect after entering the spacious ballroom, golden ruffles of the dress pinched between your fingers. You manage to catch a good glimpse of your surroundings, the walls luxuriously painted with poetic scenery and the glass dome allowing a limitless amount of sun's illuminating kisses to penetrate it.

And then you're met with pure ice that cuts goosebumps under your skin and makes your legs weaken once you rise up, looking eyes with the devil deemed to wreck hell in your life.

The prince.

The paleness of his face is masked with the most stoic expression you've ever seen -and you've met a ton of cocky bastards, truth be told- as he scans your body, taking in the image without the slightest reaction. You feel coldness prickle at your limps, wanting nothing more than to turn around and never see that man again.

Let alone marry him and carry his children.

Sinking deeper in your thoughts, you fail to listen your father prodding you to walk until a wrinkly hand reaches behind your back with a steady press. You haven't taken your attention off of Jaehyun when you're pushed, losing balance and stumbling slightly, a rosy shade appearing on your cheeks at this unwanted clumsiness.

Even so, you stand back straight and chin up, as your mother taught you, and make a graceful walk towards the two royals on the marble riser, but not before noticing the ghost of a smirk momentarily tug on the prince's lips. Then again, it's probably your imagination because his face turns stern and unreadable a moment later.

On the other hand, the king has already risen up and is now exchanging formal greetings with your father, shaking hands and sharing bold smiles.

"It's delightful to finally see you, my Lady." He turns to you, bowing slightly as you mirror the action.

His voice is rougher than sandstone as he continues, so unpleasant to the ear, and you prefer not to talk but simply smile, too overwhelmed to form a single sentence in response. You know he was the one that had offered the chance of this marriage to your father, secretly of course, in hopes of forming the strongest alliance between your two neighbouring kingdoms and it makes some kind of hatred boil in your head.

Still, since your parents chose this path for you, knowing it would ensure the future of your nation, you could never dare complain or speak against their will. It is duty.

"And this is my beloved son, Jaehyun." The king exclaims with an unconcealed hint of pride, a hand patting his son's shoulder.

You stay petrified, unable to breathe or blink as the endless brown ocean of Jaehyun's eyes darkens upon you, as if your form alone twirls blue storms inside them. There is nothing separating you anymore, no distance, no pair of ebony doors and you are fully exposed in front of the man you're bound to be with, suddenly feeling so unsafe.

You search his face for any sign of kindness and find it absolutely blank.

But... truly though, he is mesmerising.

Milky skin brushed with a godly silver shimmer that molds into sunshine, plush petal lips and high cheekbones. His hair are a faded shade of auburn and strawberry blonde, a few strands falling softly to frame his forehead in the most flattering way.

As scary and emotionless as he seems, your future husband is heavenly handsome and maybe, in another universe far from this one, you might have looked at him as more than just a forced fate.

His cough pulls you out of the starstruck state, and you realise that, for the second time in time span of a couple of minutes, he has gotten you distracted. Jaehyun's gaze promptly drops to your palms folded over your stomach and suddenly your manners kick in leading you to extend one towards him.

His fingers find a nest under your own gently as he brings them up politely to leave a searing peck on your knuckles. You are expecting your skin to freeze under the contact but...surprisingly enough, a comforting warmth lingers where his lips graze, as if they leave a little fire behind, sending shivers down your spine.

"It's my pleasure, my Lady." He speaks with a voice of silk and honey, low yet so soft, a strong contrast to his image and the sweet lie dripping from his tongue. Jaehyun finds, quite obviously, no pleasure in seeing you.

"The pleasure it's all mine, your Highness." You reply with another quick dip of your knees.

He peels his eyes off of you with ease, unlike yourself who's having trouble not staring even though his presence brings you a feeling of vulnerability. Jaehyun faces his father, waiting for the next stage of this awkward acquaintance.

"Well then, I'm sure you're intrigued to explore the rest of our palace,"

'Hell, I'm not.' you're intrigued to say but nod instead, as it's nowhere near your place to talk back to a king.

"so let's head to the gardens first. I was informed our little princess has a big heart for nature." His pretentious tone annoys you to no end.

"And who may have told you that?" Those are the first sugary words escaping your mouth, even though they mean nothing since the answer is standing right by your side.

Your darling dad, of course. He and the king held a frequent trade of letters, as any two future allies would, so he probably let it slip that you like flowers.

Only that, you like -or better say adore- the flowers your mother has grown with thoughtfulness and care to decorate your own palace and their scent had seeped into your blood ever since you were a child. The pity excuse of plants you're about to visit can never compare to those beauties back home, they coan never replace them. You're sure of it.

The king gestures behind you and lead the way with a hasty pace, both you and your father simultaneously turning around to follow.

And then you feel Jaehyun's glare poke a hole through your back before wide steps bring him right next to you, his suffocating aura drowning you in a wave of dizziness.

Jung Jaehyun is your duty and he will ruin your life.