#shes a little princess and shes also full of mischief

[madebysimblr]

Sorella: Show off.

Alex: [laughs] Just because I'm not falling over, doesn't mean I'm showing off.

Sorella: Suppose you weren't doing backflips like he was.

Alex: Very true. He is a massive show off.

Cesar: Next time we're going somewhere with a beach.

Simon: Agreed. And without Envy.

Envy: Alright, I concede. Relaxing would be good.

Sorella: She finally gets with the program.

Takuya: Well everyone is more than welcome to come back to my place. Plenty of space, plus a hot tub. Bring swimsuits. Or not.

[Envy giggles]

Takuya: Shoes are fine inside, I don't care. If you want to shower use the bathroom upstairs. Don't look through any drawers unless you really want to get to know me. Oh and this is Puff. Fuck with her and I'll kick your ass.

Sorella: [excited noises] Oh my god, hello little darling! We're gonna be best friends aren't we??

Alex: That's the fastest I've ever seen her warm up to someone.

Sorella: Cats just know when you're a friend!

[hattiewritesalot]

Gevives (Beauty)

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

Summary: Jacaerys, ever the hard worker, is late to bed. Again. Luckily for him, you’re very forgiving.

Warnings: Reader and Jace have a daughter, one or two mentions of stress and overload, Jace being babygirl. Literally just fluff tbh

A/N: how’s it going lads im a little bit (very) in love with this pouty princess. I also wrote this at midnight for my sister so enjoy

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

A soft sigh escapes you as the wooden chair creaks against the stone floor, rocking back and forth, lulling you and your sweet daughter as she snores, slumped against your chest.

She’s as loud as the day she was born, kicking and screaming as she was lowered into your arms for the first time, and now, thank the gods, she screams less. She has, however, taken after her father with her snoring, noisy enough to rumble Dragonstone itself. You’re not surprised - not entirely, at least. Little Rhaenyra has been a daddy’s girl since the moment Jace held her, since the moment her chubby fingers curled around his one, and he weeped into her downy head. It baffles you that that was so long ago - you can see the image as clear as day.

Speaking of your most beloved husband, he’s still not here. His tendency to overwork himself is shining through, and he’s all but locked himself in his study to sort through his papers and meetings and arrangements and everything boring that you sometimes have the urge to burn so maybe, just maybe, he’ll come to bed on time.

‘Perks of being the eldest son, my darling wife.’ He’d once grinned, amber eyes glinting in the sunlight with that twinkle of mischief you love so much. He’d kissed you, then, and slipped away to occupy himself with his duties.

You can’t be mad at him, not really, not when your heart is brimming with the love and devotion you have for your Jace. Not when you’re carding your fingers through your toddler’s dark curls as she dreams. It doesn’t stop you from being frustrated though. You hate it when he burns himself out like this, knowing all too well the way he crumbles when the day is done. You’ll always be there, though, to pick up the shards and put him back together again, knowing he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat.

The door creaks open, and then it closes with a squeal of the hinges, and quiet footsteps patter behind you, Jace’s face peering around the rocking chair. He winces. “You’re awake?”

You cock a brow, shooting him a look. “Yes, I’m awake. And so are you.”

He sighs, then, pressing those full lips to your forehead and cradling your face, his free hand reaching down to stroke Rhaenyra’s hair. “I’m sorry, my wife. Everything is so… overwhelming right now. Some days I want to rip Aegon’s hair out, and some days I want to rip my own out.” 

“Please don’t. I quite like your pretty curls.”

“As you tell me so often, gevives.” Gevives. Beauty. Gods, this man has a chokehold on your heart.

“Perhaps I will find it in myself to forgive you.” You finally push up off your chair, cracking your back, groaning. “Remind me not to sit in that chair for too long.”

“I do remind you. You don’t listen.”

“You’re on thin ice, Velaryon.” 

You lower Rhaenyra into her cot, rocking it and shushing her gently when she squeaks. Jace’s hands curl around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “Our little princess.” He mumbles. “She’s perfect. Is she really ours?”

“Given that she snores like a bear and pouts all day, I’d say she is.”

He snorts. “I do not pout.” 

“He said, pouting.”

“You’re mean.” He turns you around, now, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You love it when he’s this close, when you can count every freckle, every streak of gold and brown in his eyes, every curl. You smile at him. “You love it.”

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head, as if every word he speaks ails him. “Yes, yes I do. Gods save me from my cruel wife and her cruel ways.”

You scoff, but laughter bursts through it, pushing his shoulder and walking to the bed. “Fine. I guess you won’t be sleeping next to your cruel wife, then?” 

He’s scrambling out of his day clothes and under the covers before you can even fathom it, pulling you into his arms. He has the blood of the dragon, and runs hot when he sleeps. It’s nice on colder nights like this one, where you could bury yourself in his arms and never leave. His deft fingers trail up and down your spine, lips pressed against your hairline.

He calls you the beauty, but it is only because you are so infatuated with the man next to you. Every part of him; the sweet, gentlemanly parts, and the bitter, ugly parts; holds a dear place in the organ beating beneath your breast. Jacaerys Velaryon isn’t just your husband - he’s your best friend, your soul-mate (as the poets may say), and every time his fingers intertwine with yours, you like to think that your very beings intertwine too. You and Jace will find each other wherever you need to, for you know he is never far when he loves you so.

He sighs, nestling into your hair, and you gently kiss his jaw. “Promise me something, husband?”

He hums in response.

“Promise me you’ll take a break tomorrow?”

It takes him a long moment, but eventually, he swallows, nodding, body sagging against yours. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“Hush, I don’t need to hear it. I love you, alright? Even if you don’t show up to bed on time, even if you sometimes infuriate me with how much you put on yourself.”

He chuckles softly at that, pulling you in closer. “I adore you, my lady.”

You’re half-asleep by now, safe and content within the comfort of your lover’s arms. “Not as much as I adore you.”

You could have this argument for years, endless bickering of ‘I love you more’s, but you don’t. Not now, at least.

Now, you hold each other, falling asleep within the solidarity of your love.

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

I actually like this sort of a tiny bit

[tender-rosiey]

aww nanami’s daughter who’s very possessive of her mama is so cute she definitely got it from her dad need more of her

sneaky lovey — nanami kento x f!reader

your daughter was kind of mischievous. you don’t know where did she get it from, but you have a feeling that it’s from her uncle gojo whom she has spent a lot of her weekends with.

it’s cute really, especially when she seems to be driving her dad crazy with her little pranks. after all of that, he still loves her, of course, but he hopes that she would understand that his stress levels don’t need to be any higher.

he also hopes that she learns how to share, especially share your attention and affection.

nanami is a mature man, so he can’t help but let her hog you all to herself whenever she goes, “daddy! I want mommy! that’s enough time for you.”

and who is he to deny her your love?

but in the end, he still is a man who is so very in love you and naturally craves your attention as well.

that leads to you guys to trying to sneak a few kisses here and there along with a bunch of hugs like a couple of teenagers in love.

you find it funny.

the way that your husband awaits any moment that your daughter isn’t there to press a kiss to your lips and have his arms around you.

he looks like a baby that had his toy taken away for way too long and it is so cute. you don’t mind voicing that out and you laugh softly when he sighs about how he just wants time with you.

on the other hand, he doesn’t find it funny.

one moment, he is kissing you and the other you’re being dragged by your daughter to draw with her.

she can not for the life of her let her dad get a second with his beautiful wife.

another example is when one day, you had sent her to her uncle gojo cause she had missed him.

nanami was low-key over the moon and refused to leave your side, leaving kisses on your hand, cheek, and forehead whenever given the chance.

“kento, you’re pretty affectionate today.”

“mm, just missed you, love.”

it was utter bliss, especially when you guys got to cuddling and reading a book together.

and don’t get him wrong, he loves his daughter very much, but he also loves you and it was finally his y/n time.

he enjoyed while it lasted which wasn’t enough to him but like nanami you spent at least 9 hours together what.

the little miss stole you for herself the moment she came home.

she also invited you both for tea in her little toy house, but had nanami put on make up, a crown, and a skirt and go drink tea alone in a corner.

when he asked her why, she just went, “you’re supposed to be the pretty maid so wait until you get ‘i am becoming a princess’ arc.”

the arc never came.

another thing is that nanami finds it bizarre that you wonder where the hell did her mischief come from.

there is no way that it isn’t innate and it is obvious when he looks at both of you, particularly right now.

these smirks and puffed out chests of pride and your shared giggles are full-proof. you had just done a harmless prank on your poor husband and he just stared at you both, unable to form a response to this bullying anymore.

“(d/n), i need to talk to mommy about something so that okay?”

“oh okay! good luck, mommy!”

oh that traitor. probably learned it from uncle gojo.

“y/n.”

“yes, my dear and handsome husband?” you say in hopes in flattering him.

he gets up and stands right in front of you. he looks at you, “what was so funny about putting a gojo-patterned tie in my closet?”

you nearly bend over laughing when you recall what you did, but you compose yourself.

your husband isn’t pleased.

“you will have to repay me for that,” he says and you pout.

“how exactly will I do that, my lovely kento?”

he takes a hold of your hand and takes you to the bedroom with a smile, “an uninterrupted night with me.”

you chuckle and ask, “cuddles and kisses?”

“and more if you want; I am all yours.”

in the end, nanami feels and knows that he will never want you guys to stop how you fill his life with colors and laughter.

“haha! dad, I drew on your face!”

or maybe he wishes it would be toned down a bit.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or i will bite you

[tossawary]

In "The Princess Bride", Westley is (forgive this phrasing, I mean it relatively fondly) "a petty bitch of a man", but I can kind of see where he's coming from giving Buttercup a hard time at the beginning. It's a very human thing to have a temper.

He went off to seek his fortune and was attacked by pirates, which I assume was a bloody and unpleasant experience. He had to beg for his life and spent a long time as their captive, threatened with death every single day, even if it later turned into a less serious morbid joke. Life on the crew of the most famous pirate in the world was presumably pretty harsh at times and he worked his ass off training himself up to be worth feeding and keeping alive, then to be able to hold his own in this new life. Piracy is hardly a very safe profession.

For all we know, Westley did attempt to send letters home, but he probably had to work hard to scrounge up the money for it and find someone semi-legitimate willing to carry it, and this is hardly an era of reliable mail. He probably had to just hope that Buttercup 1) wouldn't hear the news of his first ship's destruction and/or 2) would trust in his love for her enough to know that he was alive and fighting to come back.

When Westley finally becomes the Dread Pirate Roberts, he's still stuck with the former Dread Pirate Roberts for a little while, and then he has a pirate crew who have expectations of him. He cannot sail the damn ship himself. It probably took a lot of work, threats and persuasion and the slow building of trust, in order to get a ship full of men to eventually take him back to Florin. Like, would he even have told them about Buttercup? (It would be funny if there's a crew of pirates out there cheering Westley on in True Love.) Would he have had to promise them some reward?

He also went out in the world to make his fortune and he already knows that he's dreadfully late, so maybe his position is, "Okay, I will build up trust with my crew by building up our fortunes, WHILE slowly but surely moving back across the world in the direction of Florin so that I can see the love of my life again. This hellish experience traveling all over the damn world will all have been worth it for her."

It's possible that Westley was mostly having silly pirate adventures worthy of a comedic operetta, but based on the tragedies of Inigo and Fezzik's own backstories, this world is not actually that nice. Westley is being flippant and lighthearted when he later summarizes things for Buttercup, but he does seem to be one to make light of / ignore his personal suffering. I do think that he did probably make some friendships through this hardship and had some good experiences along the way, especially near the end, but I also think that the beginning of his journey must have been really shit.

So, Westley fights hard to get back home, then lands somewhere in Florin and is on his way back to the farm, but then finds out from some random villagers (or Buttercup's parents) that his shitty former prince is marrying an incomparably beautiful milkmaid named Buttercup. Like...? The love of his life didn't wait for him (she thought he was dead and is also being forced into this, so that Humperdink can murder her to start a war, Buttercup did nothing wrong) and traded up for some SHITHEAD PRINCE??? That has to HURT. (And Westley does not like admitting to feeling pain!)

Even if he loves mischief and drama, Westley is being an unnecessarily huge jerk when he kidnaps Buttercup away from her kidnapping, but also yeah, I see how his temper might be running hot. He's struggling with the fact that his True Love might have moved on after he's probably been using her memory as a thin rope of sanity for years.

[schoenht]

↳ dust of the stars in their eyes

character: lilia vanrouge

synopsis: cinderella au (the musical version)

a/n: TO MY BELOVEDEST @linabirb I HAVE FINISHED PART ONE OF YOUR LATE BDAY PRESENT </3 ILY LOTS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY !!! I'LL BE WRITING PART TWO VERY SOON I'VE BEEN SUPER EXCITED TO WRITE THIS SINCE I'VE BEEN OVER THERE

No one truly understood the woes of being the prince with pressures of becoming the next king. All the kingly duties and having to uphold the kingly stature when Lilia Vanrouge only wanted to slide across halls in his socks with his advisors, who joined a lot of the time. The loss of himself when he thought too much about who he was. On the surface, he was the prince, but deep down? He couldn't fathom understanding himself past the fun times that he granted himself. Slaying dragons, sliding across the halls, that was what created a life supposedly worth living for him.

Today, however, did not follow the usual exciting schedule.

Kalim walked in with a scroll in his hand. "Your Majesticness, we have to fulfill your father's wishes!"

Lilia smiled, an elfish grin that made him look so innocent when it was not-so-secretly full of mischief. "Which wish? The one where you and Cater dangle me from the ceiling as we pretend to be thieves taking the crown?"

The white haired male knew exactly what he was talking about. Their plans were jubilant, if not occasionally lethal at times. But Lilia seemed to always get back up after falling from several feet high. After all, he was a fae and fae were known for their antics. Kalim shook his head, unfurling a ridiculously long scroll that only said a few words in bright green ink and outrageously enormous letters. "Lilia, get married NOW."

