#also maybe i should have kept the princess crown designs the same but they change around canonically so hmm!

[itsnotmourn]

the princess and her vessels

#ouughhh i had a long ramble version but i lost it all :'[ WAAHH MY INFODUMP IS GONE #i have a very deep urge to include actor/actress but i dont wanna disturb the wife/husband dynamic..... #.....but like. beast actress... ough #or maybe personal rules should be broken #also maybe i should have kept the princess crown designs the same but they change around canonically so hmm! #[ the art of mourning ] #[ spooky princess au ] #spooky month #spooky month fanart #spooky month carmen #spooky month lila #spooky month jaune #spooky month pump mom #spooky month pump’s mom

[saviorbook]

Day Out

So, I'm just catching up. Day 2 of @fransweek

“Do I have to go?” Frisk had been curled up on the couch with Sans, a rare event, since the captain always seemed to have something to do.

“Yes, now come on! There’s a ball later tonight, you need a dress, and you have to be there. You also promised we’d go out sometime. Well, sometime is now.” Frisk groaned and used the skeleton under her as leverage to get herself up.

“duties call, princess. too bad… i was enjoying our time together.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“COME ON… GET DRESSED, WE HAVE SOME SHOPPING TO GET DONE.” Papyrus’ voice interrupted whatever complaint she had, and she shot a glare at the younger skeleton.

“Why are we bringing the moody bone bag when Sans isn’t coming?” Sans rolled his eyelights at her nickname for his brother, and Chara simply looked at her innocently.

“Well, we need a man’s perspective, and Sans has his own preparations for tonight’s festivities.” Frisk quirked an eyebrow, but she decided to head to her room so she could put on something more appropriate, regardless.

“if you’re expecting honesty from papyrus, you’re the wrong person to look for it. he worships the ground you walk on, and anything he says to you will be biased. it’s also not very fair to lady frisk. after all, it’s well known that the two don’t get along, and i’m sure that my brother would love an excuse to get under her skin.” Papyrus gave a little huff at being called out like that, but it’s not like he denied it.

“WELL, THAT JUST MEANS THAT FRISK WILL HAVE TO BE THE HONEST ONE. PLUS, IF I DO HAPPEN TO LIKE SOMETHING SHE’S WEARING, SHE’LL AT LEAST KNOW I’M BEING GENUINE.” A scoff came from the staircase.

“I’ll only know that you’re being genuine if you don’t have that stupid, smug grin on your face. Otherwise, I’ll probably assume you’re being sarcastic.” Frisk had thrown on a large sweater over the tank top she had on and grabbed some combat boots.

“We should probably go before Frisk changes her mind, so we’ll see you later, Sans!” Chara grabbed Frisk’s arm and dragged her out of the house.

“DON’T WORRY… WE’LL KEEP HER ENTERTAINED. JUST DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO.”Papyrus nudged Sans’ shoulder and followed the girls.

“have fun...”

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

Papyrus had decided to take the car, so while he and Chara were chatting up a storm, Frisk couldn’t help but wonder what a day out with Sans would be like. She wanted to picture the hypothetical scenario of a day all to themselves, and while she knew they both liked couch cuddles, she also knew that they both wanted an actual date.

With how proper he is, he’d wear that deep plum suit she liked, and perhaps, she had a dress in the same color tucked away in the back of her closet that she could wear. He’d probably borrow bone bag’s car, and he’d take them to one of the fancier restaurants that allowed monsters. He might even take them to one of the restaurants that didn’t allow for monsters, since dating the crowned princess had its perks. If he did that, she’d have to put a stop to it, but she had a feeling that he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight. She smiled when she thought about the blush that adorned his face when he drank wine and realized that she would probably be the designated driver, not that Papyrus would approve of her driving his car. They’d probably go see a movie; Sans was a sucker for a good rom-com but would never admit it. As the night wound down, they’d head home and cuddle on the couch, maybe falling asleep in that position. Even after waking up with various kinks in her muscles, Frisk had a hunch she wouldn’t care because she would have spent the previous night with her favorite person.

Of course, this was all hypothetical, but Frisk kept smiling all the same.

“Come on, Frisky! We don’t have nearly as much time as I would like, so we have to be fast.” Frisk sighed but left the solitude the car provided and just hoped that there wouldn’t be too many people around.

“YEAH, BRAT. WE BETTER GET A MOVE ON.” Chara nudged Papyrus a little, but Frisk just rolled her eyes and flipped him the bird as she passed.

When they entered the store, Frisk immediately shrunk in on herself. There were a lot of people in the small store, and she just wanted to go back to cuddling with the soft spoken captain. Even if she was there though, she knew their cuddling session was still going to be cut short. He didhave a lot of responsibilities as captain, so he would have left anyway.

Chara started throwing gowns, slips, and wraps at Frisk, drowning her in an ocean of fabric. All of the colors were obnoxiously bright, and while, she could admit that some of those colors worked well with her skin tone, she preferred a more muted pallet.

“Chara, are all of these really necessary? I only have one body, and I kind of already have a dress… The only reason I’m here is because of you.” Chara glanced over shoulder to look at Frisk.

“Come on, it’s only for fun. You don’t have to buy anything, but when else am I going to get the chance to see you in something bright?” She turned back to the rack and continued to fiddle with the copious amount of dresses. “Now, go try some on.” Frisk sighed, realizing she’d be stuck in the dressing room for an inordinate amount of time.

The first dress she tried was this big, gaudy, neon pink ball gown; she figured she’d humor the bone bag and Chara, and then, she’d try the other dresses. She didn’t know whether she should be disappointed or relieved that they weren’t laughing. Chara’s small squeak of approval made her think it was going to be the first.

“YOU KNOW, YOU ACTUALLY DO LOOK VERY NICE IN THAT DRESS.” Chara nodded her head.

“Yeah, and I only came here because you needed out of house, because I already have a dress. Soooo… We’re totally getting it because you look great, and we both know that you would feel bad if we didn’t leave with anything. I’m also not letting you get away with just buying a dark colored slip. Think of this as that pop of color in your otherwise boring closet.” Frisk eyed Chara wearily but agreed to do it, in the end.

“It’s not boring, just comfortable, and it’s not my fault that you like walking around in a neon green jumpsuit.” More people had started to look at her, and she kind of wished she could go back to being a ghost. “Can I get out of this now? Everyone’s looking at me...”

“Of course! So long as you don’t mind wearing this to the ball. I doubt I’ll ever see you wear it any other time, and I’m sure it would catch Sans’ attention.” Frisk blushed a little and went back to the dressing room to continue, well, trying on dresses.

“NOT THAT IT WOULD MATTER. SHE COULD SHOW UP IN SWEATS AND A BAGGY HOODIE AND HAVE HIS ATTENTION.” Chara gave a small giggle and shook her head a little.

“Only because she’d stick out like a sore thumb, but I get what you mean.” She nudged Papyrus gently.

The next dress Frisk came out in was a bright, sunshine yellow. The bodice was decorated with darker, golden flowers that wound their way down the skirt that pooled over her feet.

“Man, I know how to pick out dresses. You look amazing!” Papyrus nodded his head in solidarity. “Go try on the next one!”

This dress was a very saturated blue, mermaid gown. Frisk felt self-conscious as she stepped out of the dressing room. The dress hugged all of her features, it was in a flattering way, but she didn’t like the stares she received as some men catcalled her. Instead of feeling powerful, she felt exposed and like she wanted to dive back into the first dress just because of it’s extra fabric that did a better job at hiding her shape, or at least, it made her feel hidden.

“HEY! BACK OFF! THAT IS THE PRINCESS YOU’RE OGLING.” Oh, Papyrus… You just made things so much worse.

All of sudden, she was swarmed by a large group of people wanting to get a better look at the reclusive princess. She started panicking… Her eyes were wide in fear as people started pulling out their phones, trying to get some pictures of the exposed girl. She wanted to run, but there was no whereto run. She felt like they were all staring at her, and to be fair, they were. She felt like the room was closing in on the group, making the space feel even more crowded. She tried to look for Chara or even Papyrus, but they had been buried within the sea of people. She almost wanted to scream to Papyrus to use his magic, nearly not caring if someone were to get hurt, all so she could escape. Her breathing was starting to become more rapid as lights flashed in her face. She had to squint to get an idea of what was going on. Her chest started to hurt, like her soul was being pried from her body, and finally, she started crying. They were silent tears that felt like burning coals streaming down her face. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to drown out the noise and lights. She tried to think of Sans: his hand on her face, his breathing becoming slower so she would mimic him, the sweet nothings he would whisper into her ear to try to get her to look at him, and his eyelights boring into her soul in order to tell her that he was there, and they were all that mattered. The thought of him helped calm her down a little, but it wasn’t the same. She simply had to wait to be rescued, because she was too much of a coward to do it herself.

“Hey! Get back, you savages! She’s clearly having problems, and you’re not helping.” The chatter became louder as Chara spoke out, drowning out whatever she was going to say next.

“Please… Just stop…” Frisk’s voice barely came out as a whisper, but if anyone else had been asked, she didn’t say anything at all.

“OKAY, THAT IS ENOUGH! DO NOT MAKE ME USE FORCE!” Papyrus was finally fed up with seeing Frisk struggle that much.

He waded his way through the crowd that was now speaking in hushed whispers. When he got to her, Frisk was curled up in a small ball, simply trying to disappear.

“I’LL STAND GUARD BY THE CHANGING ROOM. WHEN YOU’RE DONE GETTING DRESSED, I’LL ESCORT YOU OUT OF THE SHOP. BY THAT TIME, CHARA WILL HAVE ALREADY PURCHASED THE FIRST DRESS. I DO, HOWEVER, NEED YOU TO STAND.” Frisk glanced up at him and threw her arms around his neck, letting out massive sobs into his hoodie.

“Okay… I think I can do that. I just really want to go home.” Papyrus looked at her and stroked her head, trying to comfort her.

“I KNOW I’M NOT REALLY GOOD AT THIS COMFORTING THING, BUT WOULD YOU THROW ME A BONE?” He inwardly groaned at the pun Sans would have loved ever so, but Frisk let out a small laugh as she took his hand to stand up. It almost made saying a pun worth it.

“Did you just pun? Wait until I tell Sans, he’ll never let you live it down.” She smiled a small bit.

“YOU WOULDN’T DARE… DESPITE WHAT OTHERS THINK, YOU LIKE ME AND WOULD NEVER THROW ME UNDER THE BUS LIKE THAT.” She shook her head a little as she walked back into the changing room.

When she came back out, Papyrus was right where he said he’d be, guarding the small cubicle of a room. She lightly smiled as he put his hand on her back to guide her out of the suffocating store.

~~~~~~~~

Frisk sighed as she paced in her room. She knew she still had to go to the ball; as a princess, it was her duty. She had already thrown on the ball gown, since she had promised Chara she would wear it. However, she was also trying to come up with any reason to not go. The store had been bad enough, and she knew those pictures were already online. She also knew that Sans was going to be there, and even though he had his job to do, seeing him was a reason all its own to go.

“Frisk, are you ready? I know you don’t want to do this, but-” Chara cut herself off, pausing to let Frisk know it really wasokay for her to not be there.

“I have my duties Chara… Besides, when else are you going to see me in this pink, poofy thing?” She laughed a little to herself and exited the room.

“You put your hair up. I can actually see your right eye!” Frisk rolled her eyes.

“Very funny, but yeah, I thought the dress might look a little better if you could see all of my face. Kind of thought, why not?” She gave a small smile as she looked out over the expanse of pink.

“Well, you look beautiful. Are you sure you want to do this, though? You can always back out if you want.” Chara spoke slowly, trying to see if this was something Frisk really wanted to do.

“I’m fine. Sans will be there, and even though he’ll be on duty, his presence should be enough.” Chara shook her head a little but dropped the subject and helped Frisk with one of her buns that had come loose.

~~~~~~

When they arrived at the dance, Frisk started looking for her favorite skeleton but couldn’t find him at any of his usually assigned spots. She bit the inside of her cheek and glanced around for any of her friends. She would even settle for Undyne at this point, but alas, they all evaded her, and she was left to fend for herself. Her eyes started flickering around the room; the walls felt like they were starting to close in on her, and her vision tunneled, unable to focus. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand grabbed her wrist, and her fist went flying towards whoever had grabbed her.

“heh, have you been practicing that swing? it’s better than the rest of the guard. you even give alphys a run for her money.” She nearly screamed in panic when it dawned on her that she had nearly decked her boyfriend.

“Sans! I am so sorry, are you okay? Did I hurt you? Please, tell me I didn’t hurt you. Wait, no. Do tell me if I hurt you...” She had his face in both of her hands and was inspecting him for anymore cracks or damage to his skull.

“i’m fine… i just saw that you were starting to panic, and like a numb skull, i grabbed your hand before making you aware that i was here. i should be apologizing, and i just want to know if you’re okay...” He looked into her eyes and spoke softly.

“I’m fine now that you’re here. Today was just kind of rough, and I really needed you...” Her voice grew softer and trailed off towards the end, but he knew what she said, and he gave a bittersweet smile because of it.

“while it feels great to know that my princess needed me, i now need to know why... papyrus told me a little bit of what happened, so if you don’t want to talk about it here, you don’t need to. however, i would like to hear it from you.” She swallowed and told him what had happened, the entire time not looking at him, because she didn’t want to see his disappointment in her for not being able to stand on her own.

“hey… hey, you did what you could, and you tried to calm yourself down. if i look angry, it’s not because of you. you don’t deserveanyof my anger; the people that made you feel small do. i know that look, and i can promise you that i’m not disappointed in you. you’re the kindest, smartest, funniest, strongest, and most beautiful being that i will ever have the pleasure of meeting, let alone loving. you deserve the world and more, and i am so lucky to have been blessed with your presence. i view it as a miracle that you chose to love me, and i love you so much, it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders every time i see you. you could never do anything to disappoint me.” Sans wiped away the tears that had formed under eyes.

“I love you so much, and I honestly don’t know what else to say, because nothing I say would ever be enough to express what I feel for you.” Frisk reached up to his face and put her forehead against his, and they just stayed like that for awhile.

“care to dance, princess?” He gave her a small smile and looked into her eyes.

“You’re not on duty?” She gave him a skeptical brow, and he responded with a small shake of his head.

“nope. i have the week off. i wanted to spend some more time with you, and with how busy the both of us are, it’s pretty hard to do unless i beg the queen for some time off, which i did. besides, did you not notice my lack of uniform?” She took a second to glance down and realized that he had a point. Instead of his usual shoulder pads, lapels, and combat boots, he was wearing a black suit with a tie so purple it nearly verged on being black itself.

“i also couldn’t help but notice that you look ravishing tonight, love. who knew that you looked so divine in bright colors?” A lovely hue of pink adorned her face at his compliments, and she slightly shrunk into herself.

“i didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. do you just want to leave?” He looked at her in all seriousness and studied her face.

“No! I mean, I still want that dance… I also just don’t want to leave. I needto do this.” She met his eyes with a pleading look.

“hey, i’ll support you in that decision… i just want you to know that you don’t needto do anything. i’m proud of you for wanting to do this though.” He smiled as he took her hand to lead her to the dance floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The week Sans had off was incredible. He doted on her the entire week, and she’d dote on him any chance he gave her. She felt like she was dreaming, but everyday, she’d wake up with him next to her or with a lovingly made breakfast on her lap. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and today was his last day off. She managed to wake up before him and made him some scrambled eggs with sausage links, a small fruit salad, coffee, and a toasted mushroom swiss bagel smothered with cream cheese. She wafted the coffee in front of face, but instead of immediately going after the coffee, like she thought he would, he leaned up to give her kiss.