What a bunch of poppycock, Lilia thought. His father had always been protective of him since he was young, and somehow, he had also been trying to set him up with several princesses. The princess he used to be betrothed to when he was a small fae had escaped when she was just 10, deciding to be raised by nuns. He was stunned to find out that when he was born, he was already engaged for some sort of power. Afterwards, his father believed he could court someone on his own.

He could not.

Kalim scrambled to pick the long scroll up and made it into a pile as he glanced at the prince. "My lord? You must find someone."

The prince knew it was time. "What do you suggest?"

"I have an idea~!" The singsong voice of his other advisor came through the halls as he took a singular selfie of himself and made his phone disappear into his pocket. Lord Cater, who was somehow the wisest one amongst the three of them when it came to a situation such as this one, had one of those signature Cater beams, the ones that could relax anyone because he had a plan.

Curious, Lilia slightly leaned forward. "What is your idea?"

"We host a ball! And if you meet the person you like there, we did it, you can get married!"

"That seems a bit unorthodox--"

Cater didn't want to hear it and refused to. "Just think about it, Your Gracefulness, a romantic night sky, candles...maybe even some flames."

"Flames?"

"Of love, of course! Not pyrotechnics." Cater glanced at Kalim, shaking his head. "That means no fireworks, Kalim."

"Awww."

Lilia tilted his head a little. Perhaps it was a good idea to receive guests into his castle, to see who could potentially be the next person at his side to hold a crown on their head. It did not have to be something so overly dramatic as Cater was implying, yet Lilia liked to have that dramatic flair. And a ball was as dramatic one can get. Not to mention, it would slowly quell the murmurs of an uprising advocated by the impoverished individuals in his kingdom. He would feed them and ensure that they got a pleasant night. And so, he agreed.

With his permission, Cater was sent to the kingdom to make an announcement. The day was blistering hot, and yet the town was bustling. He could see people hurrying to get the best purchases in the market; children laughing as they kicked a bright green ball around on the gray cobblestones; couples occasionally stopping at the old and unstable fountain in the middle of the square to share the toss of a coin, hushed wishes made about their relationship lasting until the finality of time; vendors shouting at the top of their lungs their best offers on their wares, hoping to outdo their fellow sellers and perhaps obtain a bit more money this time around.

A flash of excitement came over him and he slowly rose on a barrel full of old clothes, according to the label. The bell in his hand commanded for attention from the people and sure enough, the eyes of the public were on him. "The prince is giving a ball! The prince is giving a ball! Hear ye, hear ye, a ball and that's not all! His Royal Highness, Lilia Vanrouge, is giving a ball!"

The repetition of his words quickly got the attention of several individuals, murmuring and as if Cater was a magnet, they were drawn to him to listen further. "He's giving a ball?" "Impossible, the prince has never given a ball in his lifetime." "Oh, shut it, I want to hear!" "I can't see!"

The ginger grinned, knowing he had the attention of more people and as a crowd formed, he knew he had one shot at this. For Lilia and above all, for his paycheck. And his friendship with Lilia, of course. Clearing his throat, he spoke with regality as he brought out shiny, crisp cream envelopes with the famous wax seal on it. Everyone knew it was the royal seal. "His Royal Highness, Lilia Vanrouge, has this decree: To attend the ball, all one requires is an invitation and suitably fashionable attire, and the prince will choose someone from the ball to be his future partner. That means anyone can be the next royal."

In the crowd, swallowed up by other excited people, you listened with intent, eyes filled with a wistfulness to be able to join such a celebration with high stakes. Living in your position was not easy and perhaps, with luck, you could be the one chosen for the place at Prince Lilia's side. Your thoughts been filled with wishes and wants that had replaced your previous ones. Now there was one that was at the center of it all: you wished you were one of the lucky people with an invitation to the ball.

The crowd dispersed and it left you alone in the square as the vendors packed up to go home after a long day of work. You sat on the fountain, careful not to sit in the one crack that made it more unstable, daydreaming about what it would be like to be in the royal palace. You sigh softly as you talk out loud, dreaming up scenarios of what would happen. But you know it wouldn't and your voice trails off.

Out of nowhere comes the old man that listens to you speak all the time, speaking his gibberish. "All the wishes in the world are poppycock and twaddle!"

"Oh, Crazy Sam, are you mocking me with your gibberish?"

"Yes. All the dreamers in the world are dizzy in the noodle!" The man grinned, his magenta eyes hiding a secret as he listens to your wish about wanting to see the prince in person, to talk to him about what life in his kingdom was really like. With a hum, he teases, "And then to have him fall in love with you?"

You shake your head. No. You didn't want that for you, you wanted the prince to realize that his kingdom was a place that needed to be fixed as efficiently as possible. "Why did you come to visit me?"

"I just knew I would find in the same fountain, in the same part, on the cliff of a foolish dream."

For once, Crazy Sam wasn't crazy. He was right and you agreed begrudgingly. "Maybe I am being foolish."

"Then be foolish with me. What would you dream of?" His smile was reminiscent to that of someone who was the messenger for a surprise party. When he heard your dream of getting an invitation to the ball, he pulled out a cream colored envelope. It was a bit ripped from being run over in the stampede of the crowd as they left. "Here. There's an invitation. It isn't perfect, just go. What else would you dream of?"

Your heart lifted in hope as you spoke about silks and such for your outfit that you so desired for. But then you got realistic. "How would I get to the ball?"

He smiled. "See that pumpkin over there? I'll turn it into a golden carriage."

"And horses?"

"Those mice in that cage." He nodded at the mice trapped in a cage, almost a metaphor for your life was. "And a fox as a footman and a raccoon as a driver."

You could almost burst out laughing. This was so ridiculous and improbable. "In order to do that, you'd have to be a fairy godmother. Or godfather."

Crazy Sam raised an eyebrow and suddenly it felt as if the energy shifted between you both. In the same way a magical girl transformation would happen, it seemed like Sam glowed for a second and he changed from an old man with a hunched back to a man with a top hat that could stand up straight and dance. He had a cane in his hand, markings all around him and eyes that no longer hid their mischief and whimsy. Sam had hidden this secret from you all along. He laughed, doing a small turn. "Much better, don't you think?"

Your jaw was on the floor. You had just seen one of your only friends go from an old person into what seemed to be a magical being. "Sam! Are you...really my fairy godfother?"

Sam kept a beam on his face. "But of course! Actually, I'm everyone's fairy godfather, but you're the only one who has treated me with kindness and generosity. Now, I must make all the dreams we talked about come true."

"But that's so improbable, implausible! You could even say that it's impossible!"

With a regal huff, Sam shook his head, spinning his cane in his hand as he led you away from the town square into the edge of the woods. "Impossible? For a pumpkin to become a carriage? Four white mice becoming horses! Ha! The world is full of fools, who believe too much in their strict, invulnerable rules. Impossible things keep happening every day."

Truly, your eyes were deceiving you. You stared at Sam, thinking that he was out of his mind completely. "That's out of the question!"

"Is it?"

You nodded your head, your hands moving in front of you as if trying to emphasize your point. "Unattainable."

"Hmm, do you believe that?"

"Unimaginable..."

"Unimaginable..." Sam grinned as he parroted what you said.

You sputtered, "But you were just a beggar man a couple of moments ago and now you're my fairy godfather? Does that mean that anything is obtainable?"

"Of course." The man listened to you as you spoke, elated at the fact that maybe, just maybe, he could fix everything. He could fix all that caused you troubles. "No, but you can. You can make it all happen."

"I couldn't!" At your words, Sam mocked you a bit, "I couldn't, it's all so impossible--No, it isn't. Look at me, look at your invitation. I'll even give you proof."

His cane glowed as transformations began, suitable for that of a princess. The silliness of earlier became a reality as your dreams seemed to be closer and closer in your grasp. The pumpkin became a gorgeous white carriage, made out of a material that seemed to be made out of porcelain. It was ornate, decorated with gold linings and shining jewels on the swirling wheels. Under the sunset, it shimmered in the dazzling lotus pinks and poppy oranges of the sky.

Next were the raccoon and fox. They turned into grown men, with no idea as to how they could only walk on their hind feet and had fingers with actual human skin. They slowly stumbled to their positions by the carriage as commanded by the person who made them into something else. Another tap of the floor by Sam's cane and out popped the mice into horses, snuffling at the floor.

Finally, he turned to you. He caused you to float and spin and soon, you were transformed into the most gorgeous attire that you could ever even think of wearing. A gasp fell from your lips. "It's the most beautiful outfit I've ever seen in the land!"

He smiled not unkindly. "I will have to warn you, however, this spell only lasts until midnight. By that time, everything will go back to its normal state of being and so will you. Now go, go with the promise of possibility!"

With your heart beating faster and faster at the prospect of going to the ball that seemed as though any laws abiding by the fabric of the universe could now be ripped to shreds, your carriage raced through the night. The world seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for you to finally step out and complete the puzzle of the idyllic night that was to come. Perhaps it was the joy of the moment that made you forget the midnight rule for now. After all, the plush fabric beneath you was more luxurious than any material belonging to your household. It was a dream that one would never wish to wake up from.

Arriving at the palace, it seemed as though you had stepped into another universe entirely. The palace was looming over you with its bright white ivory walls, shiny glass windows that prohibited a speck of dust to even land on it, perfectly polished doors with guards in armor, checking every guest for invitations as they walked in. Your carriage pulled itself aside, allowing you to step down from it. As the last person to arrive, it would be quite difficult to not notice you.

And that is exactly what happened to Lilia when he merely glimpsed at you, only to do a double take. In all his years of living, he had never seen a star up close, and yet here you were, dazzling without even attempting. It was a bit cute to him to see that you were standoffish, perhaps a bit shy. He made a choice to introduce himself as he walked over, bowing. "Good evening. I am Prince Lilia. How do you do?"

You couldn't believe your ears. The prince himself had walked over to you, even though you were late and completely alone. You also bowed as you introduced yourself to him. You studied him for a second and you saw that for a prince, he did not appear like one. Black hair with pink highlights in an asymmetrical haircut with tiny wisps on the sides of his head, reminding you of bat wings. Those red eyes full of roguery and the smile that showed who he was beyond being a prince.

"May I have this dance?" Lilia asked as a new soft ballad was being played in the background.

Taking his extended hand, you began to dance with him. It was awkward at first since you were not a professional in ballroom dancing and it was not something that was taught to you in your household. Waltzing through the ballroom quietly, but it was somehow a comfortable silence as you swayed back and forth with him. He didn't mind when you stepped on his shoes at all, he was fond of your inexperience. Oh, the thrill of possibly finding someone that he would adore, that made him refuse to come down to Earth again.

The waltz transformed into something slightly more upbeat, involving everyone. You did not know any of this synchronized dancing, only following through the motions. It was certainly overwhelming. Lilia saw that and he swiftly weaved through the other dancers to get to you, taking you away from everyone else. You may be in the center, but no one else would lay a hand on you as long as the prince decided that he would dance with you and you alone. The melody began to slow down slightly and began once again.

Time seemed to move slowly with him before you were matching the pace of the upbeat melody. It was quickening with every note until it reached its crescendo and suddenly it felt like you were floating. You were floating when you looked down at the floor. Lilia winked a bit. "I decided to switch it up this time instead of me floating."

He twirled with you around the room, everyone else enjoying their similar dances with their own partners as the music blared loudly from the area where the musicians remained. It began to quiet down before rising up again in its notes. As Lilia stared at you, he only thought that angels had to be real, for they lived in your eyes. He shook his head, getting that out of his head and smiling once more at you. "I would love to continue dancing with you, if you'd allow it."

"Oh, I would love to--"

Suddenly, everything snapped to reality as you took a brief look at the massive clock behind him. With a gasp, you realized it was late. You needed to go. "I am so sorry, but I have to go."

His surprise made you land on the floor as you ran through the crowd, a good amount of them a bit outraged and peeved at this inconvenience. "Wait! Please!"

You didn't listen. You made it up the stairs, breathing heavily and then moved to run downstairs. Your shoe fell from you but you ignored it. It was 3 minutes to midnight. If you didn't race out of there, everyone would find out who you were, especially your stepmother. It would not be a pretty sight to see.

As you hurried and pushed past Lilia's cries for you to stop in your tracks, the footman opened the door instantly and when you dove in, the carriage was off. What once seemed like a smooth ride on the way to the castle only seemed like a bumpy, hectic ride back home.

Meanwhile, Lilia was at the top of the stairs, watching you go. "How will I find you?!"

Then, there was the answer: the shoe.

He stared down at it and back up at the sky. The stars seemed to dim without you serving as their foreground.

The prince moved inside to his office, where Kalim and Cater were. "We need to find this person, immediately!"

They looked at each other before Cater spoke up, "Sir, that is a shoe."

"It will guide me to them!"

Kalim tilted his head but believed it. "Okay. Well, we can hold a banquet next!"

Lilia's eyes went wide. "Yes. Yes! That is what we will do tomorrow night. I will find them as soon as possible and we will do what my father said so that he can stop spinning in his grave. I am positive he has burrowed his way halfway to the inner core of the planet."

With a plan in mind, he knew what he would have to do next. He wouldn't stop until he found a satisfying ending. And it helped that Kalim and Cater were most definitely encouraging his delusions of grandeur, even if they were not delusions to him. They would become a reality.

[thebadboyfanclub]

It Is Time (Daemon x Reader)

This is probably the softest imagine I have written and it was so much fun. I was listening to line without a hook so you get the vibe I was going for.

To be married into the Targaryen was considered a chance of a lifetime for most, however a marriage with the princess of the Summer Islands was a miracle, when (y/n)s father send the raven of her being open to wedlock Jahaerys was the first to respond, offering Daemon as a suitable husband, to align such foreign force was a must for the Targaryens, Daemon at first had retaliated, denying to part take in a loveless marriage with a woman he had never seen to just be a pawn of the king.

That quickly changed when (y/n) visited kings landing, “The diamond of the Summer islands” she was known for her bewitching nature, as she walked next to her father like she owned the place Daemon swallowed thickly at what his eyes were experiencing, it looked like she was a mystical fairy merely flowing instead of using her feet, she was a different type of beauty, a thicker frame with tanned dark skin from the place of endless summer, tall frame and curly hair, her eyes resembled that of a fox, full of mischief and secrets. The daughter of house Truefyre had brought Daemon to his knees with a single glance, once he greeted her and got a hold of her hand he felt shivers down his spine.

“It was the first time I felt like the Gods smiled down at me”

Their wedding was the talk of Westeros, (y/n) and Daemon danced the night away, whispers a of a the union growing strong took over as Daemon was seen tending to his lady wife in every way, shape and form, he was put under a spell that he never wanted to break free from.

“What is it my diamond?”

“I haven’t… bled”

“Oh…. Oh!”

Realisation hit daemon like a stone in the head, Daemon and (y/n) had been every affectionate with one another, Daemon would always have a hand touching (y/n) and there have been rumours of Daemon letting his hand slip in more inappropriate parts, how could he resist? His lady wife was the most perfect creature, his precious diamond that he held close in hopes to protect her forever.

Daemon was not a man of exaggerating declares of happiness, at the news of his wife being with his child he simply smiled and placed a kissed on her forehead before kneeling to be in the same height as her belly.

“I cannot wait to meet you little one”

(Y/n) had wished to reside to the Summer islands, away from duties and pointless dinner with backstabbing lords that would arse kiss in front of her face, her father was gracious enough to offer a castle right next to the sea shore as her wedding gift, Daemon could not deny his love such joy, he also secretly wanted to have a quiet life with his family.

As the morrows came and went (y/n) was changing by the hour, her lady nature kicked in with impeccable strength, compelling the princess to shed tears at the sight of a cat playing with her kittens, her hand was always caressing her growing belly as she sang to the babe while sitting in a swing located in a beautiful orange tree, the breeze passing through her as she rested in the shade and enjoyed the sounds of nature.

“The princess requested for deer meat with… peach jam”

Daemon found himself giving her strange requests to the cooks more than he liked to admit, it was almost a daily ritual for her to wake up in all hours of the night and beg her husband for stuff like plum juice and oysters, strawberry cake and beef meat, he would sometimes think her cravings were the reason of her sickness, although he was smarter than uttering his concern, he would simply nod and go searching for whatever she had asked for.

“I have gotten fat”

“You are with child”

“I am fat with child”

Daemon took in the scene of his wife standing as she watched herself in the mirror, she had gotten bigger as time went on but that was normal for her journey in motherhood. He had been reading a book in his bed when he puffed out a breath and stood up to approach her, (y/n) quickly went to wrap herself with her silk rob yet Daemon stopped her, on her vanity she had an open jar of cream that she would often run her belly with, it soothed her from the itching. Daemon took a small amount and gently went over the stretched skin with care.

“You are a mother, a beautiful woman that is strong enough to carry a child in her with such grace that you make it seem easy, I look at you and I see the world in those dark hues of yours”

“You are going to make me cry”

“I am going to make you happy and when the time comes and our baby is born I will be sure to let them know how infuriatingly gorgeous their mother was when you were carrying them”

“I hope it is a girl”

“I pray that it is healthy, now it is time you rest and no more talking down on your figure, the mother of my child will never be disrespected like that”

Daemon had been (y/n)s shadow, making sure she had everything her heart desires and was happy until she laid next to him with a grin, it was the only way Daemon could drift off, he wouldn’t be able to even sleep for an hour if he wasn’t certain his wife was unwell, especially now that she was risking her life for the birth of their child.

“Daemon, Daemon wake up”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It is time”

“Oh seven hells, I’ll summon the maester”

“No, no, take me to the ocean”

“(Y/n) it is not the time to swim”

“Daemon for the love of everything that is holy, take me to the fucking ocean”

Daemon was smart enough to understand there was no room for him to protest and not to even negotiate about it, he simply took his dear wife gently in his arms as she grunted and moaned and safely let her feel the coldness of the ocean waves. (Y/n) was overcome by a sense of relief from her muscles as the water soothed the ache, washing it away with each wave, her back resting against a rock with her legs spread wide open to give the babe access.

“Now may I call the maester?”

“No, I don’t want them here”

“Why?”

“I want you to be the first one to hold it, not a bunch of people who will let me know the gender before the status of the babes health”

Daemon empathised with his love, wet nurses and maesters were known for not quite caring of anyone’s health, only to deliver the next heir of the Targaryen bloodline.

Daemon nodded mostly to himself before he kneeled so he can take a proper look and guide his wife as much as he could.

“Now I am not trained for this but I’ll do my best”

“It’s alright my sweet, I just need you to hold it when it gets here”

(Y/n) was doing a wonderful job during the entire labour, if Daemon did not know any better he would say (y/n) had gotten through labour a thousand of times, the sound of the ocean calmed her nerves and the cold water seemed to come in to use as beats of sweat appeared on her forehead, she would often ask Daemon to splash her in the face or her chest.

“Here we go my diamond, just a little more”

It had been the wee hours of the morning until the babe was released from her, relief washed over her as her legs could finally spread flat and rest. Daemon caught the babe that was greeted by the ocean first before it was finally secure in their fathers arms, the beautiful little star cried while Daemon cut the cord with his dagger.

“Is the babe alright?”

“The dragon is as strong as her mother”

“Her? A girl?”

“Indeed”

“Give her to me”

Daemon silently complied, passing the fragile little girl in her mothers arms. (Y/n) had never felt more accomplished before, she delivered her daughter right as she wished, with her husband and with the strength of the ocean.

In her land the sea goddess was also the goddess of fertility, frequently plenty of couples would bring their babes to the shore and let the water caress the babes skin as a thank you to the goddess for allowing them to expand their families, to be able to give birth right in the goddesses home was a dream for a plethora of women.

“How about Ariel?”

“An unusual name for a Targaryen, what will your dear family say?”

“I couldn’t give two shits about them, you and our precious Ariel are the beginning and the end for me”

“you have become such a poet my prince”

“How could I not? dear (y/n) you have turned my life to a living fairytale”

“Help me up please”

Daemon allowed his wife to carry the small child while he carried her, the maester along with the servants were waiting for the couples arrival back to the castle, they were aware of how sacred this moment had been for them and watched from the sidelines, praying that everything would go smoothly.

“Behold (y/n) of House Truefyre and our first born, Ariel Targaryen”

(Y/n) only giggled as Daemon puffed out his chest with pride and carried her to their chamber while all the servants beamed with joy.

“I believe we should take the babe for a bath”

“No maester Gerald I will do it”

“As you wish princess”

“My love, you should rest”

“I would rather be Caraxes next meal than allow someone else experience her first milestones instead of us”

Daemon only leaned to peck his wives lips with the utmost adoration, his diamond was meant to become a mother and he felt a certain sense of honour that she chose him to share her future with.

The servants prepared the bath for little Ariel while (y/n) and Daemon kneeled, the babes first sensation was the ocean so Ariel was peaceful as the warm water was gently washing away the salt of the waves.

“She will be a strong dragon rider, like you”

“Or a graceful princess of the summer islands, like you”

(Y/n) leaned closer to her husband as a way to express her emotions to him. It was Daemons turn to smile at her, (y/n) was everything Daemon never thought he deserved in life, sometimes he would think what would his life be if he had not married her, and the result was just grim and cold.

“We should call the wet nurses my sweet, Ariel will need to feed in a while”

“Wet nurses? Daemon this is not kings landing, we feed our babes here”

He would never imagine he could love his wife more, that is until he was part of the moment (y/n) fed Ariel, such a sacred ritual and bond with mother and daughter. (Y/n) laid comfortably in their bed after she had a scorching hot bath with her favourite scented soap which was lily flowers, Daemon had even braided her wet hair so it will be out of her face and make her feel pretty.

(Y/n) hummed a tune to their little princess, light beaming through the windows on this glorious day and their babe healthy and already loved tremendously suckling on its mothers breast, (y/n) could almost feel the women of her bloodline gather around them and bless the babe with their hands on her shoulders, resilient women who suffered through months of pain, swelling, restless nights, broke their hips for the birth, even produced milk for their children to feed, Daemon had been a warrior who had taken plenty of life’s, his wife was a warrior who created a life.

“It is time for you to rest”

“No, I don’t want to take my eyes off of her, I want to watch her breathe”

“Alright, I’ll sit right by you with Ariel as you sleep, I will watch her for you. Do you trust me with that?”

“I suppose”

Daemon did as such, sitting up in their bed holding the princess while (y/n) got comfortable with her pillow, her eyelids were already heavy but she still fought, Daemon rocking the babe without even realising how bright he was smiling at his daughter was such a gorgeous sight to miss, they were not just husband and wife now, nor prince and princess of anything, they were mother and father, parents that would offer their life for their daughter, a bond made by passion and kept by devotion and love.

She drifted off to sleep with the sound of her daughter cooing at her father, praying that her body won’t be in need of countless hours of sleep, since she looked forward to waking up and be fully capable of holding her daughter again.

Requests are open

[solomons-poison]

Unpredictability

Chevalier Michel x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: OK I had to do just a little bit more with the Chev thoughts of having a daughter, connected to my headcanon post here, so just have this little slice of life thing. Papa Chevalier has a very special place in my heart ❤️

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: fem reader, reader is the mother of Chev's daughter and queen of Rhodolite; just some sweet fluff mostly in Chevalier's perspective; Chev is likely OOC for a bit lol; not proofread~

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 2193

Chevalier had a knack for predictions. His perception had always been extraordinary, able to pick up the smallest of clues from his environment and the people around him to know what would happen next. It aided him in his development as a prince, working with his brothers to keep the kingdom running smoothly as his father’s health declined, and it helped him now that he was the king of that same kingdom. He was a monster on the battlefield, strategically taking down enemies with the ease of a beast, and was equally a monster in the courts, always knowing what information was needed where and who to deal with.

When it came to you, however, you were his blind spot.

No amount of strategy and foresight could have prepared him for the way your fates intertwined, or the way you captured his very heart in the palm of your hand. A younger Chevalier would have scoffed at such a notion, that he had the human emotion to even fall in love to begin with when he was most aptly labeled as the "Brutal Beast" by every possible noble in the court. But of course all it took was the wisdom and pure heart of Belle to look deep inside and find the truth. Looking back on the events leading up to the discovery of these feelings, once he met you, he realized it couldn't have gone any other way.

You managed to surprise him at every turn, with your unending love, your wisdom, your thoughtfulness and devotion. That's what made you fit to be his queen, someone that helped him bring out and connect with his human side. The day he married you was something he never could have dreamed of in a hundred years, and even much less so, the tiny babbling bundle you delivered into your lives a year later.

Now he watched as his tiny daughter, three years old and full of toddler mischief, ran through the rose gardens of the palace at alarming speed, eager to see you again after being separated during a diplomatic trip– and she wasn’t the only one that was eager. He could just make out the top of her head, her hair color the exact same as yours and bouncing along as she moved.

That was something he was thankful for, the way his daughter resembled you in so many ways. Her hair color, the shape of her face, even her personality and stubbornness was coming to resemble you too, and he had no doubt the similarities would continue as she grew older. She was also attached to books the same, though honestly he was just as much at fault for that as his queen. However, the one thing that differed was that she had inherited his eyes, a strong clear blue that somehow looked right into your soul.

The little princess was beginning to learn how to use those ice blue eyes to her advantage, much to his amusement. When something didn't go her way, she'd glare at whoever was responsible in no dissimilar way to his own until they cracked from the pressure. It was no end of stress to Sariel or his brothers, realizing there was a little Chev 2.0 in the making. She'd even turned that icy gaze onto him, too, managing to surprise him.

Anyone that looked at her knew immediately whose daughter it was, and something about that sentiment, creating this tiny human so clearly made up of his traits and yours together, warmed him up inside.

Getting lost in his reverie, he quickly lost sight of his small child and hastened his pace. The full bushes made it difficult to keep his eye on her, even with his keen eye and sense of danger, so outside excursions were often accompanied by extra help such as the servants or even Lucien on rare occasion. Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary today as you were the one waiting at the end of their journey through the garden, and the thick foliage made the path clear, leading up to a gazebo.

Just as the image of your face came to mind, he could hear a loud exclamation from up ahead, and turned a corner in time to watch his daughter run into your waiting arms.

“Mama!”

You couldn’t help but grunt from the force with which you were tackled, but your arms wrapped around your daughter as she gripped you tightly.

“Hi, my love! I've missed you,” you said, pulling back to kiss the top of her head. You noticed the missing presence of your husband, glancing around before looking back at your child. “I’m so happy to see you again. Where’s your papa at, can you tell me?”

“Papa is slow,” your daughter mumbled, the excitement of seeing you lost already as she caught sight of the butterflies flitting about from bloom to bloom behind you.

Her wording made you giggle against your better judgment. Your husband could be described as many things, but you were certain the word “slow” was not one of them. But almost as if summoned, his platinum blond head came into view over the bountiful rose bushes, and it was as if all was suddenly right with the world— even if he did have a slight frown on his face.

“Little rabbit, I’ve told you not to run ahead in the gardens,” he sighed, entering the gazebo and patting his daughter’s head roughly. Instantly, her attention turned back to him, two pairs of ocean blue eyes meeting briefly before she looked away.