“thank you, love. it looks delicious. did you make anything for yourself?” He grabbed the coffee cup that was still in Frisk’s frozen hand.

“Yeah, I ate some toast. It’ll keep me held ov-” She was cut off by a strawberry being shoved into her mouth.

“you need to eat more than just some toast. i worry about you, you know.” She gave him a soft smile.

“I know… It’s one of those things that I find as irritating as I do endearing.” She laughed a little but stopped when she saw the serious look on his face.

“frisk, i’m serious. i love you, and i’m terrified that one day you’re going to do something dangerous, or you might just forget to take care of yourself… i can’t lose you.” She gave him a small smile.

“And you won’t, at least not yet. I mean, I can’t promise that you won’t one day. After all, I amhuman. However, that day may not be for a very long time, and since I’ve already been a ghost, you might not lose me at all. We really don’t have a way of knowing until it happens, but I can promise that until that day does come, I’ll be here, with you, because I love you, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Sans sniffled a little as he tried to blink away the tears that were threatening to spill from his sockets.

“okay… i think i can handle that for now.” Frisk smiled a little and held up a sausage link.

“Time to eat?” He chuckled a little, shook his head, and took a bite from the sausage she had in front of his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“i know we haven’t really been out since the ball, so what do you say, will you let me treat you to a date?” Sans was dressed in his fanciest uniform and held his hand out to Frisk.

“Only if you get changed… If this is supposed to be a date, then you don’t need to be dressed like you’re on an escort mission.” He chuckled and brought her hand up to his mouth to plant a kiss on her knuckles.

“as you wish, princess… please, dress in something comfortable. i think you might be surprised by where i take you.” Her cheeks grew warm as she watched him go to change.

When he came back, he saw that she was wearing a black tank top under an over-sized black and purple sweater, a pair of black leggings under mid-thigh length shorts, and the pair of black combat boots he had gotten her.

“perfect, but i must ask how i look. i’m sure it’s shocking.” He was wearing a cream colored sweater, black jeans, a pair of combat boots, his leather jacket, and his helmet was tucked under one of his arms.

“Shocking would be an understatement, but you look reallygood.” He blushed a little as he reached up to scratch the back of skull.

“we’re taking my bike. if that’s okay, of course… i, uh, i brought you a helmet and jacket…” Frisk had never seen Sans this flustered; she was almost starting to worry.

“Sans, I love your bike. Of course we can take it, bonehead.” He let out a sigh, and some of the tension seemed to slip off of him.

“yeah, okay… i really hate to ask you, but until i tell you to, can you keep your eyes closed?” He wasn’t expecting her to actually do it. That was a lot to ask of someone, especially in the world he had grown up in.

“Yeah, I can do that. You just need to tell me when I should close them.” Sans looked at her, nearly in shock. “Sans, I trust you… You’ve proven that I can, time and time again. Why would this time be any different? Heck! I trust you so much, if you told me I had to jump off of a moving train in order to stay safe, I would do so in a heartbeat.” Sans could only respond by releasing the breath he didn’t know he had been holding and nodding.

He guided her to the bike in complete silence, still shocked with the amount of trust she had in him. If he had been her, he wasn’t sure he could do he same. He shook off that thought as they got to the bike that was already loaded with the supplies that their date would need. He got on and helped Frisk get situated.

“you can close your eyes now. if-” Before he could explain that it would be nearly impossible to hear him once they were on the road, he noticed that her eyes were completely closed. He kind of just sat there for second, just staring at her. Eventually, he collected himself and put his bike in gear, and they were off.

~~~~~~

Frisk tilted her head when she felt the smooth pavement turn rough. Where were they?She shook her head a little and tried not to speculate. Sans wanted this to be a surprise, and dang it, she was going to let him surprise her. She spaced out for a second and was surprised to find her helmet being lifted from her head when she snapped out of her stupor.

“we’re here… don’t open your eyes yet, though. we still need to do a bit of walking, and i need to do some set up when we get there.” He grabbed her hand so he could lead her the rest of the way.

“I already said I wouldn’t open my eyes until you told me to. No need to panic.” She smiled a little and gave a contented sigh.

“i know, i just… i’m having a hard time convincing myself that you’re real, that thisis real. you’re so perfect, and just last year you were dead, a ghost. sometimes i think that you drove me crazy with just how hard i fell in love with you, and i’m just imagining all of this.” She gave his hand a squeeze and gave him as much of a loving look as she could muster with her eyes closed.

“You know, I feel the same way sometimes. You’re so soft and gentle and loving. Compared to how things were in the Underground, I sometimes have a hard time believing that things could have turned out like this, so I think I’m just imagining it.” She paused to allow her words to sink in. “Do you want to know how I fight those feelings?”

“how?” He sounded so lost, Frisk could feel the start of her own tears.

“I think about you. There’s no possible way for me to imagine what it’s like holding your hand. It’s warm, soft, and it doesn’t feel like bone. Anytime I imagined kissing a skeleton, I thought it’d be like kissing a wall. As it turns out, that’s not the case. My imagination is pretty good, but it can only work with things it knows. You were my first kiss. How would I know what it feels like to kiss anyone? How would I be able to imagine it?” She felt his hand squeeze hers, and she smiled a little as they continued on their walk.

Eventually, they stopped walking and she felt Sans’ hand leave her own.

“just a minute, love. i’ll be done in just a minute.” She could hear him rustling around, and she took that moment to draw in a deep breath that filled her senses with the smell of nature.

“you can open your eyes now...” As Frisk slowly blinked eyes her open, trying to get used to the light adjustment, Sans took her hand and led her to the checkered blanket he had set up.

They were on Mt. Ebott, sitting on a blanket, watching the sunset with a telescope to their side, and a beautiful picnic laid out for them to snack on.

“Sans… It’s beautiful… But, I thought you hated this mountain, why bring me here?” He let out a sigh as he studied the way the sun shone through her chocolate brown hair and watched as the shadows that her hair drew across her face moved and swayed with the wind.

“when i’m with you, i feel like i can do anything, even come back up here. besides, this is the best spot to go stargazing, and that’s something i’ve been wanting to do with you for a long time anyway.” Frisk looked away from the sunset to stare into his eyes and laughed a little, startling him into worry.

“I’m sorry, it’s just funny that you wanted to take me stargazing when I’ve been keeping the most beautiful stars to myself. I would say that I feel bad about it, but I’d be lying.” A blush made its way to his cheekbones, and he had to look away to keep from imploding. Frisk let out a laugh that he swore he’d do anything to make happen more often.

As the moon rose and the stars started to shine, they both stopped what they were doing to just look at the dark expanse of the universe being filled with an uncountable amount of stars, some having died out long ago.

As the night came to a close, the telescope went unused as Sans just told Frisk about the constellations, each one having already ingrained themselves within his soul. More than half of the picnic had gone uneaten, since Sans had prepared too much, and the dorks, they fell asleep on top of the mountain, completely exposed but feeling the safest they had in years.

#sans x frisk #frans #au frans #fransweek

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

You know how we have pet costumes? Give Jacob one, make him a cute space cowboy😈😈😈

WE'RE BACK BABY

Please enjoy this little ficlet (that was actually my 3rd attempt to write a fluffy ficlet for this universe because all the other ones kept becoming future chapters lmao)

--

“This is humiliating. I look like sheriff Woody or something.”

“Aw, I was thinking more like John Wayne Gacy, you know?”

“The...the clown serial killer…?”

Angie pursed her lips. “Wait, who was the cowboy guy in all the old movies? Like, before Clint Eastwood and whatever.”

“That’s John Wayne. Not John Wayne Gacy,” Jacob tugged at the sleeves of his costume and readjusted his cowhide vest. “And I don’t feel anywhere near as cool as him right now.”

She rolled her eyes and crinkled her nose. “That’s because you’re not cool. You’re a grown man playing dress up with a kindergartener.”

“So are you.”

Angie straightened her Native American headpiece and threw one of her braided pigtails behind her. “Yeah, but I know it’s stupid, so therefore I’m doing it ironically which makes me cool.”

Jacob sighed heavily but didn’t argue further, instead tugging his cowboy hat down further to shield his face that burned with embarrassment. Being forced into having playdates with his captor’s coworker was nothing new. He had spent plenty of time being Mibao’s sole playmate aboard the ship, doing the best he could to keep the six year girl entertained and not too psychologically damaged. Being the youngest in a sibling group of only boys, he was a bit rusty when it came to knowing anything about kids. Thankfully, Mibao was more than happy to take him by the hand and show up all the “fun” things she used to either do back home or what she would now do with her “kitty”.

Today’s game of choice was dress up. Every day felt like dress up when it came to the girl’s ever expanding wardrobe; she was always dressed in an obnoxiously puffy and sparkling princess dress fashioned with ribbons and bows galore and always with a matching crown. Fine, no big deal, he could slap a tiara on his head and call it a day, he’d worn worse at the few fraternity parties he attended during college. Nope, not good enough. Mibao had a very specific game she wanted to play which involved him wearing a cowboy costume of all things. A very realistic and detailed cowboy costume, assless chaps and spurs and all. Again, he could...handle it for the most part. The only thing that really bothered him about it was all the coos and giggles he received from both his and Mibao’s captors when he finally came out in his new outfit.

And he knew for a fact they took many, many pictures of him.

It didn’t end there, Mibao still had more requests. Angie needed to join in as well and she was required to be an “indian princess” to partake. Naturally, she was more than happy to agree if it meant getting a break from the absolute nightmare of a captor she had been saddled with. So, now Jacob had to deal with the fact that she would have to watch him play pretend in this ridiculous getup. He could never catch a break with her, it seemed, she always had to catch him when he was in the middle of doing something cringe worthy. She didn’t even look half as uncomfortable as him and she was literally wearing half as much clothing.

Or maybe that was exactly why she was so comfortable as she sauntered up to him, making a finger pistol to tip his hat away from his face. “Cheer up, partner,” she teased. “I think it makes you look cute.”

“I think it makes me look like Owen Wilson from the museum movie,” Jacob replied, hoping the shadow of the brim hid his reddening cheeks.

“Oh my God, you are a tiny little twink cowboy, huh?”

“I’d rather be the gladiator guy.”

“You wish you could pull off being the gladiator guy.”

A rebuttal was on the tip of his tongue when Mibao made her appearance from behind the monitor where she had been changing. This time instead of her usual princess attire, she was dressed...pretty much the same, only this time she had a tiny pair or iridescent fairy wings attached to the back. What a fairy had to do with cowboys and indians, he hadn’t the faintest idea. She stopped when she saw the two of them and stuck out her tongue in childish disgust.

“Eww, stop kissing!” She scolded. “You can kiss the princess later, Jake, it’s time to play!”

Jacob had never been more grateful in his life that the creatures idly watching them couldn’t understand English because he just might have died if they heard. He could feel the heat radiating from his nape to his cheeks, putting his hands up in defense like it could keep Angie away from him.

“Wh-no! We weren’t, we weren’t kissing, Reagan, w-we-!”

Angie only cackled, her amusement stemming more from Jacob’s panicked response than the actual accusation of giving him a kiss. “Yeah, cowboy, you can kiss me later.” She winked and nudged him with her elbow as she walked past to where Mibao was waiting.

He groaned, tugging the hat down as far as it would go even if that meant obscuring his vision somewhat. That was totally fine, he didn’t want to look at anyone right now and he did not want to be perceived either. The child was leading them back over to her designated play area scattered with art supplies and stuffed toys for where they’ll play their game of make believe. Angie was already sitting on her knees by the time he shuffled over and beckoned him with a sly smile to come take a seat on the ground next to her. Jacob obliged, but refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing his beet red face.

As soon as they were settled, Mibao immediately launched into the exposition of the scene they would be putting on, including their roles and superpowers (that only she had because she was a magical fairy queen). Jacob was only half listening; the kid usually forgot half of her own rules in the middle of playing anyways because she wanted to change the story and it wasn’t that hard to follow her game of make believe. Instead, he kept side-eying Angie, who was side-eying him back, and every time they made eye contact she would smile and bump his shoulder with hers.

This was going to be a long playdate.

--

The lab door slid open as Talan walked in, peeling off his bloodied gloves to dispose of them in Ylva’s waste bin. “I need my human back.”

“Aw, why? They’re all having a ball together!” Ylva frowned, gesturing to the miniature trio on her desk. Well, the smallest one and Talan’s pet seemed like they were having a good time, namely at the expense of the other human in a hat. They all seemed to stop at the interruption, his human fixing him with a sneer that he was tempted to match.

“What the fuck is it wearing?” He asked, ignoring all the little protests he got when he grabbed it and plucked the stupid looking feather thing of its head. “I thought you said it’s not nice to torment the humans.”

Edix scoffed at him, though his annoyance was more from Talan being in his general vicinity than anything. “It’s not torment. They were having fun.”

Talan did not look convinced in the slightest, his eyes sweeping over the pup who was pouting at him for taking away its playmate and the other who froze any time he breathed in its direction. Like owner, like pet, he assumed as it seemed to unconsciously inch closer to where Edix’s hand was resting for a better sense of security. Pathetic. At least his pet had a bit more self respect and wasn’t afraid to try and stab him in the hand with his own tools. Of course, it got a sharp flick to the stomach to knock it off, but he could appreciate the gumption.

Talan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, looks like a real party. So sad to have missed it.”

“Like you’ve ever been to a party to know what it looks like.”

“Says the one that only hangs out with plants.”

“Okay,” Ylva interjected, rising from her chair and scooping up her adorable little human. “You’re right, we should probably wrap this up, Mibao’s going to need a nap soon and she likes to fight her naps when she’s excited.”

That was all the excuse Talan needed to dip out without a formal goodbye, though it didn’t escape the corner of his eye how Edix’s human took a half step forward when he left, almost like it wanted to say something. Even if it did, he wouldn’t have cared. As quickly as he had intruded, Talan disappeared back down the main hall of the fauna department to return to his lab.

Edix stood up as well and tucked the data pad he had been keeping busy with under his arm to keep his hands free. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing how much closer his little pet was standing to him, even if it wasn’t by much, even though it was caused by Talan of all bastards. A win was a win in his book. The hand the human had been partly hiding behind curled easily around it to lift it up, immediately cradling it to his chest as usual. It squirmed for a moment but settled quick enough, a clear sign it was also ready to go back to the lab it was accustomed to. For a social species, the little one always seemed so drained after any playdate Ylva arranged for their pets. Fine by him, it usually meant his human was much more quiet and well behaved once it was back in the solitude of Edix’s company, making for an easier work day.

He used his finger to tilt back the wide brimmed hat it had been using to hide its sweet little face a majority of the playdate, earning him a surprised squeak. With the way its baby cheeks were turning an adorable shade of pink, Edix had a fairly good guess as to why it was trying to avoid everyone’s line of sight. Damn, he should have had Ylva take more pictures, this was way too cute for him. It reached up to quickly pull its shield back down and Edix let it with a laugh, cooing as he tugged at its little vest instead which only made it wriggle in distress. Overdramatic little thing.

“Can I keep this costume?” He asked as he followed behind Ylva who was preparing to put her own pup down for a nap. In reality, it meant she was going to have to play with it for at least another half an hour because, much like him, she was a sucker when it came to her human wanting to play. The difference being that Mibao wanted to do anything from coloring to singing to continuing its game of make believe while Edix’s pet always wanted to play chase.

Ylva smiled and shrugged. “Sure, I mean, it’s not like it’s going to fit the baby. It was printed for its measurements specifically, anyways.” Mibao was proving to be difficult in its refusal to relinquish the shiny wings Ylva had designed at its request, something that Ylva quickly made a game out of by setting her pup on the desk and letting it squeal and run while her hands chased after it. That would tire the kid out in no time. She looked back at his human and giggled. “I don’t think it likes it very much, though.”

Oh yeah, that was obvious from the get go, but it didn’t change the fact that it was way too precious for its own good in this type of outfit. Edix actually quite liked the contrast of the dark brown against its pale skin, even more given the fact that it matched the color of its doe eyes perfectly. It was much more appealing than that splotchy green jacket it was inexplicably attached to. He had a feeling it was going to try and strip out of this outfit as soon as it was back in Edix’s lab, provided he gave it its normal suit and jacket to change into. But...maybe he didn’t have to offer it its spare set of clothes right away. Maybe it would just have to hang around in its little boots and hat for a couple hours longer while he finished up his latest report that was just so important to get done. And maybe he would get constantly distracted by how cute it looked while it was definitely pouting at him for not taking off its costume that it took a little longer than usual to finish his work, which meant it spent even longer pouting under its hat.

Decisions, decisions.

Edix waved his hand dismissively. “It’ll learn to love it.”

“Oh, Eddie, don’t be mean to it,” Ylva laughed, not that seemed bothered by the idea of his pet keeping the outfit on for an extended period of time beyond the playdate. “But send pictures if you do.”

#ask #anon #my writing #g/t writing #g/t fluff #g/t ocs #g/t #giant/tiny #gianttiny #macro/micro #gt #please enjoy ficlet mommy buy for u #ive missed them so much #now we just gotta finish chapter 3 and we're really rockin n rollin #also yes angie likes teasing jacob for obviously having a crush on her #and ALSO YES i forgot angie has short hair so we're gonna pretend its because shes been in captivity for so long that it just grew out #and thats how she could braid it #talan simps rejoice for he is here #unfortunately

[naynah-pinsence]

I haven’t thought about winx since like 2002, but the netflix adaption pissed me off enough to do my own redesigns out of pure spite. 

Short story is that I looked through the wiki galleries, picked out my favorite outfits, and threw them in a blender. Long story under the cut bc I am unable to not write a paragraph of explanations I guess.

So disclaimer, back in the elementary schoolyard arguments of w.i.t.c.h vs winx my bff was firmly team w.i.t.c.h., so i pretended not to like winx and also don’t remember much about it, so i did a real quick scan on the fan wiki to remember things. Soooo some things are probably off the mark? idk. Daphne not included bc didn’t she die? I think she did? Like in a meaningful/sacrificial way to save Bloom? Felt like her being alive again makes the whole thing less dramatic. Maybe I’ll do her in the future? Trix first tho. 

Flora: Nature to Plant Life, bc “nature” is kinda broad. Her fairy form is mostly her initial winx with some enchantrix elements. Her wings are a basic butterfly shape. Also I’m taking plus-size Flora from netflix’s incapable hands. I wanted her wardrobe to be simple, girly, and boho. 

Miele: Don’t think she has an official “Fairy of” title, and wanted it to relate to plants but not be about plants. Kept the six round wings from one of her designs, idk which, but i think it’s her first? Also included her bc she was important to Flora’s growth, and it’s nice to see siblings in media I think. Changed her hair and skin color to look more like she is related to Flora. Kinda like the idea of her being a hot-head. Her wardrobe is mostly Flora’s hand-me-downs.

Bloom: Fairy form is her initial winx with elements from the bloomix form, which I think is one of the only forms to feel even a little bit draconic. I did want to lean into the fairy element more than the dragon element, but still. Her wing shape is basically the same as her first ones, just more of it. Also I put little embers in them. Kept those iconic pants. Overall, she has a sporty wardrobe, the outlier being her princess dress, which is basically a recolored version of her royal mom’s dress. I feel like she plays soccer or something. Also, I think it’d be fun for her to be super stoked about finding out about secret magic powers instead of her being really timid about it at first. 

Roxy: Animals to Beasts, bc that sounds cooler. Cut her hair bc more short hair plz. Also as a kid, I didn’t see Roxy in any episodes, so when I first saw pics of her I thought that she was Bloom. Does she only have the one fairy form? Seems like a waste to do that. Anyway, I swapped out the pink for yellow and purple and extended the lower garment. Let these girls have varied hemlines, I’m begging you. I liked her asymmetrical motif, but not the look really, so I tried to keep that with the skirt placement and strap colors. Her stripes are shaped like claw marks, you know, for the beasts. Her wings are meant to look more angelic/birdlike. I made her a little more casual punk in her wardrobe bc the chain on her pants demanded it. Also, she has a t-shirt from her dad’s juice bar, bc she works there.