“‘M sorry, papa, I won’t do it again,” she replied, reaching out to hug his leg, gripping the fabric of his pants with tiny hands. Anyone else that saw this scene would expect the King to be cold and unfeeling in response, but instead he sighed, patting her hair awkwardly without a word.

You watched all this quietly, unable to fight the smile that made its way onto your face. The method of his comforting reminded you much of the early days of your relationship in which he did the same, unsure how to touch you or perhaps even afraid to hurt you. Chevalier may have been called the Brutal Beast for his actions, but he was really more of a beast for the way he was unused to loving human touch.

Over time, he’d eventually grown better and more confident with touching you, a way to express his unending love for you that he couldn’t express with his serious and less-than-romantic words. But it all seemed to revert the moment your daughter was born.

You remembered the very first time he had held her. All his brothers and the palace physician had waited with bated breath, and it was clear in Chevalier’s expression that he had his own reservations about what he was about to do. How could hands used for killing, hands used for exterminating the threats to the kingdom and defending the borders, possibly be suitable for holding that of his small, innocent child? The moment his daughter was placed in his arms, his discomfort was extremely clear –to you, at least– arms frozen stiff in an attempt to be gentle to the tiny creature he'd been entrusted with. But it was this same discomfort and worried reaction that showed you just how much he actually cared about her, and about you, too.

The memory brought a smile to your face, which was met by a strong, familiar poke to the forehead.

“Do not let your head get caught in the clouds, Rabbit,” Chevalier said. His voice was chastising, but the smirk gracing his lips was soft, sweet, making your heart thump.

Chevalier caught sight of one of his brothers out of the corner of his eye, a familiar flop of lilac hair waiting just beyond an ivy-covered arch by the gazebo. It reminded him how, as his daughter grew and came to differentiate his brothers, an unfortunate attachment had grown to a particular somebody. Much to his dismay, his daughter seemed to like her uncle Clavis the most, often shouting his name and using her stubby legs to seek him out when she could, and the feeling was mutual with the resident troublemaker. And Clavis delighted in this fact, often rubbing that in his older brother’s face and using it as an excuse to irritate him at every turn.

But today, Chevalier would use it to his advantage if it meant having you to himself, at least for a little bit. He knelt down to eye level with his child, peering into her familiar ice blue eyes.

“Little rabbit, I want to speak to your mother,” he said. He turned in the direction of his brother, pointing to direct his daughter’s attention in the same direction as well. “Why don’t you go see your uncle Clavis? He’s waiting for you in the gardens.”

His daughter’s eyes widened to a comical size, filled with excitement. Her head whipped around to search, despite Chevalier’s finger pointing the way, but thankfully, Clavis was accompanied by his trusty attendant, Cyran, who popped his head out at the perfect time to catch her attention. His shock of red hair made him look like a human rose, against the background of the gardens.

A shrill shriek filled the air, causing you and Chevalier to wince simultaneously. “Unca Cwavis and Cyan!” Your daughter was still having trouble pronouncing her L’s and R’s, but the men didn't mind. Chevalier watched as his daughter shot forward, “Cyan” quickly bowing to Chevalier in greeting before catching the girl in his arms. As he watched the two leave, he felt an arm slip through his and turned to look at you.

“I’ve missed you too, King Chevalier. I’m so glad to see you look okay,” you said, your relief evident in your smile. “How was everything during the visit? Did everything go alright?”

Chevalier huffed at your questions. “Would I have returned so soon if things did not go well?”

Your face scrunched up for a moment, but you were used to Chevalier’s sass.

“I know, but I’m still allowed to worry about you,” you said, leading Chevalier over to a bench in the gazebo. “The people of Rhodolite know now what a kind King you are, but I can’t say the same about people in other countries. And I know you’re capable of handling many things, but I still don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll always wish for your safety and good health, can’t I wish that for my own husband?”

Chevalier took a moment to look at your face, eyes following the curve of your eyebrows and lips, the shape of your nose and jaw, all features he had long since memorized. Finally, he simply snorted, reaching a hand up to poke your forehead again as a smile made its way onto his lips.

“That is awfully sentimental, and also unnecessary,” he said. “I am not so weak as to be felled so easily. I will always return to my Rabbit in the end, so long as you wish to wait for me.”

Now who’s being sentimental? You didn’t dare say that to his face, although the caution was unnecessary, given the way he was always able to read your thoughts based on your expressions alone. His smile turned teasing, clearly knowing what you were thinking, but he didn’t comment further on it.

“Now, I believe you’re forgetting something,” he said expectantly.

He watched as your head tilted in confusion. The gears were clearly turning in your head to determine what he was waiting for, but it only took a moment for understanding to dawn on your face, your lips curving up into a warm smile.

“Welcome home, Chevalier,” you said, stretching up to place a soft kiss to his cheek.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he returned the kiss to your lips, the taste of home filling his senses. He didn’t speak further, but he didn’t have to. Every ounce of his love was put into his kisses, and you gladly accepted it all.

Neither of you could have ever predicted being here, Chevalier least of all. His life had become a fairy tale on par with the romance books he enjoyed reading but never totally understood. No amount of strict noble education, military strategy, or the annoying words of a certain foolish brother could have told him that a future like this was possible. But as he held you close under cover of the gazebo, happy to finally have you in his arms once again, he realized he was okay with that. You came into his life in a whirlwind of drama and intrigue, turning his expectations around and introducing him to so many unfamiliar things and feelings, like fatherhood, yearning, and love. It wore on him, at times, not being able to see where his future was heading thanks to all the new things he was experiencing by your side. However, so long as it was with you, Chevalier supposed he was okay with a little bit of unpredictability.

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter Ten

Loki x fem! Reader Series, A Court of Thorns and Roses/Mist and Fury AU Crossover with the various Tom Hiddleston characters.

Chapter Summary: You find the Spellbook halves and flee Vanaheim. But a twist makes it unreadable and the answer lies in Sakarr...

Series Summary: England. 1885. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you ...if you spend a week of every month with him. When the time comes to fulfill your end of the bargain, you are introduced to a world full of more magic and danger than you could possibly imagine...

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: PTSD and jealousy, Stella is anxious, Reader gets the hornies but no actual smut (not yet, we're almost there though, hehehe) , violence, and blood. Loki hurting a bitch because someone insulted his bb. Mutual pining. Light cursing. Grammar and editing mistakes.

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69

Thomas was sent out to tell the others to wait until tomorrow. To take a day rather than crash, rob, and run. You were introduced to the room supposed to be your bedroom. It was a lovely guest room with light blue walls and a darker blue comforter on the bed. Stella would have adored it. Your plans were only to take time to yourself to think and settle your feet until dinner.

You weren’t expecting Loki on your bed, lounging casually. His feet were over the edge and his elbow was against the mattress.

“Well then…I see you’ve been quite a success!” he said.

Part of your instinct was to ask him what he was doing in your room. Then again…you first truly met him in his intended form in your room. It then struck you- here you could both discuss plans without fear of any overlookers.

You folded your arms.

“And your own goal of flirting with the lady-,”

“She has a name, it’s Sylvie,” he corrected.

Fire churned inside you, a petty frustration.

“She must be awaiting you in your bed right now,” you replied.

It was a little bit of emotion, the emotional fire that got out of you, slipped past your own restraint. You waited for the smirk to appear on his face. It did not. He shook his head.

“In truth- no. Sylvie only glares at me when I flirt with her. Calls me a clown. I even showed her the fireworks. She looked like she would rather watch the paint dry. I only did a little- I praised her skill with daggers and she smirked.”

He went from lounging to standing in one fluid movement.

“She will be far harder to disarm, to distract.”

“Hmmm…so what should we do?” you asked.

There was a little itch on your chin. You lifted your hand to scratch it, glancing at the star marks on your hand. So little now- like scars. You were so used to them that you barely thought of them. Loki then gave a smile as he eyed them too.

“We did not train you for hours in vain. You have the very useful gift of your sensing. You must go about and try to sense where the book is…but my advice…”

He leaned closer to you, his voice getting quieter.

“Don’t sneak about the grounds. They will ask questions. Be discreet about it,” he advised.

You met him in his eyes and gave him a nod.

“What of your own powers? Loki…you can create duplicates, correct?” you asked.

“Why, Yes. You’ve seen it yourself many times,” he confirmed.

You felt yourself grin, throwing ideas into the plan.

“Can you make a duplicate of yourself to distract them? Or of me? Or of Thomas even!” you encouraged.

He tilted his head, pondering it. The slower growth of his smile showed that he approved.

“My dear, I can do that. I can also create illusions.”

He lifted a hand up, gesticulating as he went on.

If not a duplicate, then an illusion that you are there. Batting your eyelashes and saying ‘Yes Mr. President’ and swooning before him.”

You returned your arms to folding, feeling your eyebrows lift. But you continued.

“So step one, I will use my senses to find out where it is hidden. Step two, create the duplicates of us and Thomas. Especially to keep The President and Sylvie distracted…we will search for it. Make sure Thomas knows- I don’t want him left out!” you said.

Loki agreed, as he reached for the door you turned around.

“Who was the Weaver? Whose form?” you asked.

He returned your look, away from his exit.

“What makes you ask?” he questioned.

“He was shaking when he saw her. And I did not recognize her. Like he was in a trance. Had he not somehow got himself to take the sword and stab the Weaver, Loki, I would have been dead,” you pressed.

Loki walked closer to you, his voice still quiet.

Loki’s eyes hardened only a little. A sad shadow fell over his face.

“He told me you might ask questions. As I said, his past was…difficult, shall we say. But be patient with him, Y/N. He will tell you and the others everything, in time, when he’s ready…” he said before he left your room.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was to be another lovely dinner in the Knott palace in Vanaheim. Even amongst the wide tables and variants eating chicken legs with their hands as grease smeared all over their faces, you took note to cut your food into small bits and placed your napkin on your lap. The picture of polite gratitude that possessed no plans of robbery.

Even as you sat, placed next to Thomas and Loki, across from The President, your senses were reaching out, searching.

Spellbook half…Spellbook half…where are you?

Blast it, it could tell you the histories of the trees back home from miles away. Why was Vanaheim harder? Because of the magic infused everywhere perhaps?

You sipped your merlot. Thomas lifted up his glass.

“Why- all of you have been such lovely, welcoming friends. I say we must offer a toast to the Lokis. All of them,” he said.

“To the Lokis!” they repeated, eagerly taking a drink. Even the little boy gulped down the tan juice in his glass goblet.

Eyes turned over to Thomas. Smiling up at him, they leaned closer. Curious of the baronet more than they were of you or Loki. He smiled and patiently answered their questions.

“Yes- I have been trained to dance since I was a young boy! Sent to boarding school- surrounded by other trouble-causing little boys! But I passed and survived!” Thomas recalled around the group.

President Loki leaned back in his chair, one arm dangling over the upper rim. His golden horns seemed a little more polished for the evening. He did give you looks and you only looked down at your napkin with a coy grin.

“What else did you study?” Classic Loki asked the Baronet.

A servant went up and refilled everyone’s drinks from a large pitcher. You mouthed her a thank you.

“Mathematics, the sciences, the great writers of the past, and art as well…” Thomas explained.

Loki lifted up his glass to have a drink. You indeed had a look around- old paintings and busts on high niches surrounded the dining hall. You turned your head to admire them.

“My, this place does have beautiful art in it!” you commented.

President Loki lifted a glass to you.

“And you, Miss, are just one of the many masterpieces there,” President Loki oozed. You met his own look as he gave you a small toast and had a sip, eyes never leaving yours.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. President,” you replied sweetly, another coy glance down at your napkin, to glance back up at him.

Loki’s grip was so tight on his wine glass that he could have broken it in his fist. An iciness in his eyes. Yet he smiled- albeit tightly.

It seemed as if the dinner ended soon. The sky was still in the evening with an orange sky outside. Thomas turned towards it. He gave you a look and then to the variants.

“May I ask, all of you lovely gentlemen and lady- do you know of these pieces? I think we would all like a little tour!” he suggested.

Loki broke out of his trance to lower his jaw at him. You inhaled sharp, cold air through your nose in a slight gasp.

“Please include me! I must know all about the collection here!” you added on.

“Yes- indeed,” Loki agreed.

The President smiled “Oh, please! Allow me…I think I am more than capable of serving as a tour guide,” he offered.

As the servants arrived to clean up the plates, he went over to you and offered his arm. You draped your arm around the President. Thomas wiped his mouth with the napkin. He stood up next to you. Loki was merely behind. The President led all of you out of the dining room into the hallways filled with more paintings. Here there were tributes of all sorts of different mythologies on oil and canvas. He pointed out one of a woman and man embracing in a forest.

“This one is of Venus and Adonis…which I assure you, it has much resemblance to me,” President Loki boasted.

It did not. You smiled at him anyway. Your senses stretched out through the room like the lights from the chandeliers above-searching, searching. He discussed bits of each one.

Then he led you down back to the ballroom, showing the portraits. You then realized it was made of the various Loki residents who lived here.

“Mine is in progress as of now. I must make sure it is large and grand, so the people know who their votes go for. Here- this one is of Boastful Loki. He wanted it done by the best painter in Vanaheim-well, second to mine of course,” President Loki explained.

As you admired the details of the fur of the painting of Boastful Loki, you kept a polite smile and reached out your senses further.

There was something tingling- yes…there was something close...like a little bell in the back of your head.

There was something ringing in the garden. The garden outside the ballroom. It was actually far larger and went to the back outside the palace. Flowers, trees, and greenery as befitting a palace garden.

But something was out there- a labyrinth. A maze of green leaves and hedges.

There was a place beneath the bushes. A dead end. So it seemed normal. So none would suspect.

Trembling leaves. A secret door. The key beneath the flurry of green roses.

And behind the door-yes in that door…on a pillar…there was a library. And on one pillar…a book. Half of one.

There. There was the answer.