Tecna: Technology to Data bc I think it sounds better. Caveman tools are technology, Tecna. Are you the Fairy of the First Wheel?? Her fairy form is basically a detailed version of her first form and pilot episode form. I used the shape of her enchantrix wings, to keep a more classic fairy look. The gem on her suit and her heels are made from nondescript ~glowing science magic~ that is normally cyan in movies. Her wardrobe is e-girl, and bc she doesn’t have a lot of hair to play with I made her an earring and colorful lipstick girl. 

Stella: Shining Sun to Celestial Light, bc her dad is king sun and mom is queen moon, and also isn’t her parent’s marriage like a super important thing for her? So she kinda got both. I played with the idea of a Shining Sun and Mystic Moon form, but that was too much work, so I opted for the two eye colors instead. Also the Ring/Staff of Solaria should have stayed in the series longer. Her fairy outfit is basically the same, but her hair accessories are gold/silver and bejeweled. Made no sense to me that not all of the canonical princesses got crowns. Just Bloom, the secret princess. She gets some streaks of dawn colors on her orange, and her boots/gauntlets are more ribbon-like and lighter in color. Her wings are the most complex shape. Her wardrobe is basically the same as in the show, I think, especially the warmer look. Her princess look is inspired by the hairstyle that Stella wore in the infamous beauty contest episode. Also she has three crowns. Queen.

Aisha: Her outfit is basically the same as her canonical first outfit, but I gave her Musa’s see-through midriff. The wrap-around ribbon never made sense to me, so that had to go. I wanted to show off her stomach, bc I gave her some abs, but the outfit looked wrong without something there, so thanks Musa. Aisha also gets a crown that is shaped like waves. Her wings are similar to Bloom’s: kind of the same just more of them. In fairy and princess form, Aisha’s hair is mostly natural, with some twists. In casual attire, her hair is all twists. I wanted her to be a runner/swimmer, so her warmer outfit is gym clothes, but I gave her a softer/more feminine look for the colder weather.

Musa: Music to Acoustics bc it sounds cooler I guess. I took the headphones of the first look off bc they looked more like earmuffs to me. I kept the red pallet of the first form bc there need to be more red magical girls, but I still used purple elements from her later designs. Mostly bc I like red and purple. I kept the see-through elements of her first form, but bc I changed the silhouette so much it ended up as more than just the midriff. Her wings are very simple, like in her first form, but they’re not as skinny. How she flew with those tiny wings, I’ll never know. Musa read as the team’s tomboy to me, so I tried keeping a more loose and simple shape in all of her clothes. Her formal dress has a Monet print, bc I felt that it was feminine, but not overly girly

#winx #winx club #winx flora #winx miele #winx bloom #winx roxy #winx tecna #winx stella #winx aisha #winx layla #winx musa #my art

[gryffindorcls]

Meant To Be:  Chapter 5 (Comfort)

IT’S DAY FIVE OF LOVESQUARE FLUFF WEEK 2020!!!

(Lol..it’s not, but we can pretend it is.) Thank you @lovesquarefluffweek​ for organizing this event!

Welcome back!  Today’s prompt is “Comfort”.

Enjoy!

—

BEGINNING

<— Previous    Next —->

AO3

FanFiction

Chapter 5: Comfort

Chat Noir didn’t look up when Ladybug swung off into the night. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, so he kept his eyes glued to the piano. Every cell in his body was frozen in place.

Even though it hadn’t been a patrol night, Chat knew his lady would find him in the park. He knew that she would come to him. He knew that she would want to be with him.

Since Stoneheart’s defeat, he could sense the connection that pulsed between their souls, tying their fates together. Sometimes, it was almost as if they could read each other’s minds. He loved that about their relationship.

However, despite the connection he had with his partner, today made him realize that his lady had never actually possessed his whole heart. She only had a piece of it, and the other half of it belonged to another girl. He was now one hundred percent sure that he was hopelessly in love with both Ladybug and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and he had no idea what to do.

When he transformed earlier that night, he thought that playing the piano for Ladybug again would bring him closure. He thought that he would finally know who his heart wanted, but he now had more questions than ever before.

Why did thinking about Ladybug and Marinette suddenly make his brain hurt?

Why did spending time with both girls feel the same?

And why were their eyes so blue?

He closed the lid on the piano and leaned back. Home was the last place that he wanted to be, but he knew that he needed to sleep. He had a photoshoot in the morning, and his make-up artist was getting tired of covering up the rings that were always under his eyes.

After several more minutes of pensive silence, Chat finally mustered the energy to get up and leave. With a heavy sigh, he unsheathed his baton and launched himself onto a rooftop across the street from the park.

Even though he was on the building next door, he did his best to avoid looking at the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery; however, the faint sound of sniffling made him involuntarily turn his attention to the balcony that led to Marinette’s room. When his eyes landed on a small, huddled form that sat alone in the darkness, he began to panic.

A flurry of thoughts raced through his mind. “Marinette is crying. She could get Akumatized. I have to go to her.”

Without hesitation, he leaped onto the adjacent rooftop and wrapped his arms around the sobbing girl. “Shhh, it’s okay, Marinette. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to you. You can cry. No butterflies will visit you tonight. I promise.”

He heard her whimper his name between sobs before collapsing into his embrace. As she continued to cry, he simply held her and stroked her hair.

When the tears finally began to subside, he could feel her breathing begin to slow. Chat gradually loosened his grip until he locked eyes with Marinette. Her unshed tears glistened in the pale moonlight like diamonds at the bottom of the ocean. His heart melted upon seeing the anguish in her expression.

“Chat Noir?” she whispered, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

He gently touched her cheek. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, Princess.”

She gasped. “You called me ‘Princess’.”

“I guess I did,” he chuckled nervously.

“That’s right! You called me ‘Princess’ before my date with Evilustrator. That’s why it sounded so familiar.”

“Oh?”

“A boy called me ‘Princess’ earlier today, and…” Her voice trailed off as a fresh set of tears began to streak down her cheeks.

Doing his best to ignore the pit that had formed in his stomach, Chat carefully wiped some of the tears away with his thumb. “And did this boy...umm...hurt your feelings?”

“No, of course not. He’s incredible. He...we...I...I’m so confused! You just remind me of him, or maybe he reminds me of you. I DON’T KNOW ANYMORE!�� She buried her face in her hands and once again began to cry.

He pulled her back into his arms and rocked her back and forth. “What can I do? Please tell me how I can help you.”

“Stay,” she croaked between sobs.

Chat tightened his hold. “I’m still right here. I’m not going to leave you.”

“I know.”

The crying lasted longer than before. His heart cracked each time he felt her shake in his arms. Knowing that he was the source of her pain made him want to detransform and profess his love, and if it hadn’t been for the image of Ladybug that popped into his brain, he would have. The confusion in his own heart had stopped him from making Marinette feel better, and that made him angry. However, all thoughts regarding his own emotions melted away when the girl in his arms shifted.

“Thank you for staying with me.” She rested her head against his chest.

He nuzzled his cheek on the crown of her head. “You keep saying ‘thank you’. There’s no need to thank me.”

“One should always take the time to thank the valiant knight who comes to her aid.”

“But it’s my duty to help the princess when she’s in trouble.”

“I’m not royalty.”

“You could be.”

She gasped. “I...you...have you said that to me before? A lot has happened today, and everything is starting to blend together. I can’t think straight.”

“If I had, would that be so bad?” The desire to detransform surged again.

Marinette shook her head and touched his cheek. “No, it would actually make everything a lot easier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, Chat.”

“You are always welcome to tell me what’s on your mind. I won’t judge.”

“No, I’m not worried about that, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

She slid out of his arms and pulled her knees close to her chest. “Have you ever been in love with two people at the same time?”

“Yes.” Chat got onto his feet and walked to the edge of the balcony. “I just wish that my heart would tell me what to do.”

She moved next to him. “It’s kind of hard when you’re living in two different love stories at the same time. If only it was like the movies. You know, the ones where two separate plotlines turn out to be the same one in the end?”

“That’d be convenient.”

“Yeah, but that kind of stuff doesn’t happen in real life. I’m starting to learn that ‘happily ever afters’ are just for fairytales.”

“But what if we actually were living in a fairytale?”

“Doubtful. I’m not wearing a big, fluffy dress.”

He laughed. “Hold on. You’re telling me that the only reason you know you’re not in a fairytale is because you’re not wearing a dress right now?”

Marinette scoffed. “Excuse me, but I would one hundred percent be wearing a ballgown if this was in a fairytale. I’m an aspiring fashion designer. Do you really think I’d pass up the chance to get dressed up?”

“And you’re sure that a dress is the only thing that’s missing?”

“Well, I already have a knight and a prince, and both of you keep calling me ‘Princess’. Also, you’re living proof that magic exists in this world, so yeah, I’m just missing the dress.”

“So this boy you were talking to today...is he the prince?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re upset because you love him and someone else?”

“Yeah.”

Chat’s heart pounded against his chest. “And how do you know that you’re in love with this prince of yours?”

She smiled. “I hated him when I first met him. I thought he was spoiled, but I was wrong. He’s actually one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

“What did he do to change your mind?”

“He gave me an umbrella.”

He closed his eyes and allowed his thoughts to return to the front steps of the school on the rainy afternoon where he’d asked Marinette to give him a second chance. “She’s loved me since the beginning.”

“And what about the second person you’re in love with?” he asked, afraid to hear her answer.

She leaned against the railing. “What about him?”

“When did you fall in love with him?”

“When he played me a song that he wrote.”

One name echoed against the walls of his mind. “Luka.”

Chat took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “So, how long have you been in love with the other boy?”

She bit her lip. “I would like to say that it’s a recent development, but I think I’ve been in love with him since I met him. I just didn’t want to admit it because I was head over heels for the prince.”

“Does that mean that you stopped loving the prince for a while?”

“No, my love for him will never go away. When he started dating someone else, I worked hard to ignore my feelings for him, but today I found out that he broke up with his girlfriend. Because I started recognizing my feelings for the other boy, I didn’t think that knowing that bit of information about the prince would make my crush on him come back.”

“But it did?”

“Big-time, and I think he was flirting with me. I’m not sure, but I had the best day with him. When I was with the prince, I almost forgot about the other boy.”

“What made you remember him?”

“It turns out that the prince and the other boy are freakishly alike, but then again, that might just be my mind playing tricks on me. I’ve only gotten two hours of sleep in the past forty-eight hours, and my brain is not functioning properly.”

“Wait...what? Why are you still awake?”

“My mind feels restless. Confused, but restless.”

“You should be sleeping.”

“Are you the mom friend now?”

He crossed his arms. “I’m serious.”

“You can’t make me.” She stuck out her tongue.

Chat snaked his arm around her waist, placed his other arm behind her knees, and swept her off her feet. “Watch me.”

Marinette giggled and secured herself by wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. “Fine. Now that you have me, what’s your plan, kitty-cat?”

“Well, if the princess refuses to go to bed, then her knight will just have to take her there himself. Then, once you are there, I will bid you goodnight so you can sleep for ten hours.”

“As wonderful as that sounds, there’s something I don’t like about your plan.”

“And what might that be?”

She craned her neck so her mouth was next to his ear. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He swallowed. “I think that’s just the exhaustion talking, Marinette.

“It might be, but I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“What if I stayed until you fell asleep?”

“Deal.”

Chat felt his cheeks grow warm when she closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest. He then tightened his grip on her and walked over to the windowed hatch that led to her room. Using his foot, he opened the hatch and gently hopped onto her bed. He peeled back the covers, placed her onto the mattress, and tossed the comforter over her. He then sat at the edge of her bed and looked at the sky through the window.

“What are you doing?” Marinette groaned, turning over in her bed.

He whipped his head in her direction. “I’m waiting for you to fall asleep.”

“I know, but why are you all the way over there?”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

“You know you’re allowed to come over here.”

“But you’re trying to sleep.”

She opened her arms. “And getting a hug from my favorite knight would really help me fall asleep.”

He took a deep breath and crawled across the bed. Once he was close enough, Marinette grabbed him and pulled him close. She ran her fingers through his hair and began to hum a familiar tune.

Chat closed his eyes and listened. “Where did you hear that song?”

“The other boy I fell in love with played it in the park last night,” she said with half-lidded eyes before continuing to hum.

His mind went blank. “But that would mean that she’s in love with…”

“Me,” he whispered.

“Of course it’s you. Who else would it be?”

“How could you possibly know that?”

She buried her face into his chest. “I know more than you think.”

He tried to wrap his mind around her last statement. “What do you mean by that?”

Chat waited for an answer, but the only response he received was the sound of soft, slow breaths. When he pulled away from her embrace, Marinette didn’t move.

“Princess?” he said quietly, “Are you still awake?”

He was once again met with silence.

“She was deliriously tired,” his mind mused while he continued to look at the sleeping beauty in his arms, “She probably didn’t know what she was saying.”

Doing his best to not disturb her, he carefully moved his arm away from Marinette and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. He then opened the hatch and climbed onto the balcony. Before closing the window, he took one last look inside the room.

“Goodnight, Princess,” he whispered, “I’ll see you soon.”

Chat unsheathed his baton and vaulted into the night. He bounded over the rooftops until he was close enough to jump through his bedroom window. Once inside, he detransformed and collapsed onto his couch.

“Plagg,” he groaned, running his fingers through his hair, “Marinette started humming my song again, and then she told me that she was in love with me...like, not just Adrien me, but Chat Noir me, as well.”

The Kwami shoved a piece of cheese into his mouth and landed on Adrien’s shoulder. “And that’s a bad thing because…”

“Because she fell asleep about thirty seconds later! She couldn’t have possibly meant any of the things that she’d just said. Luka is the other boy she’s in love with. Not Chat Noir.”

“Are you serious?”

“The other boy isn’t me. It’s Luka. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Plagg rubbed his temples with his paws. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Adrien sat up. “What are you talking about?”

“This. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Am I supposed to know what “this” is?”

“Yes, but apparently, you don’t. Let’s just hope that Tikki can talk some sense into Ladybug because this has to stop.”

“What does any of this have to do with Ladybug? I was talking about Marinette.”

“You literally have all the pieces to the puzzle. How can you not see it?”

“See what?”

“That’s it!” Plagg flew close to Adrien’s face and jabbed him on the nose. “You’re not even trying. I’m going to sleep, and I suggest you do, as well. Don’t wake me up until you’ve figured it out.”

“Get back here, Plagg!” he yelled as he watched his Kwami disappear into a laundry basket.

“NO! GOODNIGHT, ADRIEN!”

“Fine, goodnight, whatever.”

He rolled his eyes and got ready for bed in a huff. When he crawled under his covers and began to drift off, the events of the past twenty-four hours began to replay in his mind.

***

Marinette’s eyes flicked open. “Tikki, how did I get here?”

“I...what?” her Kwami groaned on the pillow next to her.

“I was on the balcony with Chat Noir. He picked me up, but now I’m in bed.”

“You really don’t remember?”

“No, should I?”

“Chat Noir brought you inside after you asked him to stay with you. Then, you cuddled with him and mumbled a whole bunch of stuff before you passed out.”

“Oh, wait!” She paused before continuing. “I remember now! He tucked me in, but...what did I say to him? What did I say?”

Tikki closed her eyes. “Go to sleep, Marinette.”

“How on earth am I supposed to do that while I’m in the middle of a crisis!”

“I’d hardly call this a crisis.”

“But how am I supposed to choose between Chat and Adrien? How? They are both kind and selfless. I love both of them, Tikki!”

“Marinette…”

“And how am I supposed to pick when I don’t even know who Chat is?”

“Marinette…”

“This would all be so much easier without the masks in the way.”

“Marinette…”

“If only there was a way to know who he was.”

“MARINETTE!”

She looked at her Kwami. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Tikki zipped over to Marinette’s face. “You are going to listen to what I’m about to say. I’ve been trying to tell you this all day, and you’ve interrupted me every single time. Just be quiet and listen!”

Marinette hugged her legs against her chest. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. I just need you to listen.”

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Now that you are the Guardian, it is your right to know who all of the Miraculous wielders are, and that includes Chat Noir.”

“You���re not suggesting what I think you are...are you?”

“Yes, I am. I am asking you to seriously consider having you and Chat reveal your identities to each other.”

“But you always said…”

“Things have changed.”

“But…”

“No buts! Just consider it, please. I’m begging you. Put us out of our misery. Plagg and I are way too old for this.”

“Aren’t you as old as time itself?”

Tikki flopped onto her pillow. “Yes, and that’s entirely too old to be dealing with this!”

She rolled her eyes and gently patted the top of her Kwami’s head. “If it means that much to you, I will think about it.”

“Thank you,” Tikki sighed, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she chuckled.

Marinette laid back down and closed her eyes. Despite her best efforts to fall asleep, her mind continued to buzz with activity for the next hour. The thought of knowing Chat’s identity filled her with immeasurable joy. When she suddenly realized that her cheeks were hurting because she’d been smiling for so long, she made her decision.

She was going to reveal her identity to Chat Noir...tomorrow.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #adrienette #marichat #SO MUCH MARICHAT #it's an adrienette story but this is a marichat chapter #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #my fic #Meant To Be #chapter 5 #comfort #lovesquarefluffweek2020 #fluff #fluffy hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #cuddles #ao3 #fanfiction

[enchanted-prose]

#12 A Bloody Ballad

and with this fic, I have officially crossed into the 60,000 word count territory. I've also decided that I will finish this ficlet series by July 14th and submit it to Jennifer Nielsen’s fan content competition.

Word count: 5,715

Characters: Jaron, Mott, Jolly (Original character who deserves lute rights), Lord Thomas Row (a babey and original character), Merry (Original character), Commander Regar (Original character), Roden, Tobias, Renlyn (Original character), Princess Amarinda, Imogen (this one’s a reAL party)

Notes: This was creepy even for me to write, so that’s your warning. Edited and ready to be read!

Enjoy!

The sneezing never stopped.

Always sneezing.

And it was all that cat’s fault.

Jaron rubbed his eyes. It wasn’t the cat’s fault, it was his. He should’ve thought about his reaction to the cat when Renlyn managed to sell it to him. Cat hair was everywhere.

But by the Saints, nothing could best the smile Imogen had when she held that kitten on her lap.

He didn’t mind silent suffering if it meant Imogen’s happiness.

Her secret smiles filled his head. The way her hand sought his whenever they were near each other kept his feet planted on solid ground. Jaron knew that Imogen’s mere presence gave him the focus to solve every puzzle at his fingertips.

However, it went deeper than that.

Imogen insisted on looking him over each time he got into trouble. She had no qualm about staying up until the early hours of the morning when memories of Avenia plagued him. Her love came in gentle forms; she brought him deftly spun bracelets, a spoonful of sweet pastry dough, ruffled his hair with flour covered fingers.

He could sneeze for a millennia for her.

With each passing day, his stance seemed more and more likely.

Did the Saints sneeze?

Energy burst through him without a warning. Jaron stood up, nearly knocking his chair to the floor. He snatched the letter he’d been reading and began to pace. King Kippenger was sending a representative to discuss the situation Avenia was in.

There was nothing Jaron wouldn’t do to assist an ally, save abdicating the throne and a few other atrocious acts of course. He was prepared to give aid to Avenia in any shape.

He was prepared to send his best military leaders to action if needed.

His mind instantly began thinking about what news Kippenger’s representative would be bringing. The path he walked was familiar. It gave him space to think outside of his normal routine. To the corner, to the door, to the shelf, back to the desk.

Thomas Row, that was the representative’s name. A farmer raised to nobility after demonstrating his loyalty not only to Avenia, but to Kippenger during the first months of his reign.

Carthya’s harvests over the past four years had been wondrous, and a new push for education thanks to Amarinda and Tobias. Feall was working with Roden, and Jaron was confident that Feall would make a capable temporary replacement should Roden be sent to Avenia.

The pieces were in place. Jaron could play this figurative chess game and win.

He was juggling what would happen if Avenia wouldn’t accept his help and what he would have to do to protect his own people.

Would it really be worth it to keep a Carthyan influence in Avenia if it only forced Avenians even further away from good relations?

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

To many outcomes, not enough stable variables.

Think, think, think.

What could he do if Avenian relations soured?

Bymar would come to help, Jaron was certain of it. Mendenwal would likely come as well, and maybe even Gelyn, though the latter would likely have ill intentions. He could always completely withdraw Carthyan aid as a last resort.

A very last resort.

Why, oh why couldn’t Thomas Row be there, knocking at the door?

Jaron rubbed his watering eyes, and returned to his desk. One letter down, countless others to go. He inched his chair backwards, inched his chair forwards, and wished he had a chair that spun in a circle.

Saints, it wasn't even noon and he was already bored.

He’d managed to read through ten letters when somebody finally came to check in on him.

“Mott!” Jaron stood up, this time successfully knocking over his chair. “Thank the Saints, I wanted to ask you if-”

“No, I will not let you use a shield as a sled and ride down the grand staircase,” Mott’s brows lowered into a solid line.

Jaron broke into a wicked grin, “Good idea, but that’s not what I was going to ask. You read Kippenger’s letter, no?”

“Haven’t had much to do but read since the attack.”

“Do you have any- oh.”

During the Avenian war, Mott had received a wound that would’ve killed him if not for Tobias’s skill as a doctor. The wound prevented Mott from fighting his way through a battle.

The wicked grin Jaron sported faded into a deep frown. He wanted to be a good king, a just man who sought out justice rather than revenge.

It was a well kept secret that Mott’s ghost wound flared up. A well kept secret that the fight with the Faola who attacked Feall was responsible for the ghost pains.

But Jaron knew, he knew about Mott’s pain.

And if it weren’t for Imogen and Tobias, he would’ve taught the Faola a lesson they’d never forget.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” muttered Jaron, tossing through the emotions pulsing through his veins.

Anger, grief. Anger, grief. Anger, grief, and frustration.

Did nobody care how hard he was trying? Was that why there was still crime plaguing the streets of Drylliad?

“Not exactly, but I do appreciate the sentiment,” Mott shifted on his feet. “I did read Kippenger’s letter, and I dispatched a series of spies to try to locate his representative.”

“Did you find anything out?”

“As a matter of fact, I did, although the information came from someone who’s not one of ours.”

Oh?

Jaron motioned for Mott to continue, “Is it reliable information?”

“From a friend’s perspective, yes. However, from a ruler’s perspective there’s a series of holes in the story,” explained Mott. “My informant, ah, has a history of lute playing, colorful clothing, and pursuing every vice he can.”

“Please don’t tell me-”

“Jolly is my informant.”

He didn’t mean to snicker. He didn’t mean for that snicker to turn into a fit of laughter. Jaron coughed into his fist, trying his best to mask his grinning, “Jolly is your informant? The man who sings about floral crowns and otherworldly romances?”

Mott was all too serious as he nodded. “Considering that he not only found Thomas Row in Avenia, he also managed to bring him here, I’d give him a bit more credit.”

“Lord Thomas Row is here!? When did he arrive!? Why wasn’t I informed!?”

“He requested to stay at an inn rather than in the castle, said he wanted to be with the army that accompanied him.”

“By the toes of every Saint, I have to meet with him,” Jaron bolted to the door, froze as his hand hovered above the handle, and turned back to face Mott. “Would you like to come with me?”

“Perhaps,” Mott said. “I have several things that require my attention, but I don’t suppose you’d be opposed to helping me with my duties.”

More chores?

More papers to read?

Jaron shrugged, “You can’t tell anyone, otherwise they’ll always come to me to help push papers around. I have duties of my own.”

“As do I.”

“To the Devils’ with duty then, I’m the king, my word is law.”

With a few catches, of course, but Jaron didn’t need to explain that. It would’ve diminished his perfect excuse for abandoning the papers on his desk.

All he needed was a quick stop at his chambers to change his clothing. He’d be able to blend in with the crowd well enough in a pair of shabby trousers. It was a slight miracle that he hadn’t been recognized yet.

He was feeling more comfortable once he’d dressed in a patched shirt and ragged shoes.

Although when he stood next to Mott, who was still dressed plainly according to the royal court’s ridiculous standards, he looked like a pickpocket.

Once a thief, always a thief.

The courtyard was bustling with life. Horses were being led to shadier pastures outside the castle. Sheets and sheets hung on lines as they dried in the sun. Roden was yelling at a group of soldiers.

Everything was as it should be. Jaron was grateful for the false security the routine brought.

He would be a fool not to acknowledge that there was something not quite right anymore.

Like a right shoe being ever so slightly bigger than the left. Like a spoon and fork sharing the same engraved design, only the spoon was missing a line.

Quiet yet obvious once found.

“Tell me about the army Thomas Row brought,” Jaron asked, stepping over a laundress’s large bar of soap.

“It’s a hired army,” Mott wiped his nose. The smell of heavy duty soap wasn’t the sweetest scent. “The army’s lead by a man called Commander Regar, I suspect his men are mostly Bymarian and Gelynian.”

“Ah, mercenary armies. They’re too unpredictable for my taste.”

“One could argue that you’re also too unpredictable for  different peoples’ tastes.”

“I don’t give my loyalties to the highest bidder; mercenaries do.”

In fact, Jaron didn’t think the mercenary armies so favored by nobility were worth their cost. The mercenaries were little more than bandits who could play the game of life a little smarter.

It was far better to find men willing to fight for something they loved rather than men who fought for coin.

“Market day should be a success,” Mott noted, gesturing to the various stands that had popped up overnight.

Jaron shrugged, “I’m hoping for a large supply of peaches this time. The peaches at last market day were full of worms.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to wait two days to see the peaches yourself.”

“Think I should have Roden pray for my peaches and their health?”

“Don’t be sacrilegious.”

Ah, market day was a thief’s dream. Hundreds of vendors came with their goods to sell, and security could only protect so many. Jaron had taken advantage of market days as a child. He rarely returned to Mrs. Turbeldy’s Home for Disadvantaged Boys with his hands empty after market day. Sometimes, he got lucky. Sometimes he was able to steal enough food to feed himself for a few days.

Though the anxiety that constantly tugged at his lungs made him wonder.

Made him think.

Made him realize that maybe this market day would be unlike the others.

Perhaps he should get somebody to pray about it.

Thomas Row was staying at the Traveler’s Inn, which meant a short walk for Jaron and Mott. . . If Thomas was there. And as fate would have it, Thomas wasn’t. He was at the Dragon’s Keep, catching up with a certain brightly colored troubadour.

Jaron could hear the lute playing long before he saw the Dragon’s Keep. Jolly’s clear tenor voice sailed through the tavern’s open windows.

There was blood in the kitchen

And blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

There was no way that tune was Carthyan, Jaron would’ve remembered a ballad that violent.

“After you,” Jaron said, holding the door open for Mott.

“On the contrary, after you Jaron.”

“No, after you.”

It took several more ‘after you!’s before Mott finally conceded and walked into the Dragon’s Keep with Jaron trailing behind him.

Stepping into the Dragon’s Keep was like stepping into a warm cloud.Men and women crammed around almost every table. There was no set uniform among them, although several people wore thick, knee-length skirts with knotted patterns. Jolly was sitting on a table flanked by a man playing a large set of pipes and a woman playing a tin flute. Jolly’s tenor voice took on a thick Bymarian accent; the chords he played turned sour:

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

And blood on her Majesty, Lady Ingrithay

A heart in her right hand, dagger in the other

Ye can’t outrun yer mother

She is yer judgement day

Jaron shivered.

Ye can’t outrun yer mother

She is yer judgement day

“That’s him, Lord Row,” Mott said, gesturing to a man in humble clothes sitting a few tables away from Jolly and the other musicians.

Lord Thomas Row was a plain man, save for his head of wiry, black braids. His white shirt flared down his arms and cinched around his wrists.

Cinched around one of his wrists.

One of his wrists?

Lord Row had a right hand, but the left one ended in an elegant, covered hook.

“Sir Mott! It is good to see you!” Lord Row bellowed, and he lunged to embrace Mott. “It’s been too many years!”

“Yes it has, Tom, yes it has,” Mott clapped Row’s back.

Jaron tried to stop the squirming unease that came when watching a pair of old friends reunite.

Once Row had broken off his embrace, he took a long look at Jaron. “Is this-?”

“It is, no need for names, my friend, I came here to make your acquaintance before rushing into talks of politics,” Jaron said, extending his right hand. “Sometimes they get messy, I’d rather be friends than enemies. And forgive my dress, I find it’s easier to slip through crowds when not wearing a jeweled tunic.”

“There’s no need for forgiveness, I wholeheartedly agree, and I sincerely hope you don’t become my enemy, your Majesty.”

“Please, call me Jaron.”

“I accept your invitation of friendship,” Row bowed his head. “Jaron.”

“By the Saints can he change this ballad?” Mott grumbled as Jolly launched into a new verse.

Ye can run, ye can run

But lady, o’lady

Yer time’s almost done

Sing like a bird, say what you say

O’lady yer the one

To stop dear Ingrithay

Blood in the-

“No! Don’t touch my lute you insufferable imp!” Shouted Jolly as he launched off the table.

Jaron let out a sigh of relief, “Find whoever stole the lute and bring them to me, I’ll give them a knighthood.”

“The ballad isn’t that bad,” muttered a man from Row’s table.

“On the contrary, I think it is.”

“Ignore old Regar, he’s sympathetic for Bymarian ballads,” Row waved his hook at the man who’d spoken.

Regar held up his hand in greeting, but chose to drink the contents of his tankard than say hello.

“It’s not exactly a song for dancing,” Mott pointed out. “It’s Bymarian, you say?”

Row nodded, “I’ve heard it multiple times on my journey here. Regar’s men are mostly from Idunn Craich, it’s been interesting hearing their tales, they’re much bloodier than tales from Bultain.”

“Only recent ones,” Regar said, having finally finished his drink. He dragged his hand across his bearded face and smiled, “Commander Regar, I am honored to be in your presence, Majesty.”

Jaron made a face, but nodded in return.

He hated it when people called him Majesty.

That’s what people called their prettiest mares, Saints be cursed.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Jaron said. “Sort of.”

“Thank you, I think.” Regar nodded his head. His eyes were elsewhere, and soon he was sitting again, nursing his tankard.

“See something you don’t like, Commander Regar?”

He didn’t answer.

“Regar isn’t the most spirited at this time, return in a few hours and he’ll be singing with our mutual friend Jolly,” Row said, setting his hook on Jaron’s shoulder. He steered both Jaron and Mott away from the table. “Jaron, may I ask how your day has gone?”

“Oddly average, if I must be honest,” Jaron said, still looking at Regar.

“Ah, I must say the same, as average as riding can be.”

Mott chuckled, “That’s good news, I’d hate to know there were troubles with your travels, Row.”

His head was racing. Put the pieces together, put the pieces together! Regar was several inches taller than Jaron, and from his standpoint, could probably see more than Jaron could. From Regar’s eye-level, he could see the other side of the tavern, which was much emptier.

Bar maids dashed to and fro trying to appease every customer they could.

One of them was serving drinks while keeping a lute free from Jolly’s hands. Green scarf in her bushy hair. Jolly’s ballad echoed through Jaron’s mind.

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

Something was staring at him, right in the face.

It plagued him as he sat at the bar, listening to the bloody Bymarian ballads, and trying to weasel his way into Mott’s conversation with Lord Row.

He rubbed his eyes, which had finally stopped burning now that he’d left his cat hair covered office.

Aside from Lord Row and discussing Avenian policies, there were other matters to take care of. Among that never ending list of problems to be solved was the Faola attack on Feall.

It took numerous questions from Feall, Roden, Amarinda, and himself to firmly conclude that the girl who’d been arrested wasn’t responsible. She was simply doing the wrong things, got involved with the wrong people, and got caught at the wrong time.

But Feall had suggested bargaining with her. Bargaining with Ayvar, a criminal.

It wasn’t the worst deal Jaron had to make.

He promised Ayvar her freedom and a pardon for banditry if she was able to help them catch the culprit. She swore on her own false grave in Gelyn that she would keep her word, and was prepared to act immediately if needed.

Ayvar would remain a prisoner but would be moved to a tower room. She would be given ample food, water, and blankets.

All she needed to do was be prepared for when she was needed.

It was a game, and Jaron didn’t mind playing games.

He only hoped that he’d win this time.

Too many times had he gambled and lost, resulting in disastrous consequences and a pile of innocent victims. This time, it would be different. He would catch a Faola, and in the process, drive away all the others.

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

Jaron rubbed his eyes. The words to Jolly’s song refused to leave.

It seemed that even thinking of Jolly caused him to appear. “Headache, sir?”

“No, no, I bought a cat from Renlyn Karise, turns out I don’t do well when cats are around,” Jaron confessed.

Jaron didn’t want to admit that he was thankful for Jolly’s company; he didn’t want to admit that Mott was talking to Lord Row much better than he was.

“Ah, Renlyn,” Jolly held a hand over his heart. “The envy of every man and their wives. A beauty and a wickedly intelligent woman.”

“Imogen mentioned that you knew her, how did the pair of you meet?”

Jolly’s blush matched the pink details on his blue jerkin, “Ah, well, I was one of the fools who chased after Ren for her golden curls. I thought I was clever by tricking her into a gambling game. . .”

“And?”

“And I lost everything. She gave it back, of course, but I learned my lesson. Karise is a force to be reckoned with, and a fierce friend. But she’s good at every kind of game.”

Especially the game of How Much Money can Jaron Waste on a Cat?

“And you know Merry, as well,” Jaron noted, gesturing to the girl in question as she dragged a box of dirty dishes to the back room. “How?”

“It’s not my story to tell,” Jolly scratched his mass of black hair. “I’m sure you could ask her about it one day, not sure how much luck you have.”

“I’ve heard plenty about her, believe me. Roden, ah, Roden gets easily excited when he’s on the bottle.”

“Yes, yes he does.”

“And how do you know Roden?”

“You know what,” Jolly made a face. “I’m not quite sure, we were speaking in a tavern and he’s always been a friend of mine. Wrote a ballad about him, and a ballad about Renlyn. I have a ballad I’m writing about-”

“Don’t say it’s about me and Imogen.”

“-you and Imogen.”

“By the toes of all the Saints,” Jaron pinched his nose. “At least make it a good one.”

“I can sing it right now!” Jolly bounced away from the bar, swinging his lute into action.