As your senses retreated back to you, you smiled up at The President lovingly. The joy of locating the spellbook added genuine exuberance as you spoke to him.

“I cannot decide which piece is my favorite! Though you are a wonderful guide!” you threw in. Thomas bit back the urge to smile further in amusement, though his eyes darted between you two.

“When I decide to campaign all nine realms and when I win….I am considering having a First Lady...” The President added.

Thomas raised his eyebrows and smiled like he was holding back a chuckle. Loki seemed so tense he would break into pieces and his face looked like in a second he was going to whip out a dagger and kill his variant.

You let out another laugh as you again glanced to the ground demurely, then looked back at him under your eyelashes.

“Oh- My. Mr. President, I am far too humbled…” you added.

President Loki only smiled at you.

“Only consideration…just in case…” he crooned.

You sent out a thought to Loki. His shields were far too down all while keeping your eye on the smug smile of the President.

“It’s in the labyrinth of the garden.”

When his thought returned to you, it seemed its same cool, even tone. Despite his tense state.

“You seem like you’re enjoying this,” he responded.

“Only because it’s working for me. Tomorrow- we go to the labyrinth. It’s hidden in a dead end. Alert Thomas. Remember- this is a mission, Loki.”

“Would you seriously consider being his First Lady?”

You swallowed a little, then flashed The President another smile as your thoughts went back to Loki.

“I’m just flirting with him like you asked me to do!”

“I know, but would you?” the God of Mischief repeated.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I only just met him.”

Part of you wanted to laugh- he was becoming a sullen child. Perhaps jealous you were able to crack the President successfully. And that he wasn’t able to with Sylvie.

The next day- it was decided. After breakfast, you all would go straight to searching. All of you talked privately and agreed on a plan.

Loki would create a duplicate of himself to make others think he was just enjoying another endless day of rowdy partying and relaxing with the other guests. As well as an illusion of you and the Baronet sitting in chairs, watching and smiling among them. Only conversing in polite small talk when prompted.

Then all of you crawled out to the gardens. You both snuck out, the bright wind whipping about and the sun bright. The smell of fresh earth beneath you.

Blast it, you already noticed around the hedges- there was The President first. Loki then conjured an image of you, an illusion. Dressed in a pretty day dress of bright pink like what you were wearing, right down to the hair on the top of your head. You were sent out, batting a fan and giggling.

The President wiggled his eyebrows and reached to touch your hand. The illusion took a step back.

“If you want to, then catch me!” it’s voice- no, Your voice- dared him.

She picked up her skirts and fled into the labyrinth. The President clicked his tongue. He placed his hands in his pockets, at first in a slow walk, and then began to search through to find you- your own excited echoes of flirtatious laughter echoing through.

“Why- where are you hiding little mouse? Come here!” he was teasing back as he wandered further.

Sylvie walked about the maze. Her gaze was forward and determined. All of you hid in the corner, peeking out as Loki sent out a duplicate towards her.

“Why- you seem especially terrifying today! Which enemies are you planning to defeat?” he said with a smile that failed to be seductive.

She glared murder into it.

“Please- I know a duplicate when I see one. Stop this nonsense!” Sylvie cried.

All of you froze in time, a small surge of panic from you. She folded her arms again and walked up to where you were.

“What the hel are all of you doing loitering around like fools when-”

Suddenly there was a little whirring noise. Sylvie cursed and reached into her pocket. A strange device- seemed to be metal and a rectangle began to creak.

“It’s broken! Damnit! Loki, even your talking makes it-”

Sir Sharpe stepped forward.

“Apologies Miss, but- might I have a look at it? I could try to fix it.”

“Oh, this! Used to be a tempad back in the day- I don’t trust you know what it is. But- it’s now just used to communicate with the others.”

“I will be glad to help, I have experience with such things, allow me…”

Thomas took the device. Then briefly glanced at you two, and gave a smile.

You put a hand over your mouth to hide the grin and urge to laugh.

'Our Brilliant Baronet broke her device. Now he has to fix it and distract her! Now, I’ll create an illusion, YN darling- we must hurry!'

As soon as their heads were lowered to focus on the communicator, Thomas providing the perfect distraction, Loki’s magic wielded another sneaky duplicate and a replicate illusion of you folding your arms and smiling. The two of you hurried off before she could see.

Your senses reached out as you both scurried along, trying to catch your breaths. You took Loki’s hand and pulled him in that direction. Sure enough, there was a dead end. Complete with a few green roses blooming near the wall of leaves.

Loki bent down and located the Green Rose. He reached into those delicate petals with his white, long fingers. They greatly overpowered the little flower. But they were gentle. Touching the delicate flower with reverence. You felt yourself staring. A second too long.

His hands…they were…so beautiful…

From between the petals, he plucked the tiniest golden key. As you moved aside the leaves, there was a tall door with the tiniest keyhole. He plopped it into the door and unlocked it with a click.

“Ladies always first,” he offered, opening the door as you stepped inside.

The inside looked almost like a burrow. How you imagined the Rabbit hole of Alice in Wonderland when you read it as a child. Roots of plants and an earthy smell. The dirt beneath your feet, stains your skirts and shoes. Yet you walked forward.

It did look like a hidden library. High brown bookshelves and more books piled around. There was even an old green sitting chair with more books piled on them. You noticed there was some light coming from above. Turning up your chins, you saw a hole from above the leaves leaving a direct stream of sunlight down, down, on…

Sitting on a pillar. A torn half of a book.

Relieved and excited, you both jolted forward. You took the book, holding it to your heart. A deep sigh of relief washed over you as you looked at the god. His shoulders relaxed and there was a smile on his face. He wiped off his sides, placing his hands on his hips as he spoke.

“Well, that was-”

Loki’s voice was cut off. There was a rumble, to where you had to catch yourself from losing your balance. The library shook like there was an earthquake. Books fell over from the shelves.

“What-what’s going on?” you asked in a panic.

There were sudden, long, clanging bells from outside.

“It’s a Trap! We must hurry- now!” Loki cried.

As you ran forward, there were vines and branches that reached out and began to crawl from above the earth. They snaked over everything. Long, greedy fingers reaching toward you. Over the books in that library- and you could have sworn many of them had thorns.

You both broke into a run to the door, but several long vines snaked over the entryway, blocking it. A few thick branches reached to Loki, trapping him and then to your legs.

You gritted your teeth.

“Oh, no you don’t!” you said.

You shoved the book for Loki to hold while his arms were still free.

You opened a hand and released fire. They felt hot against your face and you could smell the burnt wood and greenery. It burnt the branches and vines, while not touching the god, freeing Loki’s feet. He wriggled his ankles out of the vines and then headed towards the door.

You let out two hands of fire- one to stop the growing vines. The other hand blasted through the door. As you hurried outside, you noticed the vines shriveled in the sunlight, turning brown and dying.

As you went outside, Loki still clutching the book. There were already bells in the distance.

“It’s an alarm- they’re raising an alarm! Quick!” he cried.

You blasted your fire through the maze- cheating a way out as you ran through. You saw a dark waistcoat and a figure jumped. It was Thomas Sharpe pacing about alone.

Loki grabbed him by the collar like a kitten.

“We have the book! Let’s flee! Now!” he insisted.

Thomas said no reply but hurried along with you. You both raced through the loud bells of the palace as you escaped out the front door.

You hurried over to the streets. Sure enough, Hal and Jonathan had ran- meeting you both in the street corner. Hal interestingly kept a sheath with a long sword dangling by his side.

“Do you have the book half?” you asked.

“Twas up to Robert to go and fetch it!” Hal breathlessly explained.

“It had a riddle and the answer was a part of the brain only he knew, And-” Jonathan began explaining.

But he was cut off as three armed guards pointed to you- with swords out.

“Thieves! THIEVES!” one boomed.

You let out a small gasp, your hand hurriedly rushing to get your dagger hidden in your skirt. Dear heavens- here it came- when-

“All of you, behind!” Hal cried.

He charged forward, wielding the sword.

Before any of you could say a word, Hal ran to the guards. He quickly thrust and parried through them. He knocked them down- then found weak spots in their helmets and sliced a sword through the first one’s skull.

You gasped, seeing the blood gush. He fell down as a corpse. He then grabbed the next one- slitting his neck and then the other one, with one clean sweep, he beheaded the third and last guard.

All of you stood speechless. Their blood was gathering on the cobblestones in a large puddle.

Hal resheathed his sword. He was catching his breath, his curls freed.

“Now, dear friends, let us get to Kved, now that this business is dealt with,” Hal spoke calmly to the amazed group.

All of you began to hurry towards the palace, when a figure in a grey suit came out, hurrying towards you all. Before you hurried none other than Robert. He was partially soaking wet, there being a squishy sound he made with each step of his shoes. Water dripped from his hair. His clothes clung to him. But he was alive and he had in his arms a book half.

“I did it! I got it! That didn’t go too bad!” he declared with a tired smile.

There was a “BOOM!” sound. The Kved Tower burst into flames and then began to crash down. Breaking into shambles. There were screams as people ran to it with buckets of water.

“You destroyed it??” Loki cried.

“Not intentionally!!” Robert refused.

Jonathan turned around with a slight roll of his eyes.

“There’s time for fighting among us later- let’s hurry back!” he insisted.

Loki made a portal and everyone jumped through. Sure enough, all of you landed promptly back in Asgard in the same meeting room. Catching each other's breaths and yet also laughing.

“Robert, why are you soaked to the bone?” you asked him.

Robert tilted his head to let water drain from his ear. He then placed the book half on the table and turned around. He took out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter from his pocket and frowned seeing that they were all soaked through.

“There were two riddles you had to guess. Hal got the first answer- and they gave him that sword. Then the second one- the real inner room it was in. Only one could go through it- the one who answered it. I figured out it was the brain-it’s my expertise, after all. After I grabbed it, there was a trap that made the room fill with water. But I made it out!” the doctor recalled.

Loki used his magic. A golden shimmer ran down Robert and he was dried in an instant.

“Now, everyone…let us see what it says about the spell,” Thomas suggested.

Loki placed the other half of the book on the table. Magic in a golden light reached between them- forming thin lines like stitches as the spine of the book was put back together. Everyone huddled together to watch. Jonathan reached to turn over the pages, all of you ready to see what it said. There were plenty of words on each page in big, black letters. But the writing of the book was not in a language you spoke. One you didn’t recognize. You turned to Loki, who put a hand to his forehead and groaned.

“Norns…” he muttered.

“What…what is it?” you asked.

Jonathan leaned forward. He studied it carefully.

“This…this seems to be more….nordic. But it’s old. I cannot make out what the words mean. And only one among us is accustomed to that,” the spy answered.

They all turned to Loki.

“I do not know a word of it…” he confessed.

All of you slumped. You felt your own hands bunch into fists. All of that work for nothing? A key was given…only it was still a few steps behind.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You did your best not to be discouraged. Though it was hard. But there were other pressing matters- Stella.

You went over to check on your friend in her room the next day. Since your little trip left her cared for, but alone except for a few servants, you promised to spend the day with her. She sat there on the chair before the windows, both of you sewing. Frigga heard of the new guest and was generous enough to supply thread and needles. Your own work was getting done, but so many times she set down her need. She sat there, looking out the window still.

“Is there…anything else you want to say about the camp?” you asked.

“No…I just wish….I could stop thinking about it, dwelling on it…it’s yet my mind keeps returning to it, reliving it” Stella mused.

You set down your own embroidery of a bird in flight.

“It’s just now…I get worried…frightened….that…he might find me. And any moment- he could be here…” she confessed sadly.

“I promise you, Stella. He doesn’t know you’re here. And he won’t know- and this place has guards everywhere,” you assured her.

There was a knock. In came none other than Sif as well as Loki and the other variants- Thomas, Hal, Jonathan, and Robert.

“Hey, how is she? We all want to know,” Sif asked as she folded her arms.

Stella looked up at the group, then at Sif.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Lady Sif…and I heard about a new guest here. And there’s a rumor you got…got captured, yes?”

“It’s true,” she nodded.

“Well- The queen sent me. I’m going to be your guard and accompany you now, especially when our other mortal girl is busy.” Sif shrugged.

“Us ladies have to stick together when we can!” you said with a smile. You saw Stella returned it, she reached for your hand. You clutched it tight, then as she looked at the others, her smile dropped.

“I am so sorry…for burdening you all. For interfering with everything I…I don’t want to be a bother…” she apologized.

“Oh, you couldn’t be!” Thomas interjected.

Stella looked up, trying to hold in her tears.

“I only…I don’t want to be scared!” she said.

You saw it in her- pressing it back. But you gave her the handkerchief with blue flowers and told her to let it out, to cry. Then she wiped her eyes.

“I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t be complaining…shouldn’t let all of you see me like this. I know this is much for all of you-I’m a good woman, I swear I am,” she said, shaking her yellow head.

“Oh, it doesn’t make you any less good just because you're unhappy,” Robert assured her.

Lady Sif looked around the plain, grey room with the plain, almost grey-ish furniture.

“Hmmph- if you stay all day cooped up like you have this week, you’ll make your room your prison,” the lady warrior said.

Loki folded her arms. “You should have seen your dear friend when she arrived here after her own heartbreak, Stella. Now look at her- smiling and thriving. You shall too, dear lady. Just give it some time.”

Stella looked again out the window.

“I’m…I’m not sure…I want fresh air but…but I’m just scared that…that…”

“The castle is heavily guarded,” Loki repeated.

“I know yet…yet…”

Jonathan leaned a little forward.

“Miss Harris,” Jonathan stepped forward. “There is a lovely, large garden here. Hundreds of flowers in bloom, roses tended to by the queen. Birds singing in the trees above you- Sif and I could accompany you there. I promise we won’t let you out of our sight for a second.” he offered.

She looked up at him. Her blue eyes became a little brighter.

“That sounds…very nice…as long as Sif or YN is there too,” she replied.

You gave her a smile. You remembered when you were still so used to your own time—getting used to being alone with men. No watching eyes. At least here, there would be some safety.

“The Gardens have lovely roses. And there’s a certain tree…the queen told me something about it, Stella. I’ll show you. I'll come up to join and tell you what she said right after I’m done training,” you told Stella.

Sif got up and opened the door, leading the way. The Night Manager offered his arm and she wrapped around it, walking over to the gardens.

As you passed by to go to the training room, there was a window overlooking the gardens. You saw them sitting on a bench outside. Indeed, the fresh air and the sight of flowers gave a warmth to Stella’s face. There was a peaceful smile on it. She walked about as Sif strolled around, hands in her pockets. Then she returned to sit on the bench there next to Jonathan. Sif kept chatting at them-you couldn’t hear what. Jonathan kept quiet- listening more than speaking. Sometimes gazing at Stella. Wisely, he only spoke when it felt needed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A week passed. Stella seemed to improve slightly. She was sleeping better at night. She wore her blue beads every day and clutched them with white knuckles less often. She did more than just stare sadly out of windows. She visited the gardens daily, sometimes staying outside for hours. If you couldn’t be there, Sif stayed by her like a guard dog who would snarl at any enemy but wag its tail at their keeper. Thor met her and shook her hand so violently you feared it would come off. She became nervous when Queen Frigga came by to see her, but the Queen greeted the new guest with warmth, offering to tell her more in-depth about the gardens, like more like a mother figure than a powerful goddess.

Yet the disappointment of the spellbook still stung all of you. As hard as anyone tried, no one could make out a word. Not even Loki. The library was scoured to its darkest corner, but there were no translation guides kept in Asgard.

Then Loki called forth a meeting, but this time, there was a smile on his face.

“I have good news. I did some searching and asking…and there is a translation guide. All is not lost.” he announced.

There was an air of excitement among everyone. Thomas jolted upright. Hal leaned in a little closer. Robert had a giant smile on his face. Jonathan blinked, as if making sure this was really happening.

“Really? How?” Robert asked.

Loki held out his hand. A small image of a planet circling around in the air was conjured over it.

“There is a translation guide to the most ancient of Nordic…in Sakarr. In the Grandmasters palace.”

“What’s Sakarr?” you asked.

“A garbage planet. Full of the lowest, seediest scum. But full of games, tournaments, sports to keep its aliens and people happy,” Loki explained.

The little planet circled around in his hands. Then it vanished in a shimmer of light. But Loki pressed that hand to his chest, continuing his announcement.

“However…they will all have eyes on me. It will require someone sneaking around to find the book. But…there is a certain image of me…I have a history there. There’s a certain part of me they expect in Sakarr. It is savage, chaotic, lawless- and we must accept it and go with it. That side of me- it will show up-”

“Then- no matter! You play up the image and we will search! All of us!” you insisted.

“There’s a plan I have…but…”

His blue eyes went from the general group to focusing on you.

“And they already know about our lady. And…there’s a certain….image of you as well, my dear, that they have of you. And one you’ll have to play up. Or else there will be suspicion.”

“Alright, what role?” you questioned, shrugging your shoulders.

“I have to warn you…Sakkar is full of impropriety. You would hate the place. And you would hate what they heard about you- this…role. If you wish not to do it, dear Lady, I understand. It will make you…uncomfortable.” he apologized.

“Just tell me what I must do,” you pressed.

Loki explained it to you in a few words.

A hand flew over Thomas’s mouth. Hal had a small smirk. Robert turned away to regain control of the urge to laugh. Jonathan only looked intently, his face still.

You blinked. Then despite your nervousness, you took in a deep breath.

“I can do it. It doesn’t sound too bad. It’s all just pretend.” you responded.

Loki tilted his head, his jaw a little loose.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.

“It might be new…but I will do it. For the sake of our mission, I will do it.” You announced.

Loki nodded, and then he turned to the others.

Loki nodded, he then grinned. He burst into a little half laugh that came out in a puff of air. It was him as much as his green and black robes.

“Well then- let us waste no time. And Jonathan- our dear Spymaster. You are the one most used to sneaking about, finding things. It will be up to you to find the book in the palace. YN will sense it and tell you. Can you do that?” the god asked.

Jonathan nodded, giving a little smile back.

“Of course, I can.”

Loki folded his hands, laying out the plan with the whole circle.

“I am in good favor with the Grandmaster. That will be to our advantage. He will let us all in and we will distract them- him especially. YN will sense where it is. She’ll tell Jonathan. Jonathan will find and get it as quickly as he can. Then we return. Simple as that.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Right before you left, a chest was brought. There was a screen for you to change behind. You slipped off your layers of clothes. Your stockings and boots were traded for simple sandals. The dress was easy to slip on.

Sakarr was surrounded by literal garbage like the sea around Asgard. It reeked of old rust and mold, making your nose curl. The city of Sakarr had red, green, yellow, and blue buildings. Far brighter, more colorful than you had ever seen, ever imagined a building to look.

The palace was unmissable. It was so tall, taller than any other building, that you nearly hurt your neck to look up, up, up. There were large statues of grey heads decorated in the middle. Ships flew through the air easily, making you gape in wonder at them. Going through the smog and crowds of people in cloaks, you felt a little awkward in your own garb. The other men were being as polite as they could to not gape at you. Then finally, giving a mutual nod, all of you stepped inside the palace. There were armed guards in black armor with either red or yellow accents. They noted you all as friends of Loki- and especially seeing you, they let you in.

The walls in the first rooms were grey and sleek- so futuristic, more than you could have ever imagined. Your powers reached out, sensing where things were. But sure enough, perhaps because it was touched more with technology than magic, your powers located the translation book.

You nudged Jonathan, then whispered in his ear.

“The study.”

He didn’t nod to make it obvious but gave you a look back and a small smile.

Then, you found the room Loki described- there were red and yellow lights. The thumping bass of music with whirring sounds. Music where you could not name the instruments. Blasting right into your bloodstream.

Once the doors slid open, you were let in right at the front. And you could feel their eyes on you. On your dress.

It was a rich, dark green. It practically shimmered with small sparkles beneath any light. No layers were worn beneath it. It was also very low cut, almost to your naval. The dips and curves of your cleavage full on display. It had to be. Your shoulders were exposed over the small sleeves. Then finally a long skirt a high slit, showing some of your legs. A dress that would give your parents- give anyone- from back home a heart attack. Lovely and deliciously scandalous.

You could already feel the eyes all on you. Some in desire. Sure enough, there were whispers and stares. All down your cleavage and leg. You knew what they were saying.

The Trickster God’s Whore. The one fabled around Sakarr. The woman who saved her own life when on the brink of death in exchange for warming the God of Mischeif’s bed.

Let them believe that. Let them be afraid of him. If not, a little afraid of you.

You made your place around them. All sorts of odd creatures and people mingling about this way and that. Waiting for the cue. Jonathan and Robert were merely polite. Hal fit right in as he got a drink in a glass and handed one to Thomas to sip on. Jonathan was quietly scanning everything- like your own group of guards.

Then there was attention as a man appeared. A man with tan skin, grey hair, and a grey goatee but with blue eyeliner, a blue mark on his chin, and yellow robes. Everyone turned their eyes down in respect. You felt his own eyes inspecting you, the exposed skin, and then he smiled.

The Gamemaster- you remembered everything from Loki’s explanation.

“Ah- so you’re our famous courtesan. Nice, Wonderful. Hmm- wouldn’t be surprised if all of you were.”

“It’s an honor to be here. And where is he? My own master?” you asked quietly, almost sultry. Folding your hands behind your back coyly and giving him a smile.

Then in walked Loki and heads turned. His leathers- pure black with armor on certain points. A long cape that was black on the outside, and yellow on the inside. Swaggering, chin up. Eyes full of deviousness. More like the Loki who first made the bargain with you when you first saw him in his true form. Without looking he reached over to where a servant carried a tray of drinks and got one without looking away. Heads turned again and even the music seemed to be dimmed a little.

“Ah, hello there- very good to see all of you…now…I have a lady waiting for me…” he announced.

He opened his arm- going forward. Then a hand. He smiled at you, one finger beckoning you to come hither.

“Come here, my dear,” he said.

You smiled at him, walking over to his side. The air felt cold on your exposed skin.

“Why…I must rest my feet- give me a seat!” he ordered.

“Who is letting my dear friend walk about? A seat!” The Grandmaster ordered.

One creature ran over, pushing aside several guests already sitting revealing a long, plush couch. They gestured over. Loki walked forward and sat there, taking you with him. You were about to sit next to him when he put a finger up to stop you.

“Ah- you are mistaken, my pet- this may be my seat, but this is your throne.”

With a small squeal escaping you, he picked you up with his large hands and placed you on his lap. Then masking it as delight, you smiled at him. Letting out a feminine chuckle as you wrapped your arms around him. Leaning in closer.

You felt his hand go down, fingers splaying over your leg. Looking up, you saw Jonathan had vanished. Now was time for a show. Time to stall. Distract- especially as the Grandmaster was here.

There was chatter and noise as the party continued. The others mingled- made small talk. The circle keeps any attention or questions about Jonathan’s disappearance to themselves. The Grandmaster began to discuss things you had no idea about with Loki. You merely smiled, feeling his touch all over you.

Loki’s hand went down to your inner thigh, squeezing it gently. You swallowed back a gasp from it, the touch, clutching onto him.

“Now then…where were we? Ah- yes, how is the business in Sakarr? And the Champions?” he asked going to the Grandmaster. “Who won last?”

“Korg. Again. At this rate- he will be my champion! Isn’t that just splendid!” he bragged.

“Hmm yes- oh he! The giant rock! Who would have expected it of him? Well- not at all. That is why we love it,” Loki commented.

His hand went further splayed- slowly touching you, running up and down your leg. Your bare skin on his bare skin. You felt something in your breath hitch.

Something in you…was stirring. Electricity. You looked down, feeling yourself get warm all over. Loki glanced at the Grandmaster.

“Sometimes my pretty little prize gets shy- how adorable of her. It only makes her more endearing to me. But this is a welcome place for her, and for us, hm?” he commented.

“Oh-of course…and by the way, as a thank you- there’s a room ready. If you need to…enjoy her for a bit,” The Grandmaster nudged with a wink.

Loki burst into light laughter.

“I will keep it in mind for later, I only wish to enjoy the party now,” Loki refused.

He tipped your chin and made you look at him. It made your mind go blank. Your breath quickened to a slight pause as he spoke- his beautiful profile right before you.

“Do not worry, pet. You do not have to…not yet. But you’ve been such a good girl for your god-”

He leaned over and kissed your neck—a small, sensitive area. A sound came out of you, like a moan. His hand got more and more up your inner thigh. A silent confession rang in your head. You liked him touching you. You liked his hand, his kisses. You liked being on his lap.

“Let me make sure you’ve enjoyed a drink here," he said.

Then he gestured for a servant to get you something to drink and a glass like an upside down triangle was placed on a small table before you.

Yet you didn’t want it. You just wanted, silently, for Loki’s hands to stay on you.

A feeling hit you. A feeling you never paid much attention to before. A feeling maybe you never had before. But his hands- his lips, his warmth. And the feeling was strong- stronger than it had ever been before.

Something was pooling between your legs. Something damp. It couldn’t be your courses- they ended recently. It couldn’t be urine. There was no smell of it. And it seemed to increase as Loki slid his hands over your bare skin. Making it feel cold, and tingly as he kept touching you, his long fingers possessively splaying over as he spoke.

It struck you. Your mother talked with you before your wedding and even longer before, the gossip you shared among friends. About the female body. What happened before the… act. Was this when…when…

“Your shield is down. And your mind is panicking,” his thought rang out in your head.

“What’s going on? What’s happening to me?” you asked silently, remembering to keep on the sultry smile.

“You don’t know…or you’re in denial…It’s only your body reacting to me, reacting to being touched, my dear. Nothing more to be scared about.”

“Loki, I…i just…”

“If you’re uncomfortable now…”

“No! We have to keep going! At least until they return!”

His eyes turned over to you, keeping its small smile.

“Say the word, and I will make it feel even better if you’d like….” he thought back.

Your heart beat harder. His smooth words in your head did nothing to stop the wet feeling between your legs. Only made it worse. You made no response to him. Could not. You forced your focus to the bright red and yellow lights over the grey walls and the music. Forcing yourself back in the present moment.

Perhaps anyone’s hand there on you would do the trick. You grinned away the discomfort, the strange feeling of arousal…and that you liked it.

Then one being- an Asgardian, clearly with a human appearance, with a bald head and muscles with a dark beard. Clearly stepped forward to approach all of you.

“Loki, when will the god of Thunder ever be caught? What a prisoner he would make for our games!” he asked, his voice a thick cockney accent.

“Skurge, that depends…why don’t you ask my dolt of a brother yourself? He’ll be glad to dance right in here,” Loki replied, shaking his head.

Skurge’s face got tight. His voice raised.

“Come on! Persuade him!” he demanded.

“I cannot. You cannot convince him of anything…” Loki continued to refuse.

“Then would you? It’s been so bloody boring lately!” he complained.

“Why would I waste my time fighting like that? It’s far less elegant for my taste, the style. Besides, I find spectator sport far more enjoyable...among…other activities,” he replied looking at you with a smile. He lifted your hand to kiss it and you felt yourself giggle a little, getting hot and tingly again.

Skurge huffed. He backed off and took three steps, and then he turned. And insulted loud enough that it echoed.

“I bet her cunt is the only spectator sport you like now, Lokes. Enjoy your filthy slut.”

Your mouth drops its sultry smile. You pressed a palm over your lips in shock, shame, to restrain a reply. Something cold dropped in your stomach.