Jaron’s eyes went wide as Jolly began strumming each chord, tuning them all to perfection. He began plucking out the first few notes, which led to a series of slowly strummed chords. Jolly heaved in a breath, preparing to sing, when out of nowhere a pair of hands shot out and stole the lute.

“You’re in timeout!” Merry said, cradling the lute in her arms. “You sang Ingrithay too many times, you’ll lose your voice!”

“Merry, Merry, quite contrary, you tug my- that’s actually a wonderful rhyme,” Jolly made a face, nodding ever so slowly.

In silence, Jaron pressed his hands together and bowed his head, grateful for Merry’s interference. She winked at him in return.

She patted Jolly’s shoulder, “That’s right, my tortured artist, think about your songs, and drink something warm. Can I get anything for you gentlemen?”

“I’ve heard the lemon tarts here are very nice,” Jaron said, exchanging a sneaky grin with Mott.

That wasn’t the only thing they’d heard.

“And for you, Lord Row?” Merry cradled the lute in one arm, and set her free hand on her hip.

“I’m quite well, thank you,” Lord Row flashed a smile. “I’ll be certain to call for you should anything change.”

“I’ll do my best to answer that call, sir.”

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Blood in the bathtub

Blood on the walls

No, no. Not the rhyme again.

He hated not having all the answers. He hated knowing that there was something lurking in his future.

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

“This stuff, really?” Tobias asked, gesturing to the bottle not far from Roden’s reach.

As much as he tried, Lord Thomas Row was more concerned with checking in on Commander Regar’s men, and opted to save their discussion for a few days later.

Meaning Jaron had nothing to do for an entire evening.

His first instinct was to snuggle up to Imogen, or do something silly like cover her eyes and guide her through the castle. However, his attempt to steal her away came too late: Amarinda had commandeered Imogen and Renlyn for an evening ride in the woods with Feall and Mott as chaperones.

His second instinct was to pester Roden into doing something fun, but when he entered Roden’s usually clean office, he knew he was gravely mistaken.

Pieces of fabric and at least one of Roden’s shirts were scattered about the floor. He and Tobias were arguing about something, but the argument came to a grating halt when Jaron walked in.

“Be quiet Tobias, you need loads of spirits to be a seamstress,” Jaron wrinkled his nose. “Let Roden embrace his dreams.”

“I’m not becoming a seamstress!” Roden crossed his arms, his frown rivaling the gargoyles on Drylliad’s biggest cathedral.

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Then why do you have a pair of shears in your hand and fabric on your lap?” Jaron sauntered over to Roden’s desk, sat in his chair, and kicked his heels up. “I can arrange for you to get more pretty things if you’d like.”

Roden perked up, “Really? I mean, no! That’s not what I want!”

“Oh he definitely wants pretty things,” Tobias pointed out. He’d picked up the bottle on Roden’s desk. “This is definitely stronger than what I’m used to trying.”

As Roden curled over his piece of fabric, Jaron looked to Tobias, and both exchanged a snicker.

If he couldn’t convince Roden to ride a shield like a sled down the grand staircase, Jaron would make fun of him till he reacted. That would be worth it.

Tobias looked at Roden, who was cursing his scissors, and made an outline of- of a bell?

Jaron squinted at him, shrugged, and shook his head. What could he do with a bell? What- oh! Tobias was making the outline of a skirt, not a bell. Ah! Jaron could work with skirt jokes.

“You know, I hear Bymarian women wear dresses with slits so they can move,” Jaron rubbed his nose. “I’m sure Amarinda can get you one.”

“No, no, that wouldn’t work,” Roden waved his hand, and didn’t bother looking back.

Looking for reassurance, Jaron looked at Tobias, who was sniffing the contents of Roden’s bottle of spirits. He made a face as the fumes escaped. No reassurance from him.

There had to be a way to upset Roden. “Are you more of a skirt person?”

He paused and straightened. “I suppose I am.”

Once again, Jaron looked to Tobias. This time, Tobias was prepared with a confused shrug.

“Are you- are you being serious?” Jaron leaned forwards. He’d heard of men wearing skirts into battle. By the Devils, even some of Regar’s men wore skirts. He just hadn’t expected Roden to suddenly take a stance on the trend.

“I don’t really mind what a girl wears,” Roden looked back to glare at Jaron. “Why are you asking me this?”

“I was talking about you wearing a dress, you oaf.”

Roden pointed his scissors at Jaron, “No. I’m not playing this game, I’m in a good mood.”

“Good mood? I’d like to change that.”

“Jaron, nothing you could do could change that. I have the evening off and-”

“Are you making dish rags for the kitchen staff?” asked Jaron, now resting his chin on his hands and his elbows on Roden’s desk. “No, Tobias, don’t drink that. I need somebody on my side in case Roden plays dirty.”

Unfortunately, Tobias was looking to do something foolish too. Jaron could hear him draining Roden’s bottle of spirits.

Dear Saints, he was causing a circus.

Good!

“I’m not going to fight y-,” Roden tried, but Jaron was eager to do something incredibly foolish.

“You’re making hair scarves for Merry, aren’t you?”

Aha! He’d hit a nerve!

“So?” Roden grumbled, curling back over his fabric. “I like seeing her ears. One of them has this-”

“Boring!” Jaron jumped to his feet, and walked over to a fine square of red fabric. “You want to know what would make these all prettier? Tobias, you’re going to pass out.”

“I think I deserve a quick nap,” Tobias argued, setting down the now half-empty bottle of spirits. “Jaron, don’t do something stupid, remember what we said about being kind.”

Oh yes, Jaron remembered that deep discussion. Something about being considerate for others and not pestering people until they reacted in a negative way. During the conversation, Tobias pointed out that perhaps Jaron wasn’t used to receiving any verbal or physical attention, which was likely the cause of Jaron’s desire to punch Roden as hard as he could during the most obscure times.

Unfortunately, Tobias’s statements were too close to home. During the next large banquet, Jaron made sure to punch Tobias as hard as he could rather than Roden.

He’d certainly gotten an earful from Imogen after that.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Roden growled, slowly rising to a stance to attack.

Jaron raised his foot above the red square of fabric, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m warning you. Don’t do-”

“What, this?”

His intention was to bring his boot down on the red square of fabric and leave a massive footprint, but he wasn’t sure if he accomplished his goal. Roden had launched himself right at Jaron, sending both of them careening across the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey! I’m a little guy! It’s my birth- hey!” Jaron cried out trying to wriggle out of Roden’s deathgrip.

“I told you not to touch the fabric!” Roden roared.

Jaron felt his feet touch the ground for a split second, and then he was hurled over Roden’s shoulder. Completely unfair. He refused to stand for it. Jaron kicked his legs like a fish, grabbed the back of Roden’s tunic, and tumbled to the ground.

He barely managed to roll away from Roden’s swinging foot.

“Oh, the fabric,” Tobias murmured. “It’s so pretty.”

“Quick-” Jaron dodged a flying fist “-question! What was in the bottle?”

Roden lunged, successfully grabbing Jaron by the left leg and dragging him to the ground. “It’s from Libeth!”

Now that wasn’t good at all. Libeth had some of the wildest alcohol brewers in the entire kingdom. Supposedly, they made a liquor strong enough to remove barnacles from sea vessels.

And how much had Tobias drank?

“He was-,” Tobias hiccuped and wiped his eyes. “Roden was making little hair scarves-,” another hiccup. “Making hair scarves for Murry. Little scarves, oh dear Saints, this boy can only wield a sword, bless him in these days as he-”

“Shut up Tobias!” Jaron and Roden yelled.

By the Devils! Roden had the upper hand again! Jaron was all too aware of Roden’s hand holding both of his wrists, which meant only one thing.

“Please, Roden, I beg you, it was just a joke!’ Jaron whimpered, trying to weasel out of his grip.

No, no, no.

The first time Jaron and Roden had gotten into a physical fight ended the same way, with Jaron unable to move and Roden prepared to deliver the finishing blow.

“I just wanted to cut up fabric!” Roden argued. “Tobias and I were doing fine before you barged in!”

“I was bored! Please don’t do this!”

“You could’ve helped with the fabric!”

“I wasn’t that bored!” Jaron squirmed again. “Please, Saints, no. No! Ah!”

The finishing blow was the worst part of the fight. Roden had licked his little finger, and shoved it into Jaron’s ear.

Although, now there was a third party involved.

Tobias flung his arms around both Roden and Jaron, tears streaming down his face. “I love you both with my whole heart, honest to the Saints. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Can you get Roden to take his nasty hands off of my body!?” Jaron bellowed, yanking his head free from Roden’s little finger.

“Does the baby need a nap?” Roden cooed.

Oh, ho, ho, Roden was remembering old exchanged insults. Jaron unsuccessfully tried to escape, but to no avail. Roden hooked his arms beneath Jaron’s knees, and swung him up into his arms, while still keeping a drunken Tobias on his feet.

“Put me down!”

“Not until you apologize!”

“Roden?”

“Yes?”

“Rot with the Devils, you clotpole.”

Tobias’s quiet tears turned into sobs as he wrapped his arms around Jaron and Roden once again. “Little hair scarves.”

It was quite the scene to walk into: Roden holding Jaron like a baby, Tobias sobbing like he’d learned he would die soon, and bits of cut up colorful fabric covered the floor. It just so happened that Amarinda’s night ride finished early.

They didn’t look pleased.

The disappointment in Mott’s eyes was an all too familiar sight.

“I can explain,” Jaron croaked, finally realizing that he’d lost the fight.

A fight that he started.

“It looks like a dress shop in here,” Mott clasped his hands behind his back, Amarinda, Renlyn, and Imogen trailing behind him.

Roden practically dropped Jaron on the floor. “I was trying to make something, and then Jaron showed up.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to hit me,” argued Jaron. He grunted when Tobias set his head on Jaron’s shoulder, and refused to move. “Get off of me!”

The only answer Tobias gave was a new wave of silent tears, and a fresh set of apologies.

Mott’s face didn’t betray a single emotion. “Weren’t you going to meet with Lord Row?”

“He moved the meeting back, and I happened to finish my work this evening, and didn’t want to be alone.”

“So you picked a fight with Roden?”

Jaron scowled, he realized how foolish he’d been in starting the fight. A conversation wouldn’t have been enough for him, there was too much energy bursting through his body.

“These are pretty,” Amarinda held up an opaque piece of yellow fabric.

“Don’t worry, I’m not making myself a skirt,” grunted Roden, his hands full of different fabric squares.

“Were you putting something together?”

“I finished, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“He was-,” Tobias hiccuped. “He was making tiny, tiny scarves. For Merry, to wear.”

There hadn’t been a time when Tobias had been so drunk before, or at least there hadn’t been a time Jaron could remember.

Amarinda sighed, and transferred Tobias’s head from Jaron’s shoulder to her own.“Oh, darling, what did you do this time?”

“They were fighting, and I’ve had it.”

Amarinda patted the side of Tobias’s head, her eyes boring into Jaron’s very soul. However, she gave no biting remarks, she only wrapped her arm around Tobias’s waist. Together, they inched towards the door.

Her smile was forced. “I’ll be taking him to our chamber, I don’t want him doing something foolish.”

“Is that from Libeth?” Imogen asked, gesturing to the bottle on Roden’s desk.

However, before anyone could give a clear answer, Renlyn took a large swig from the bottle, set it down, and frowned. “That batch was weak.”

“You know what?” Jaron crossed his arms. “I don’t think I want to know. Jolly told me about your tendencies.”

“Is that an invitation for me to take over the kingdom through a gambling match?”

“Absolutely not, I’ve been warned, and I won’t ever concede to your money games again.”

“That’s what they all say.”

By the Saints! Jaron scowled at Renlyn, who had the audacity to remain completely placid. He knew deep in his heart that he’d have to do something worse than terrorize Roden to get a reaction out of the notorious Renlyn Karise.

Imogen raised her hands, “Ah, we should take the energy down a notch, don’t you think?”

“Jaron started it!”

“I know Roden, I usually start things, unlike you.”

“Jaron!” Everyone chorused, followed by Tobias’s slurred agreement.

“What!?” Jaron crossed his arms, screwing his face into the fiercest scowl he could.

He’d rather be lectured than think of those cursed lyrics.

There was blood in the kitchen

There was blood in the halls

Jaron would rather hear complaints and be tossed around like a child’s doll than consider what fate had in store for him.

He wasn’t ready yet.

He just wasn’t ready.

#fic friday #prince jaron #roden #tobias #mott #princess amarinda #imogen #ocs #so many ocs #the ascendance series #fic friday except its saturday #also this was #too creepy #but so fun #the false prince #the runaway king #the shadow throne

[ellanainthetardis]

I just had a very random prompt idea, in one of you older prompts you talked about how hayffie are all cute in public cause they couldn't when they were younger and that like peeta and Katniss didn't get that. So I was wondering if you could do a fic where like they talk to the kids about it or something. Only if you want

Here you go! [X]

Warm & Content

Effie woke up warm and content. Shesmiled before she even opened her eyes, pressing her face against Haymitch’shair. It faintly smelled like her shampoo because the man had no personal spaceand didn’t understand different types of hair needed different types ofshampoos, he always grabbed the first bottle that fell under his hand. He letout a low hum in the back of his throat and she smiled harder, shutting hereyes again, too comfortable to move.

They had fallen asleep on thecouch somehow, probably because neither of them had gotten any real sleep thenight before, plagued by their respective nightmares. She had never taken thatsort of spontaneous naps in the middle of the day before she had come to livein Twelve but, then again, she would never have still been in pajamas at threea.m. before she had come to live in Twelve either. She had borrowed one ofHaymitch’s flannel shirts and she was wearing the sweatpants he had gifted herwith on a whim, they had little golden crowns on them and had obviously beendesigned for a teenager but he found it hilarious and she was more than skinnyenough to fit in them. Haymitch wasn’t dressed either but that wasn’t unusual.He had never bothered with a shirt and was only wearing frayed pajamas pants.

He was lying on his side, hishead nestled in the crook of her shoulder, his right arm was probably numbtrapped between their bodies and his other one was holding fast to her waist,his hand somehow under her shirt and on the warm skin of her side. She was onher back, her legs folded and wedged against his stomach and his own bent legs…He must have tossed the couch’s throw blanket over them at some point becausethey were both covered up to their waists.

Warm and content.

There were worse ways to spendthe day.

“Go back to sleep.” he mumbled.

“If we go back to sleep now wewill never fall asleep tonight and we will end right back here tomorrowafternoon.” she pointed out.

“So what?” he snorted. “Not thatbad.” Not that bad but not very normal and functional and she was desperatelytrying to stick to a routine in the vain hope she would feel more like her oldself. His thumb deliberately brushed the scar on her side as if he knew exactlywhat she was thinking about. “One day at a time, sweetheart.”

He nuzzled her neck and shecouldn’t help a giggle. She tried to push him away without much conviction.“You are all scratchy!”

“So eloquent when you wake andyou haven’t had coffee yet, Princess.” he mocked. “Besides, thought you likedmy scratchy.”

���Within reasons.” she protested.“You do need a shave.”

Stubble, she would take. Beards,she wouldn’t.

“Fine.” he surrendered.

The nuzzling turned into kissingand she kept on involuntary wriggling a little because it tickled. It seemed toamuse him because he kept doing it, keeping the kisses soft rather thanpurposeful. She didn’t think he was trying to start anything, they were toocomfortable for that and he wasn’t going out of his way to reach new spots. Hepressed his lips against the patch of skin in front of him until she grew tiredof giggling, tossed her legs over his and used that grip to drag herself downso their heads were at the same level. Then, she kissed him and he didn’treally protest the change.

They were lazy kisses, mostlylong pecks. Her fingernails ran up and down his bare forearm… They might havefallen back asleep again if his thumb hadn’t brushed a sensitive spot on herside and she hadn’t erupted in giggles again, right against his mouth. Hechuckled too and pressed a series of kisses against her jaw.

“Shouldn’t you be past the cuteand kissy stage by now?” someone asked from the living-room threshold and Effiegasped in alarm, startled. She would have sat up but Haymitch’s arm tightenedaround her waist, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her side, letting herknow everything was fine. He didn’t look particularly surprised so she supposedhe had heard the boy come in at some point. Peeta had the decency to looksheepish. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Maybe you should stop sneakingin, then.” Haymitch taunted. “One of those days, you and the girl are gonnawalk in on something you really don’twanna see…”

“Haymitch.” she hissed, pursingher lips at him.

His grey eyes were twinklingwith amusement when they darted down to her mouth and she covered his lips withher hand before he could lean in and kiss her right there, right then just tomake a point. He could be such a child sometimes… She supposed it was good tosee him being so… carefree. The warhad lifted a weight off his shoulders and, while there were bad days, he was starting to relax into something that feltstrongly like peace.

“I am afraid you catch us on anextremely lazy day.” she told Peeta after having cleared her throat. Mostly becauseHaymitch’s tongue was poking at her palm. She tossed him a brief chiding glare,which he answered with an exaggerated roll of his eyes that told her he wouldnow behave.

The exchange couldn’t havelasted more than a couple of seconds but Peeta seemed to find the whole thingvery funny because he was watching them with amusement and fondness.

Finally taking a hint, Haymitchtook his arm off her waist, letting her sit up. He was slower in grabbing theback of the couch and hauling himself up. “So? What brings you in a housethat’s not yours, kid?”

She whacked his shoulder but itdidn’t really seem to bother him.

“I was just dropping a loaf ofbread and a few pastries on my way home.” the boy shrugged.

“Oh, breakfast!” she beamed,untangling her legs from the blanket to make a beeline for the kitchen,resolutely ignoring the amused look Peeta and Haymitch were sharing behind herback.

It was a little ridiculous to have breakfast in the middle of theafternoon, naturally, but, for once, she was starving and swallowing a decentamount of food every day had become enough of a problem for her that nobodywould begrudge her any sweet. And, surely enough, her favorite kinds of muffinswere waiting on a plate in the middle of the table. She snatched the blueberryone before Haymitch caught up.

Unfortunately, it was still tooslow for her to take more than a single bite.