Loki remained still. Very still. Looking right at the smug smile of Skurge.

Then a green light shone in the god’s eyes. In a split second, there were gasps as before his feet, stretching out, two shadows of Loki emerged. They reached out into the room and grabbed Skurge, pulling him to that grey wall.

The crowd gathered, and Loki only stared forward. His face was serene but focused. His eyes glowed green.

Skurge struggled, but in vain. Then, in a blink of an eye, they pulled both of his arms and twisted them in obtuse, angled directions. You heard the cracking of bones. Skurge released a pelting scream so loud that it could shake the palace. Then the shadows dropped him- his arms broken, fractured in many areas.

Your jaw dropped. The coolness earlier forgotten.

Loki glared at him right into his eyes, his arm re-wrapped around you again for protection.

“Call her that again…and it will be your neck,” he threatened quietly.

[fleetingcalypso]

We were girls together.

≋ Living in the past, recounting experiences that are now part of an old carving on the altar of memory can at times be the only remedy for a lonely heart. ≋

≋ Camilla Macaulay x FEM!Reader ≋

≋ Word Count: 907 words.

≋ TW: religious (catholic) imagery.

We were girls together.

We sat close to each other in class, our feet touching and occasionally tapping each other's ankle with the tip of our shoe whenever something entertaining occurred. We lied side by side on the same bed, reading from the same book, complaining when one of us would turn the page before the other was done, occasionally she would rest her head on my chest and fall asleep listening to my heartbeat. I would trim her hair and she’d trim mine. We held each other’s hands while crossing the street, the childish gesture feeling like a sacrosanct inside joke between the two of us. We exchanged recipes, fashion tips, accessories. 

We would rest our bodies on the grass by the lakeside, her head on my lap or vice versa and we'd look up at the sky and find shapes in the clouds. Once she pointed her finger up to the heavens and said "That one looks like a knight, the other looks like a dragon," I laughed, "Perhaps there's also a princess nearby, then. Just hiding away, waiting to be rescued." She hummed in agreement though it seemed as if she had more to say, then her eyes closed. I let her nap while I moved my fingers through her hair.

We were girls together. 

When the cold came, with its freezing kiss and the gift of candid snow, she'd wrap her arms around me and I'd wrap my coat around her, swaying her from side to side as if she was but a babe needing comfort. Sometimes she'd forget her gloves and she'd place her perfect hands into mine, greedily stealing all the heat I could produce. Silly girl she was, there was no need to steal. I would have gladly warmed her up any way I could have, even by using my own body as foundation wood for a burning pyre in her honor. With eyes full of mischief she would frequently pluck the cigarettes out of my fingers and claim it as hers, expecting me for my hands to find her waist and drag her closer to me, consequentially taking back what was mine from her. 

We were girls together. 

She was the one to kiss me first. It started as a game, truthfully, to kiss each other until one put an end to it. We never did keep count of who pulled away for air first, each time, being eager as we were to get back to each other's lips. Those times where she would spend the night at my apartment are some of the most bittersweet memories I own. She would show up with the orange glow of the sunset and ask, "Can I stay with you?" And powerless as I was, I replied, "There's no need to ask." One day turned into two, into three, into four, until she often spent an entire week or more rolling around in my bed sheets and wearing my clothes. Even presently, I’m confident that the sweater I’ve been searching for far too long is still in her possession, possibly hiding out in the back of a drawer.

In the moments where she felt like she could let her guard down, a completely different girl than most would see jumped out. She would be unapologetically hilarious with risquè jokes, leaving me to question where she heard them in the first place. She would complain about Bunny from time to time, complain about her brother and his ways, complain about how she felt trapped. There’s no denying it. My beautiful, perfect girl was but a nightingale trapped inside of a rusting cage.

We were girls together.

We were two sheep in a pack of wolves, but as I was able to hide my ivory fleece disguising it as a predator’s gray fur, she was incapable of doing the same and so she was cursed by becoming the Holy Virgin Mary they all prayed to, on their bruised, bloody knees, stretching their arms up in the air to grasp at the hem of the veil that hid her face. It doesn’t surprise me that I was her only shelter. The way she’d melt when I did so little as to link my pinky with hers, it felt like a young girl experiencing joy for the first time in her life.

“I never thought this could happen,” She whispered in my ear one night, thinking sleep had taken over me, “I love you.” Her legs were tangled with mine, we shared the same pillow and the very same air, our nightwear discarded on the floor. How I wish I had responded. I would have told her I loved her too, more than anything. I would have told her that I could be her knight, saving her from the world’s injustice. I would have asked her to run away from Vermont, maybe fly to the other side of the world and start a new life together, just two girls being together.

We were just girls together, when we were younger. Camilla Macaulay has been to this day my greatest spark, my epitome of the perfect love: it was quiet, subtle and it was enough for the both of us. After Henry died we all somewhat drifted apart, but as I stuff a wrinkled letter into a pristine envelope I pray to all the Gods out there that my moonlight goddess could return by my side.

[nainawithspecs]

A little Rohini piece because I think she is extremely cool and also extremely underrated!

Rohini is not a woman of a lot of words.

And this is not particularly a secret to anyone in Vrindavan. She partakes occasionally in the discussions of milk and grains, lends a hand to Nanda in politics and calculations, sneaks in a suggestion to Krishna for clevering his antics here and there, but, ultimately, finds peace in curling up by the window, the afternoon sunlight falling languidly on the book in her hand.  

She is unsure, then, of how exactly it is that she gets roped into being the head of entertainment for the little girls of the village, that too for a full evening.

The adults are off to a wedding in the neighboring village, the boys are out frolicking in the fields, and the girls, not allowed out in the dark alone, are staring up at her with expectant eyes from where they sit cross legged on the ground.

“What,” she begins, and hopes her tone does not betray the confusion she feels. “Would you all like to do?”

“Can we play battle like the one they show in the nataks?” one from the fifteen responds, her red bindi rising with her eyebrows in eagerness.

“I do not think that would be very wise,” Rohini states, and the abundance of knives as well as children in the house, alongwith the lack of battleground proportions of space makes her believe she is right to do so. She would like to return the girls to their parents with all their organs intact. 

“We could weave a garland then?” 

This time it comes from the front, from the girl in braids and a blue choli. Radha. 

The unofficial leader of the gopis and the partner in crime in most of her nephew’s mischiefs, smiles excitedly at Rohini, and animatedly adds, “I saw Yashoda Kaki bring in a basket full of flowers today. We could all sit around and weave it together.”

Most of the girls nod in agreement.

It is not a bad idea at all, but, “She had to use all of them for the puja this morning, I am afraid.”

Radha’s moon-like face falls, and Rohini feels a slight pang of regret. 

The kid just beside Radha immediately declares. “Take us to the wedding. I heard the food there is delicious.”

“It will be over by now, Lali,” Radha pouts, looking into the distance. 

“And we can not go to a wedding empty handed,” a girl from the middle row pipes up, seemingly scandalized. “Right, Kaki?”

Rohini hides an amused smile at the exchange. “Quite right. And besides,” she looks over at the bright young faces. “I must confess, I happen to be completely in the dark in regard to whose nuptials are even taking place.” 

The girls exchange glances among themselves. There seems to be a silent mutual understanding when Radha leans ahead to whisper conspiratorially, “Us too, Kaki.” A pause. “I think that is why we were not invited.”

Rohini leans ahead too, and drops her voice to her level. “I think that is why I was not invited either.”

The young ladies break out in giggles and Rohini, surprisingly, finds herself joining them. 

“Weddings should be about food, not the names.” Lali huffs. “Nobody cares about them.”

“True. The fight over food makes better stories than most of the bride and grooms,” another girl, adorned with green bangles and a leaf crown, asserts.

Radha suddenly gasps, deep brown eyes lighting up. “Kaki! Why don’t you tell us a story? I have seen you reading everyday. You must know so many.”

There is murmur of agreement in the gathering and Rohini is surprised that why had she not thought of it.

“Yes,” Rohini breathes out, “I do know quite a few.” She may perhaps not be a words person, but stories to her had always been more about art rather than language. More a painting rather than ink. “And to suit the occasion, some of them happen to involve weddings too.”

There is a cheer from the gathering as Rohini beacons them closer. This time, the expectant eyes and eager expression are more than welcome as she begins, “There was once a king who wanted to marry a princess from a different culture. She agreed but first placed two demands about her god and freedom…”

When the boys come back, they are shocked to see the gopis chatting away with Rohini late into the night, hanging on each and every word of hers like a sacred thread.

When the grown ups come back, at the crack of dawn, they are left confused at the sight of kids asleep around Rohini in Yashoda’s aangan, as the crisp, almost orange light falls on the royal princess reading between the dozing forms, lightly stroking Radha’s hair who’s asleep on her lap.

(Years later, when Krishna kills Kansa and becomes the Lord of Mathura, when Subhadra comes into their world and when all Vrindavan is allowed to be is a distant unimportant village, Rohini weaves a tale to her daughter to lull her into a slumber and dares not dwell on why her heart recalls a hazy laughter filled evening and hurts itself so.) 

[splatoonpolls]

SPLATOON OC TOURNEY ROUND 3 BATTLE 10

Keen Eye For All That Glitters, Hand of the Storm Surge (or Surge for short) by https://shadowlugia711.tumblr.com/ @shadowlugia711 vs Maddy Medusa by @anemonequeen

PROPAGANDA/BACKSTORY

SURGE

A Salmonid Snatcher, who is notorious for bringing back many eggs safely from battle. It is also an avid collector and horder of shiny objects, filling it's home with all sorts of trinkets. Some are "borrowed," others stolen, and still more bartered for.

This is Surge! (Full Salmonid name - "Keen Eye For All That Glitters, Hand of the Storm Surge") It is a Snatcher known for being great at retrieving Golden Eggs, but it has a penchant for taking just about anything shiny.

Its home is filled with all sorts of trinkets and scraps, collected from all sorts of places including Runs, scrapheaps, and just about anywhere where stuff isn't nailed down.

Surge isn't just a kleptomaniac though, and enjoys art. The various sheets of metal its obtained are etched with designs it carved itself. Driftwood is similarly whittled into small statuettes. The Horroboros tattoo circling its arm and shoulder was done by another Salmonid, but Surge drew up the design itself.

If you like little guys with a penchant for mischief and that make art out of abandoned bits and bobs, you should vote for Surge!

MADDY

oc post

my splat3 sona! shes a funny anemone girl she's the heiress to the throne of a not-so-distant region called Choralia, populated by mostly sea anemones. She's in hiding though, since she doesnt want the responsibility of being queen and she's strictly anti monarchy she has a purple clown fish named perseus who's constantly acting like she still wants to be the heiress moved to the splatlands from reef city, the capitol of choralia she constantly has her headphones blasting loud music as a form of stimulation. she enjoys the vibration she runs a music store in splatsville called Medusa's Temple, but it's barely open cause she's out playing turf war and napping

[chopfizzy]

little sketches of some of my next gen characters!

left to right: sunny daze, unnamed but ill call her cloudy, vex

these guys are my celesticord/dislestia nextgens, i love them dearly (I've been a big celesticord fan since I was 10, cant back out now)

bit of info about them under the cut!

(first of all, credit for sunny's design goes to https://www.deviantart.com/arexstar !)

Sunny Daze (she/her)

The firstborn, and the only true alicorn of the three, she's next in line to take over Celestia's duties and roles (twilight is doing other stuff in my au, will talk abt that sometime)

Appears to be the perfect pretty happy princess all the time, how does she do it??

She's the most collected and responsible, and is usually the one to deal with any political or social events

Cloudy (she/her)

Secondborn

While she appears to be an alicorn, she's more like a unicorn/draconequus hybrid, her wings are different than that of other alicorns or pegasi upon closer inspection. She uses magic to disguise herself as a regular alicorn to try to appease ponies

Feels stuck in her sister's shadow, wishes she could keep it together as well as her, she also has middle child syndrome (celestia unfortunately has to spend a lot of her time with sunny when shes not already busy)

Prone to magical outbursts when she gets emotional, which she is working on, but its difficult when you're so full of potent pony magic on top of chaos magic

shes not really considered for taking on any particular royal or magical duties at the moment, much to her chagrin

Vex (they/he/she)

Thirdborn

Takes the most after Discord both in appearance and personality

They don't care what anypony thinks of them, unafraid to be 100% themselves (unfortunately for everyone but pinkie pie, this includes the occasional chocolate milk storm)

Full of mischief, but not malice

Has zero involvement in royal or political affairs, expresses no interest in ever taking such a position

[yanderes-galore]

Okay okay, I had this in my notes for a while waiting for MLP to be open for requests again so: concept of Twilight with a Draconequus Darling? I can't remember if there was a specific line of thought when I wrote this down tho, maybe the Darling is just as chaotic as Discord

Oh, sure! I'll do some ideas I have for this.

Yandere! Twilight Sparkle with Draconequus! Darling

Short Concept/Reaction

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Attachment issues, Delusional behavior, Clingy behavior, Bad mental health, Manipulation, Forced companionship.

There has been only one of your kind known in Equestria.

You, on the other hand, have not been caught.

Mostly because you prefer to stay in another dimension.

Your behavior could be like other Draconequus, chaotic creatures hellbent on mischief.

That or you could be one of the kinder ones of your culture.

You'd most likely be chaotic, such a craving for chaos set in full swing by the time you decide to investigate Ponyville.

You've heard of Discord in Ponyville, curiosity got the best of you to check it out.

This is when Twilight meets you.

She herself was not expecting more of Discord's kind.

In fact, she feels she dreads it once she sees you pull the same things Discord did.

Chaotic pranks, pestering ponies, altering the fabric of reality....

By this point, Discord is reformed, so Twilight tries to get him to help reign you in.