“You’re a muffin thief.” heaccused behind her, sneaking an arm around her waist and straining his neckover her shoulder to steal a huge bite right out of her muffin. “Theblueberry’s mine.”

“There are plenty of otherflavors!” she protested.

“But that’s my favorite.” hepointed out.

“Well, it is my favorite too!”she huffed, faking anger only to prompt him to try and steal another bite. Shekept the muffin away and they mocked struggled for a while until he decided heapparently wanted a bite of her neck more than he wanted some breakfast.

“If anyone cares, there’s another blueberry muffin.” Peetacommented. “There’s also a rum baba and a strawberry cupcake.”

Effie froze, having completelyforgotten about the boy. Given the way Haymitch’s arm briefly tightened aroundher waist, so had he. He slowly released his grip and casually snatched amuffin from the plate before walking to the counter to start up the impossiblyold coffee machine.

Peeta was leaning against thewall, watching them, blue eyes dancing with unabashed amusement. Given the waythey had been behaving, it felt a little as if he was the adult and they werethe children, something that disturbed Effie. She didn’t like being caughtacting so… improper. Haymitch had adreadful influence on her.

“How was your day, dear?” sheasked in an effort to go back to some normalcy. She fished the orange juicefrom the fridge and poured herself a glass before taking a seat at the table,silently gesturing at another chair so the boy would sit.

“It was nice.” Peeta grinned.“There are more and more customers. I’m thinking about hiring someone to helpout full time now. I need someone at the front, I guess.”

“I am happy to do it until youfind someone, if you need me to.” Effie offered. She didn’t mind, she likedminding the counter while Peeta baked in the back of the store. It was acomfortable partnership and it allowed her to get to know people in the District.

Haymitch placed a mug full ofcoffee in front of each of them and then briefly brushed her nape with hishand, so casually it might have looked like an accident if Peeta hadn’t beenwatching them so closely, before going to fetch his own from the counter.

“If you can keep Haymitch’shands off you for a few hours every day, I wouldn’t say no.” the boy joked.

“You can stop with the remarksany time now.” Haymitch grumbled, sitting down at his place at the head of thetable. “You wouldn’t have to see it if you knocked like polite people.”

“Look at you, lecturing peopleon their manners.” she teased, cutting her muffin in small pieces.

“What can I say, you’re a badinfluence.” he shrugged. His foot hooked around her ankle under the table butshe didn’t think Peeta noticed.

The boy was too busy grinning atthem as if they were the most amusing thing in the world anyway. “You do it all the time. It doesn’t matter if weknock or not, you’re always all over each other. Katniss hates it but I thinkit’s cute.”

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “We’renot all over each other.”

“All the time.” Peetainsisted, taking a sip of his coffee.

The foot left her ankle andEffie hid her own grin against the rim of her mug. Truth be told, they had beenvery free with gestures of affection of late. When she had first arrived theyhad stuck to their usual status quo. Kisses and hand holding and hugging hadbeen only happening inside his house, when they were alone and nobody could seethem. But after a few months, once it had become clear the children knew aboutthem… Katniss and Peeta were always around, always coming in unannounced – thenumber of times they had almost caught them in embarrassing situations – and ithad been gradual but natural to relax the rules around them. They didn’t often really kiss in front of the children butthey certainly touched each other,his hand often found the small of her back or her nape when it didn’t outrightgrab hers, and she always snuggled against his side when they all watched TV orlean against him when they were standing and the conversation went on forever…They pecked each other’s lips hello or goodbye… It had all become so naturalshe hardly noticed anymore.

Haymitch grumbled in his owncoffee, embarrassed and annoyed because he always hated any implication that hewas soppy – or had feelings of any sort but that cat was out of the bags andeven he couldn’t deny it any longer.

“You must make allowances…” Effieteased. “Haymitch only fell in love with me recently, you see. It is all verynew for him.”

He almost chocked with hiscoffee. “Unfair. You’re more touchy feely than me. Also untrue. It’s not ‘causeI had my head up my ass until Thirteen that…” He stopped, threw an awkwardglance at Peeta and scowled. “Do we have to talk about that now? Or at all?” Her lips twitched and she bumped herfoot against his under the table. She was only teasing. He relaxed but not bymuch. “Anyway.” he grumbled. “Ain’t like we had many opportunities to be… affectionate before, boy. Cameras werealways around and we didn’t want anyone catching wind of this.”

A plan that had failed miserablygiven that, by the end, almost everyone involved with the Games had eitherguessed or suspected.

“How old were you when you met?”Peeta asked curiously.

They rarely talked about before and while Katniss was very happy– even eager – to respect that, Effie knew Peeta was curious about their past.

“Haymitch was around twenty-eight,I was twenty-two.” she answered indulgently, forcing herself to finish thepieces of muffin she had cut. She felt full already and she knew Haymitch waswatching to make sure she ate enough, she also didn’t want to have aconversation about how she wasn’t feeding herself properly and how she wouldend up in hospital again if she didn’t force herself. She knew it all, shedidn’t need a reminder. It simply wasn’t that easy.

“That’s old.” Peeta commented.

Haymitch snorted but Effiehuffed. “Why, thank you.”

It had been almost fifteen yearsago now.

“No…” Peeta winced. “I mean… Youweren’t… You know… Young.” She liftedher eyebrows and the boy winced harder. “Not like Katniss and me. You werealready…”

“If you’re asking if we waitedtwo years to have sex, answer is no.” Haymitch cut him off, putting him out ofhis misery.

“Of course not. We waitedthree.” she grinned.

“That wasn’t waiting.” Haymitch countered. “I wasn’tinterested.”

“Weren’t you, now?” she hummed,sipping the last of her coffee.

“You know what I mean. Weweren’t…” He glanced at Peeta and then shrugged, leaving it unvoiced. “Yet.”

“Our affair wasn’t exactlyromantic in nature.” Effie explained tactfully for the boy’s benefit.“Tenderness and displays of affection weren’t part of the deal.”

“Oh.” Peeta wrinkled his nose.“That doesn’t sound… nice.”

“It was toxic.” Effie declaredflatly, brushing the crumbs into her cupped hand and standing up to toss themin the bin. She kept her back on them both afterwards, busying herself withwashing her mug.

“Not always.” Haymitch objectedquietly after a few minutes of awkward silence.

“No.” she amended, tensionslowly leaving her shoulders. “Not always.”

There had been good timesamongst the bad, particularly in the latest years. It hadn’t all been all haterough sex, then. It had been fun and sometimes light and the codependency theyhad fallen into at some point hadn’t felt as suffocating or destructive.

“Why are we even talking aboutthis…” Haymitch sighed. The chair creaked and, a second later, strong arms werewrapped around her waist. His chest was warm against her back through theflannel of his borrowed shirt.

“Because Peeta wanted to knowwhy we are now so… What is the expression? Lovey-dovey?” she joked with forcedamusement.

“How about I tell Peeta it’snone of his business and we leave it at that?” he suggested, a soft growl inhis voice.

“I’m sorry, Effie, I didn’t meanto upset you.” the boy apologized.

“I am not upset.” she denied. Itwasn’t entirely true but it wasn’t entirely the boy’s fault either. She neededto let it go anyway. The past was in the past and they were all very happy toleave it there. She relaxed against Haymitch’s chest, reached behind her forhis neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We will try to keep the public displaysof affection to a minimum from now on.”

“We’re on to a bad start.”Haymitch snorted against her nape.

“I really don’t mind.” Peetapromised. He cleared his throat and stood up. “I’m going to go home. Katniss isprobably wondering where I am.” That was a feeble excuse. If Katniss hadwondered, she would have come looking. He wanted to give them some privacy.“You’re coming over for dinner later?”

“Sure.” Haymitch agreed. Herelaxed his hold on her but didn’t let her go, not until the boy had left. He placedhis hands on her hips to make her turn around and face him. He studied her fora while and then his lips stretched into a small smirk. “You wanna go back tocuddling on the couch?”

The question was so ridiculousshe couldn’t help but laugh, leaning against his chest until he wrapped hisarms around her waist again. She locked hers around his neck, looking up at himwith a smile. “What happened to the grouchy Haymitch Abernathy who wouldn’thave been caught dead saying the word cuddling?”

“He lost you and got you backand he’s so grateful you’re in his life he doesn’t care if he looks like afool.” he shrugged casually, as if it was a small unimportant thing to say.

For someone who never utteredthe actual words I love you, hecertainly told her a lot.

“Cuddling on the couch soundslike a great way to spend the afternoon.” she grinned, eyes twinkling.

They could put a movie on.

He would hate it and make a lotof irritating comments and she would spend the whole time hushing him and itwould be amazing because it was normal and boring and his arms would be aroundher the whole time.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #post mj #cuddles #fluff #the kids #haymitch with feelings #no wig no make-up #established #book!verse #busted by people

[sugar-petals]

Omg I love your writing style so much ❤️ It always hits in the right places 😏 As I see you have requests open may I ask for historical AU with Taehyung being a nobleman son and his and reader's wedding night when they never (or barely) saw each other before a wedding? You know they don't know each other but they have to do it 😩 If you don't feel like writing this anything else with Tae will be fine with me 😉

My Word To Treat You Well [M]

length | 3.5kgenre | angst, soft smut, enemies to lovers, fluffy endnote | The other members are side & main characters!warnings | bullying, homophobia, child abuse, evil kings… doing evil things 

Appalling. Twenty or more people would offer you a hundred bucks to know whether Prince Taehyung was good in bed or not. 

Probably to sell the juicy secret to The Daegu Herald or Gyeongsang Sentinel for twice the money. You’d get extra pay for revealing what he was into. Meanwhile, you yourself wondered about that. The cash went past your gloved hands under mid-July’s oppressive evening heat, waiting for the crowds to disperse with your relatives departing, too. The tedious diplomatic talks, over-the-top banquets, shrill music, and painful dances were over. Familiar stars shed soft lights on the rattling carriages that headed north from the Kim Palace. That was the only thing good about this day. It was hard knowing Ilsan was so far away. You mother, widowed Queen Choi, had left you with a plea to all the strength you possibly have. And she must know how it is. 

You were looking forward to throwing your heeled shoes into the palace pond, not fucking the Crown Prince. He had been acting arrogant with his friends all day, tripping waiters. In fact, you thought he was Daegu’s number one blockhead. Next to his unruly partner in crime: Yoongi from the local Min family. He loved to harass and mock the elderly guests while Taehyung laughed along. The Min clan wears their blue emblem with such a toxic haughtiness, even Prince “Phony” Jimin of Busan wouldn’t compare. Thankfully, the latter had remained absent today and didn’t make things worse. Because that Min guy was already prickly, a textbook bad influence to Taehyung. The kiss in front of the altar had been enjoyable, that was true. He didn’t smell, he didn’t use tongue or teeth, he kept it short and smiled courteously. The Prince was attractive and well-dressed, sure. That was good enough down the aisle. He wouldn’t start too many dances either. But Kim had soaked up the aristocratic mannerism so much, at the ball it felt like he wanted to own this place. Which he didn’t. Namjoon was still the one in charge in both this province and the palace. It seemed like the Kim patriarch’s iron rule had raised a glaring thorn in his crown. And you had to deal with him now: In bed. It’s a cruel world.

Prince Taehyung comes waddling along the marble corridor with relative unease. He seems aimless, maybe drunk. Prince Prick is not with him. They had been glued together the entire day, more than you were supposed to spend time with Taehyung instead. On the one hand, protocol breach would cause atrocious chatter. On the other hand, having Taehyung off the hem of your hanbok frankly was congenial. Maybe Yoongi was quite a convenient figure on this chess board. You’d keep that in mind. Waiting for Taehyung to arrive was awkward enough. But as he just stood there blank-faced like a statue for a solid minute, you took the liberty to just drag him to your chamber by the lapel. What a huge moron. He lands on the canopy bed quite frightened, but it leaves you cold. “Let’s just get it over with,” you tower at the lower end of the bed, “you whip your cock out, shove it in three times, dump your jizz so Daegu gets an heir, and we’ll go to bed. Me, I’ll just pretend I’m dead.” 

Taehyung looks even more flabbergasted. You don’t know if it was the language or the directness. Probably both. You let yourself fall right next to him, kicking off the nasty restrictive shoes. The chambermaids had at least managed to remove your bride headpiece and the ridiculous, scratchy ceremonial wig. It was one of the major reasons why you hated marrying in summer. They also fidgeted at your head to wipe off the goo that was supposed to be face paint before you snapped and sent them away. They should enjoy the evening and not bother with your oh-so costly attire that was only designed to trouble you anyways. It didn’t even look as beautiful and regal as what Taehyung had worn. He was all the rage while people slandered you the second you were out of sight as your mother had remarked. It was just important that he was married. It preserved the patrilineage and elevated his status, not you as the wife and new member of the family. The future Queen of Daegu, in fact. But they didn’t seem to respect that.

That way, they had “decorated” you. Criticizing all sorts of things about your appearance. Nobody in Ilsan had bothered, thought something was not right or good-looking. Nor did you. Queen Choi had insisted beauty was not a female ruler’s most important asset. It was power, plain and simple. That is what rulership is about. She warned you that the house of Kim had more double standards. You yourself didn’t think making a Princess less confident and secure in herself was particularly benevolent. Nose too long, hands too broad, voice too loud, height too tall, hair too coarse, eyes to narrow, skin too tan, hips not wide enough for having kids? All they wanted was a weak, pregnant fairy glued to Taehyung’s side by day. And a mute fuckdoll to keep his dick wet by night. You weren’t wrong saying you would play dead. That is how passive they wanted you to be here. And as anxious and self-conscious as possible, that no deeper thought about this rotten palace would ever cross your mind. “My ears are too ugly for me to have authority!” thought no king ever. 

You undress ripping away the satin, pearls, embroidered sticks, emeralds, ribbons. All the layers of hanbok have to go. They land on the floor while Taehyung remains dumbfounded. Once the work is done, you’re in the underwear that’s been itching and sweaty all day. You lift the blanket, then roll your eyes at the Prince. “I’m kidding. Move, I want to sleep. Everything hurts.” You’re about to blow out the candle on your nightstand that Taehyung finds his words. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I had hoped you had fun with us today.” He looks depressed now. “It’s arranged, this is not cloud nine,” you reply, “Good night, I don’t need your fake concerns.” Taehyung jumps up from the bed. “At least put on something comfortable, Princess,” he points to the showy wardrobe left to the entrance. “You just wanna see me naked to jack off while I sleep,” you growl, pulling the blanket tight over your chest. Taehyung rummages in the wardrobe, then tosses over a plain, long nightshirt. “I’ll go to the other chamber until you open.”

And indeed, he slips into the adjacent dressing room and closes the door shut. He turns the key, flicks it into your boudoir underneath the door. You quickly change into the green gown in a dark corner. It’s light and cooling. You tiptoe across the room and yank open the door after you unlocked, suspecting to catch Taehyung while he eavesdrops or looks through the keyhole. But no, he’s sitting at the window in a chair watching the night sky, startled at the vehement entrance. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he whines, pale and daunted in the moonlight. “Nothing,” you snarl and return to bed. He just follows reluctantly. Where did insolent Prince Taehyung go? It has to be another joke or farce. He had entertained everyone with offensive shenanigans all day. 

You curl yourself together at the farthest possible point from him as he comes to lay down. Soon, some of his warmth sneaks across underneath the blanket. Disgusting. The topmost dipshit of Daegu is in the same bed as you. That alone makes you want to puke. On Namjoon’s throne, at best. He raised the scum. For a while, everything remains silent. But the heat, moonlight, and his breath won’t let you sleep, let alone his mere presence. Who knows what he does to you when you don’t pay attention any longer. You would be glad to pass the night without getting groped at least once. After what felt like hours, you just wind back and forth. At some point, you accidentally ram him hard in the flank with your elbow. The following whimper sounds so horrifying that you jolt up in a cold sweat. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” he trembles, holding his ribs in pain. Serves him right. “I didn’t want this either. He beats me already. Please don’t hurt me, please!” He’s almost bawling. You’re quite impressed by these acting skills. “Calm it Kim, I was just trying to turn around. Can’t sleep, thank you very much.” - “Me either… I’m very sorry!” Now you bellow at him. “Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry all the time. Are you no longer mean or what?” Taehyung looks like he might as well wet himself any second. The guards might have heard, but you’d be happy to get thrown into a cold jail cell. “Y/N, if I’m not acting like that I’ll get hit,” he answers, pulling down the impossibly high neckline of his gown. 

Oh.

Fuck. 

Green and blue marks — everywhere. One above the solar plexus looks new. Taehyung notices you staring at it. “He did it so I would promise to be tough with you tonight,” he says, covering his chest once the shame becomes too unbearable. “It’s really all an act?” - “It’s how everyone here does it, it’s normal. But we shouldn’t speak about it…” - “And Yoongi? Jimin?” - “They’re not like that when we’re alone,” he affirms, “it’s all to play along. Jimin got shoved down the stairs by his dad last week. He broke his leg just because he refused to marry an unknown woman. Yoongi’s dad threatened to do the same. All three of us have to marry this year, it’s protocol. Jimin got denied medical attention by King Park. That’s why he’s not here.” 