It takes a long while, but encouragement by your own kind calms your desires.

This whole "friendship" thing must be pretty powerful if it caused Discord to reform.

Fluttershy most likely can't handle two Draconequus, which means Twilight is stuck with you.

This begins your little companionship that soon grows into you being all Twilight can think about.

Twilight has her castle at this point, which leaves space for you.

Spike certainly hates the idea of you moving in.

Twilight is determined to change you, however.

It takes time but the young princess introduces you to Ponyville culture.

You even consider reading books with her.

Twilight slowly grows attached to you, taming your chaotic personality.

Similar to Fluttershy and Discord, you two are really close.

Twilight never thought she'd become so attached to you, her affections on the edge between best friends and something more....

The castle is sometimes even decorated by you, by Twilight's suggestions to prevent anything... too chaotic.

Twilight goes from stressed about your presence to calmed and happy.

The other Mane Six are surprised just how close you are.

Discord is even impressed the princess likes you so much.

You didn't torment her too much, did you?

Twilight would treat you similarly to her basic yandere behavior.

She does research on your culture and tries to understand her feelings towards you.

You are special to her, she wants to know why.

If you're as affectionate as Discord, Twilight would be weak in the knees.

You're clingy... and she likes it.

Spike would be the first to notice Twilight's behavior towards you.

The research, the affection, the obsessive behavior.

She isn't right in the head.

You may also encourage it accidentally, finding her behavior either cute or interesting.

You have no idea about her worsening mental health.

Seeing the alicorn so clingy... you thought that was just a pony thing.

You're not usually around them this often-

You leaving Ponyville now is out of the question for her

Twilight would panic if she simply saw you not in the castle.

She may treat you more like a beast she's taming due to her feelings.

She wants to keep you behaved and at her side.

Even if using magic and manipulation to do it is wrong....

Due to your powers, you could leave.

Yet Twilight's mental health will deteriorate and she may not act rationally.

She may just track you down with a spell or Discord.

Now that you've entered her life, reformed due to her help... she doesn't want you to leave.

Not after everything you've both been through.

Overall, Twilight would probably fall for you while reforming you.

Then she'd do everything she can to keep you happy in Ponyville, beside her.

Even if it meant figuring out how to seal you in stone like Discord.

"With me, you'll never want to leave Ponyville! ... or me-"

[oceanspray5]

I used to LOVE jelsa (jack frost/elsa) during the RotBFTD days and I still love that ship now. I was struck with an amazing locklyle headcanon so pls lemme know what you think of it:

AU where Lockwood is Jack and Lucy is Elsa.

Lockwood's parents died and he and Jess die a few years later cuz of something Lockwood does while playing against Jess's warning. Jessica tries to save him but they both ended up drowning in the lake (or something to that effect). Except Lockwood is revived as the spirit of winter. He doesn't know why he was "saved" and not Jessica when it was his fault she died. He concludes its his punishment for eternity is to go unseen and unheard by anyone. He's so very lonely and depressed but he has no one to turn to (i haven't decided who George is yet).

Meanwhile we have Lucy, youngest princess of a small kingdom ruled by dictators and frought with uprising. She is born with a gift that makes her monstrous to her family and they shut her away thinking it'll only harm their already horrible reputation.

There's two ways this AU can go:

1) Lucy grows up lonely and lost wishing she could have just one person who would understand what thats like. One day, locked in her room, Lockwood happens stumbles upon her window while also solitary and restless and stumbles upon her Perhaps its cuz they both want someone who understands them so badly that Lucy can see him and hear him and he can talk to her, but they finally find the one person in existence that makes their existence feel a little less bleak and a little more whole.

2) Lucy is forced to attend a ball or event of some sort that her family is trying to put on for show to appease the townsfolk and she can't avoid it. And one of her sisters provokes her into revealing her powers so the townspeople turn on her. The rest of the family use it as an opportunity to pretend they've been so busy "containing" Lucy all these years, it's why they've been unable to work on improving the conditions of the Kingdom. Lucy has to flee to save herself in a world she knows nothing about and she's being hunted and feeling worse than ever, feeling as equally cursed with her life as Lockwood does in his death.

They meet cuz Lockwood sees her running and, in the mood to cause some mischief, helps her out. She doesn't know he's there at first... But slowly she realizes something helped her escape and for the first time in his undead life Lockwood is seen by someone and Lucy is viewed as something other than a monster.

And then they realize they've both finally found a friend and maybe something more.

Anyway so... Thoughts? I'm so tempted to write something for this. Not a full AU, maybe just a oneshot? But the idea struck out of nowhere but I'd love to hear what you all think of the headcanon itself.

[sea-owl]

Inspired by my favorite fairytale Snow White and Rose Red. Was originally gonna be for polin week day six but I'm late, oh well.

In the wooded country side of England sat the Ancestral home of the Featherington family, and on the lands their home grew several flowers in honor of the family's crest of the Butterfly. Among those flowers grew two shrubs, one containing the blush white Penelope Roses, and the other grew the multicolored pink, lavender, and green Felicity Hydrangeas.

The lady of the house, Lady Featherington, loved these two flower shrubs so dearly she had named her younger two daughters after them, Penelope and Felicity. As seemed to follow their namesakes the two girls were also like the flowers. Penelope was the quieter one of the two, preferring to read and write her stories. Felicity loved running through the woods, and causing mischief. The two girl loved one another dearly, often seen walking about hand in hand as they roamed about the woods.

The animals of the woods that surrounded their home trusted the two girls. Little hares would eat cabbage from their hands, deer would graze beside them, and the birds would continue to sing their songs in the trees. Neither girl fearing the woods that surround their home, as they knew they were perfectly safe, and trusted the woods. Many a night the girls laid down on the mossy ground when it had grown too dark to continue forward.

On one such of those nights, the two girls were collecting berries and had lost track of time. A tree root has gently raised itself to stop the girls from going forward.

"Perhaps we should stop here for the night," Penelope suggested. Felicity nodded and the two girls drifted off to sleep.

Felicity's eyes shot open at the sound of her sister's gasp and hands yanking her back. "Penelope?!" Felicity exclaimed, still groggy.

She looked up, but Penelope kept her eyes straight ahead. Not far from where the girls were sleeping was a rocky cliff. The trees last night had stopped them from going over.

When the girls later told their mother and older sisters, Portia did not seem at all shocked. "Remember, girls, so long as we take care of the woods, the woods will take care of us."

As summer turned to fall, Portia had to leave for business in London. She took her two oldest with her and instructed her younger daughters to take care.

"Remember, my daughters trust the woods. So long as you do it will not lead you astray."

Penelope and Felicity nodded. "Yes, mother."

As the girls finished their chores, night fell, and they sat by the fire. Penelope read aloud while Felicity practiced her water colors.

"Then the prince kissed the sleeping princess-"

Felicity wrinkled her nose. "That's creepy."

"-with true love's kiss. The princess had awoken and they live happily ever after."

"Could you imagine how weird it would be if you laid down for a nap, and then some bloke is just standing above you and ruining your good dreams by kissing you!" Felicity said, waving her paint brush around. "Like, good sir, I would like to nap in peace, please!"

Penelope giggled but was soon interrupted by a knock on the door. "Felicity, please open the door. It must be a traveler looking for shelter for the night."

Sheltering travelers was nothing new to the girls. It was often told that part of protecting the woods, they must also protect its travelers so no harm came to either.

Felicity nodded and got up from her spot. Unlocking the door, Felicity was not expecting the sight before her.

Felicity let out a shriek at the sight of a very large brown bear head poking through the door. Throwing herself backward, Felicity quickly hid behind her sister.

"Please," a voice said. "I mean no harm. I only wish to warm myself a little."

Both sisters snapped their full attention on the bear. The brown bear was looking at them with green eyes that almost seemed human.

"It's a talking bear!" Felicity exclaimed, now coming out of her hiding spot. She came closer, excitedly curious about their new guest.

"Oh, you poor thing," Penelope said. "Come in and lay by the fire."

"Thank you," the bear said as he made his way inside. "My name is Colin."

Felicity giggled. "How silly, a bear named Colin."

The girls took a broom and gently sweeped off leaves and early frost off the bear's back. He was patient with the girls especially when they brushed through a particularly knoted tangle. When the Colin's fur was dry and warm from the hearth, Felicity had climbed up onto his back. Colin laid down to make it easier for her.

Penelope sat next to them as she read more stories.

"She's likely to fall asleep up there," Penelope said as she finished another story.

"It does not bother me," Colin said. "She's so small I barely feel her."

Penelope tilted her head. "What's it like being a bear?"

"What's it like being a human?" Colin countered.

Penelope giggled. "We do humans things, I suppose. Eat, sleep, walk, marry, read, paint, and write, among other things."

"Some of those things bears do too," Colin pointed out.

Penelope giggled again. "I suppose you're right."

The two continued to talk until Penelope could no longer hold open her eyes. Unknowingly, she laid against Colin and his warm fur.

Colin couldn't help but smile himself as he laid his head down to sleep. It has been so long since he had been in the company of others. Maybe listening to the woods wasn't a bad idea since it led him to the Featherington sisters.

[fleurelinathehybrid]

💛[Chapter 21: Problems end… and new ones begin. P. 3]💛

At the moment when the second Endless turns around and reveals her crying niece, she manages to move her Siblings with the little girl's cries, an unmistakable sign that she was alive and healthy in her new home.

—Congratulations, little brother. —Death exclaimed, her smile illuminating the space, as she cradled the baby in her arms— It's a beautiful girl.

Everyone longs to burst into joy, but they must remain calm for the sake of the Dream.

—My little one… —whispered the monarch of Dreams, exhausted but firm, keeping his eyes fixed on the girl who was sobbing in the arms of her midwife and aunt.

With a delicacy that borders on the ethereal, Death carefully hands the baby to who will be her "mother." Before welcoming her into his arms, he summons a celestial blanket, embroidered with constellations, which wraps the girl as if she were a fragile porcelain doll. Protected by the stellar blanket and lulled in her arms, Dream immerses himself in a sea of ​​tears of uncontrollable joy.

A joy that spreads like a sweet epidemic among the siblings gathered to welcome the newly arrived princess. Delirium and Destiny approach Dream, filling the void left by Desire, who, with a hint of reluctance, has discreetly retreated.

—We have a beautiful girl, love. —Hob says with a smile, leaving a soft kiss on his partner's cheek as he looks at his little girl. —Hello, little princess, your dad is here.

—What name will you give her, my lord? —Lucienne asks, approaching the couple with curiosity and excitement, seeing that Despair had overcome her bad time.

Dream looks at the little girl, then at those present, at his partner and father of the girl, and at his tiny princess, who, to the general amazement, had calmed her crying and was now resting serenely, with her closed eyelids barely trembling.

—This little girl appeared to us in a dream, proclaiming her name and the mission she will fulfill in the future. —he said with a serene voice. —Hob and I can now discard the list of names we had; She has chosen hers.

Anticipation fills the room, all eyes are on waiting for the revelation.

—Dear siblings, Lucienne and Matthew, —he announces, receiving a warm hug from Hob and turning him attention to the audience.— it is with great pride that we present to you our beloved daughter: Dawn Gadling, who is also acclaimed for her distinguished title: Dawn of the Endless.

Joy danced around the room like a magical carousel, capturing everyone's gaze towards the little girl who, with her rose petal skin, eyes full of wonder, a cascade of brown hair and finely sculpted features, captivated everyone with her innate grace.

So captivated were they by the new member of the family that Desire's silent goodbye faded away unnoticed by anyone except Matthew, who witnessed it with a mixture of amazement and perplexity.

Desire, having accomplished his task, was ready to honor his agreement. Everything had gone smoothly and there was no longer any purpose in staying there. The intervention of the Fates had been effective, avoiding any disastrous outcome. What reason was there to stay longer?

The raven, lively and curious, soon followed the Endless to the room of secrets. He found it at the right moment, just when their fingers were about to touch their glass heart. —Is it your time to leave?

With a calm expression, the Endless's golden gaze fixed on him, lacking the usual mischief. —I've finished my job here, Matthew. Everything has ended.

—Is everything resolved now? —inquired the raven with a caw that revealed its annoyance— What about apologizing to my boss for that prank of yours?

—I have presented my apologies; However, his reaction depends on him. I was just looking to make up for my mistake, that's all. —they say with a coldness that contrasts with the warmth of the previous moment.

Matthew tries to reply, but a sudden glare seals his beak. And so, without further ado, Desire of the Endless fades away, leaving the Dreaming empty and everyone in suspense.

The raven, oblivious to the presence of another Eternal behind him, hears a voice.

—Calm down, Matthew. —Despair murmurs from the shadows— They will know why they are leaving. Better take care of my brother, okay?

With a gesture of respect, the bird responds: —Of course, your majesty. —And with an elegant bow, he takes flight towards the refuge of his leader.

As soon as she sees the crow return to her brother, now a mother, she looks suspiciously at her twin's glass heart.

She wants to face them and get into it, but first she has to maintain discipline. In short, she has to say goodbye to her siblings, something she plans to do right now, before meeting her twin.

[💛💛💛]

As soon as Desire entered their kingdom, they were overwhelmed. Although they had resolved the big conflict with their brother and everything had ended well, Desire was emotionally exhausted.

⟪I promise you that I will not interfere in your life again and I assure you that, after this, you will not see me again.⟫

⟪I hope that one day you can forgive me.⟫

They only remembered the essentials: their mission was to rescue their brother and the new member of the family, their niece. Exhausted, they fell to their knees and, not caring if anyone heard them, gave way to a sea of ​​tears.

They were not worried that their impeccable skin would be affected by the tears that were to come, after recognizing that it was likely that they would not exchange a word again, as a result of that prank that they now considered their worst mistake. Although they had made amends for their fault, they had the feeling of having lost everything.