Now you get why Taehyung showed up dizzy and shut down after you grabbed at his suit. The dressing room reaction was similar. He’s not drunk, or anything like that. The King just gave him a heavy disciplining minutes before he appeared in the corridor. And Jimin — there’s no way the life of the party would stay at home without something this severe going on. It’s Prince Taehyung’s wedding, after all, the event of the year. They really pushed him down the stairs. You can’t believe it. He could be dead by now. The southern royals are as fucked up as you suspected, just in a way that’s… ten times worse than you’ve seen at the ball. 

There’s a legitimate reason as to why you thought they were all completely unlike themselves. It really is a tragedy behind the scenes. You enclose Taehyung in a caring hug while he’s crying his eyes out, your nightgown soaking it all up. “I have to apologize, too,” you soothe while he hangs feebly in your embrace. The tears slowly disappear after you’re petting his hair, mumbling excuses. His body feels slack and empty. You suggest going outside to visit the small palace garden. Walking through the solemn corridors barefoot, hands intertwined, it feels much closer to how you wished your day should have been like. The guards at the main gate appear quite surprised to see you walk around at such a late time. But both stand tall with a nod and the obligatory congratulations as you state the destination. Taehyung hides his swollen eyes behind his bangs as you inform them. They let you pass without resistance. 

You seat your husband on the edge of the central fountain. The surrounding roses, hydrangea, and dahlia flower beds emit a tranquilizing haze, along with the bubbling water and warm summer breeze. Your throbbing headache says goodbye. Walking on the tingly grass is a welcome relief, too. There are no clouds above you, the sky is lucid. The Prince looks up sighing deeply. “Taehyung, you like the stars, too?” He nods. You point out your favorite constellations to each other. Boötes, Virgo, Scorpius. Cassiopeia, too, she’s among the easiest to spot. Taeyhung looks handsome and frail in the tender moonshine. He’s really a beautiful man, rivaling the stars. Or complementing them. You pluck a cream white rose for him to hold, and he is careful with the thorns. “That’s for scaring you.” You pick another, coral red. “For the elbow accident.” A third one is bright orange and yellow. “To heal your chest.” You lean close to his face for the fourth flower – your mouth brushing over the bridge of his nose, then uniting your lips. “And this, Prince Kim, is my word to treat you well.”

Back in bed, you’ve cast away the heavy blanket and gowns. The clear moonlight has come to serve as an advantage now. Taehyung’s head is buried between your legs, tongue curling up and down gently. His large hands cup at your hips with fondness. You’re mindful not to put pressure on his upper body while you’re above him, facing his feet. His chest looks times worse than what you’ve seen when he first showed it. There are thin scars on his legs, too. You hope that every kiss mends them just a little bit, even if it’s just inside his heart. Taehyung tastes balmy and mellow when you circle your tongue around his length. It’s fun to plant your lips on his tip to sink down swaying right and left with your head, feeling his serpentine veins brush past the corners of your mouth. That’s a dick you’ll keep wet three times a day when the mood is right. He’s magnificent, better than all the savory cakes from the buffet. You regret having rejected a bath in your imperious fury earlier, now feeling ready to earn the title: Most obnoxious and smelling Crown Princess that the kingdom has ever seen. But Taehyung doesn’t care one bit, indulging you with graceful little flicks and dips at your clit. It’s so amazing. Maybe you’re not as malodorous and unbearable as you think. Because you’re comparing yourself to the sky-high golden standards of Taehyung. Which is probably what Namjoon’s mind control aims for. Then you will indeed think you’re just a meaningless fairy puppet by sheer comparison. That, you realize, is something to cast away. Taehyung is Taehyung, a wonderful delicate person and spouse. You are you. Queen Choi’s most unyielding daughter, to-be sovereign among her ranks of power, and impending defender of the Prince to install justice. Namjoon will pay for every mark he left. 

After sunrise, you already have to confront a perverse mob of “two hundred bucks? three hundred bucks?” fanatics led by chief servant Hoseok. You command them to rather spend the money on sending Prince Park a proper doctor. They swallow the bait, pester for details. You know better not to get hanged for treason on your first day as Princess of Daegu. Instead, you send them off with a trusted contact’s name at Park Palace, knowing they will not stop until they discover the truth. If they can expose the secret on their own, they’ll think they’ve invented it. And then comes the craving for big money, and more investigation. Especially the Daegu Herald is predictable in that regard. You hope the story blows up. Someone has to take care of Jimin. Maybe you should send a letter.

The throne room is the next obstacle. You’re glad there was no breakfast yet so you are maximum ill-tempered. A heavily bearded King thrones golden at the very end, and almost loses his crown when you enter without bowing, still in your plain dress. But he catches himself – back to the fake smile, fake words, fake posture. “Ah, this is what I call a regal sense of duty. A good early morning!” he says jovially. His own father must have slapped him into this demeanor. They’re all despicable. This is the generation where it ends. “The whole palace talks about your tryst. Everyone is impressed by the Rose Prince! Truly a man. Making such romantic gestures.” You’re angry that someone watched and couldn’t keep it to themselves. But then again, the palace harbored many guests tonight that had been equally restless and curious. The garden is public anyways, and visible through many windows. But it seems like everybody had twisted the story around and pretends you’re not even part of it. “I’m not here to talk about that. I have a request, actually.” - “Oh sure Princess, go ahead?” Namjoon falls somber now. “I’m not happy with this situation,” you furrow your brow. “Just like I expected it to be,” he huffs into his beard, “Well, we can always nullify the marriage after a certain time. But that needs a special legal procedure and at least two produced infant heirs. I advise you to wait anyways. Taehyung will become a good man for you even if you don’t like him now.” This place is truly hell. Produce an infant heir. King Namjoon has lost his mind. You fortify your stance before the throne. “I wouldn’t divorce because of Taehyung. I would divorce because of you. I’ll take him back with me to Ilsan.”

“Because of me? You wouldn’t dare. I have organized the best wedding of the last fifty years. Kim Seokjin is not ready to become the Crown Prince yet! Taehyung is the heir. You have to be his Princess. The alliance with house Choi is important for trade, too.” - “All the reasons to leave. Without heirs. Just with Taehyung. From your words, I can tell he’s not as important to you as the lineage and your reputation. Nor am I.” The King looks like he is about to combust. He can’t hurt you. Taehyung needs kids and Daegu resources. “Choi, what do you want?” he bursts out, hammering his staff on the ground. “Stop beating Taehyung. And don’t treat me as secondary. That’s all I ask for.” - “But this is protocol!” - “Then why do you keep it hidden when it’s all fine and necessary?” There it is. The King is gritting his teeth hard. Who would have known the doll bride would have this much leverage. “I’ve sent a giant horde to Park Palace. If you don’t put King Park and King Min in their place and abolish the protocol, they will. If my mother comes to know about it, Ilsan and the Northern Kingdom ban trading gold, silver, spice, and silk. Say goodbye to your dynasty and alliances.” - “You’re lying…” - “Then wait and see. It’s the truth. The crowd just left. Jung Hoseok called in sick today, didn’t he? Guess why.” - “Stop, stop the crowd! We’ll revise the protocol all you want, just stop the crowd!” 

For five hundred bucks, Hoseok gets an in-depth story about the ‘Rose Princess’ garden tryst. With a lot of embellishments and inexplicable plot holes, but still immensely detailed. Two days after, even the notoriously stuck-up Gyeongsang Sentinel readers send you presents after Hoseok sold them the story for a fortune. The five hundred bucks you spend for the messenger on horseback who had raced to the neighbor province, calling back the wild mob headed to Busan. Instead of you having to write a letter, Crown Prince Jimin sends you one instead. His leg has received treatment by the kingdom’s most expensive doctor. His father begrudgingly appointed him. Jimin is delighted to marry his lover in October – the beloved childhood friend and son of Busan’s Grand Duchess, Jungkook. An adoption is already on its way. The public is nowhere near as enraged as Jimin’s father had dreaded. Jungkook is very popular for good looks and charm and already well-known as Jimin’s second half. Queen Park appears to be very excited, too, especially since lifting the protocol has impacted her beneficially. 

You’ll have to live with the fact that King Namjoon cares about grandchildren more than Taehyung’s less “tough” side or, well, you. That you hope will change with time. But he busies himself with Seokjin instead of you where his prospects fall on fertile ground, and Queen Kim keeps an eye on it. At least he is happy that Jimin’s marriage does take place and has decided for the family to travel to Busan in late September. Taehyung has developed a habit of walking in the park with you often in the meantime. Also, you meet with the citizens on the farmer’s market by horse. Huge masses of people gather to see and talk to you. Namjoon had security concerns and sent fifteen high-strung guards along. But Taehyung allowed them to stroll on the market (you called it “patrol”, tongue in cheek), keeping only the four that seemed not exhausted from being constantly yelled at by the King. It was about time anybody left the dusty walls of the palace. Many had only seen you in the drawings of herald papers and heard mostly peculiar stories save the garden one. After a pleasant afternoon you buy Taehyung fresh apples and tangerines, pick up the guards and ride towards the forest. There, you spend time with Yoongi who has earned your nickname of “Prince Perfect” after some initial misunderstandings. Together you practice arching or swim in the river, and discuss wedding presents that Jimin might like. You’re very happy with Taehyung who’s always watching you with a beaming smile, and glad that he’s able to wear normal necklines again. 

My, this was a great prompt as usual. Thank you historical Tae anon (I’ll just call you this way) for the request. Asks: Always welcome my sweet cubs 🐯 I love you. - Caro

#bts #bangtan #taehyung au #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #taehyung historical #bts historical au #prince taehyung #sub!taehyung #prince jimin #prince yoongi #king namjoon #jungkook #taehyung x reader #dom!reader #taehyung fanfic #taehyung drabble #taehyung scenario #marriage with taehyung #wedding night #bullying #tw:abuse #taehyung #namjoon #jimin #jimin angst #yoongi #yoongi angst #namjoon angst

[christophersymes]

Celebrity Status

Celebrity Status, an ongoing L(G)B(T)+ story also on Wattpad and Quotev.

<-- Previous (Prologue) / Next -->

TW: Brief mention of r*pe

Chapter One

Jules, grinning mischievously, set the game discs down in a row on the hardwood in front of the TV stand. Rosa's heels clicked on the floor as he did and she moved in anticipation of what she was about to do. He set the last disc down gently after kissing it, then stood up to admire the line. His gaze turned to Rosa, who looked down at them, then back up at him.

"Yes, princess, you can go ahead," he said with a flourish and bow, tossing the cases on the floor.

The discs cracked under Rosa's heels as she jumped on them, stomped on them, ground them into the floor. She leaned down and picked up the pieces afterward, too, snapping them and tossing them on the bed. After she'd done that to every single one, she stomped all of the cases, tossing them on the bed as well.

She was fucking ruthless, and Jules loved it. He loved his sister, and that was exactly why he was doing this shit. He stomped the last one before her, his combat boot snapping the plastic case's edge, then kicked it over to her. She did the same, then set it in front of the TV, smiling sweetly.

"Hope you enjoy your gameless existence, you dick," she murmured, already unplugging the Playstation from the TV. "This is what you get for trying to rape me."

Jules felt his stomach fall at her words, but knew it was true. A week ago, he and his friend Sam had walked in on Rosa and Dickwad Josh at a party. Rosa had been trying to push Josh off her, and it took both Jules and Sam to get him away.

As usual, they'd both guaranteed they'd exact their revenge, and make it ten times worse than what they usually did because the guy had almost succeeded.

They showed up at his house when they were sure he was gone, and went inside to speak to his parents. They'd listened as Rosa described what happened, and Jules told them he'd witnessed it and that their son was a dick in the first place too, who would sometimes grope Rosa in front of everyone.

They'd all agreed he needed to learn a very, very severe lesson.

So, naturally, they showed them both up to his room and told them what they could destroy. They both took the opportunity to kill his games, and were now dismantling his Playstation and controllers.

Once they had everything gathered in their arms, they went downstairs and outside. Jules waved a controller affectionately at his parents, who grinned back at him. They'd hated how much Josh played games, anyway, and they were really nice people in a not so good neighborhood. There was a kid down the street who would kill for the console, so Jules and Rosa knocked on the door happily.

"Hi," Rosa said, grinning. "We're from the house down there, the Pinnows. Uh— Well, Josh, their son, he knew that your kid really wanted a Playstation and that you guys couldn't get one, so we come bearing a gift."

They both lifted the console and cords. "It's a little worn, but Josh wanted you guys to have it."

The dad took it thankfully, a little shocked as he laughed. "Holy shit. Thank you."

After a little bit of awkward conversation, they left again, grinning at the good deed they did in the middle of revenge. Jules shoved at Rosa. "You feeling better?"

"Fuck yes. He deserves all this shit. Dick." Rosa laughed, clapping her hands together. She rubbed them greedily. "What can we destroy now?"

"How about slashing his tires? Make him pay, sis," Jules said, passing her his pocket knife. He took her hand and set it in her palm, then kissed her forehead. "Careful, though. We don't need you slashing your hand open."

⧫

Mason Hill moved his head along to the music blasting into his eardrums as he fucked around on his laptop. He was in the mood for going incognito online, wanting to interact with fans without them knowing it was him. He had been hearing about this awesome Nosam forum for a while but hadn't made an account yet. He figured it was time for that to change. He cracked his knuckles in front of his chest and stuck out his tongue, grinning as he saw the first empty text box to fill beside the word Username.

"Easy," he murmured to himself, immediately typing masonfucker1000 into the box.

He frowned at the next prompt. Name? Huh. He drummed his fingers against his leg, glancing at Austin, sitting nearby him on the tour bus. "Dude, what was your middle name again?"

Mason knew his middle name. He just liked hearing Austin say it in his neat little accent.

And wanted to freak him out a little.

Austin gave him a curious look as he stopped playing his guitar, pushing his glasses up. "Elías? Why do you ask?"

Mason clicked his tongue at him, winking. "Nothing important. Nice name, handsome."

Austin opted not to respond, shaking his head and watching him suspiciously before going back to his guitar.

Mason typed Elías into the box. He figured a shit ton of people were 23 and it would be harmless to put that in, so he did that too. He put in a fanart edit of himself as the image— him wearing a flower crown, one of his favorites— and hit Create Account, smiling in satisfaction. He went to the welcome thread to make his first post.

masonfucker1000: hey!! im maybe older than most fans but I just wanted you all 2 know that even though im straight, i would let mason hill do anything he wanted to me

Austin kept glancing up at him, effectively distracted by Mason wanting his middle name for what was probably a horrible reason.

"Seriously, what are you doing?"

"Joining a Nosam forum, obviously," Mason scooted closer to him, moving the laptop close to his face with a flourish.

Austin stared at the screen, looking from the glittery website's title, to the header with their faces, and then to Mason's post. "Why are you always so disturbingly narcissistic to the point where I'm almost certain you'd actually fuck yourself if given the opportunity?"

Mason tilted his head, nodding as he spoke. "Because I would, Ozzie," he pecked his neck and then, mouth at his ear, repeated in a whisper. "Because I would."

Jules, alone in his bedroom after the revenge-destroying, was fucking around on the Nosam forum. As usual. He was one of the top members, had helped design the site as a school project, was friends with about half the people on the site, and loved them all. They were really his only friends, so it was easy to love them all.

He refreshed the page just in time to see a new comment in the welcome thread. No one had joined in a while, so it was interesting. It wasn't exactly the most popular website, so... Oh, their name was Elias... That was Austin's middle name. Maybe he'd finally have another Austin stan.

And of course, they loved Mason. God damn it, everyone did. He sighed but hit reply anyway. A new friend was a new friend.

familyjules: hey elias! welcome to the nosam fanbase!!! also: ew but go off i guess ;)

Mason gasped loudly, falling back against the small sofa. "Ew? Ew?"

He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration as he immediately replied.

masonfucker1000: jules! hi! thanks! also! what the hell! how can you resist the unique and godly allure that only mason joshua hill possesses?

Jules snorted, rolling his eyes. He leaned on his wall as he typed, laughing a little to himself.

familyjules: i'm too entranced by the unique and godly allure that only austin possesses, ....masonfucker1000. i just realized this point is totally moot but i'm still gonna fight it to my dying breath: austin elías salinas vicente is better than mason hill in so many ways but i respect your opinion my dear masonfucker

Mason sighed loudly and took off his snapback, throwing it at Austin, who yelped in surprise.

"What the hell?"

Mason glared at him. "That's for having a godly allure, Salinas."

Austin sputtered, confused.

masonfucker1000: you say you respect my opinion, familyjules? really? u might as well have spat in my face. austin. better than mason. my god. i will try to coexist peacefully with radical beliefs such as urs.

also: is ur profile pic u?

Jules laughed at the dramatics. He hadn't had this much fun meeting someone in a while. They were actually taking his jokes as jokes.

familyjules: thank you for your precious coexistence, fellow radical believer. and yeah dat me

Mason didn't know why the Nosam fanbase just happened to be super attractive, but he always appreciated nonetheless.

masonfucker1000: my dude, fellow believer, may i just say that ur face is v nice to look at. one might even say it radiates a certain godly allure

Jules blushed a little. People had called him attractive before, but not like that. Damn.

familyjules: thank you!! i guess ur pfp is kinda okay to look at... ;)

Mason huffed, pouting. That was just not at all fair. He couldn't even defend his own good looks.

masonfucker1000: ha. ha. so how long have u been into nosam? sorry, i meant: how long have u been brainwashed into thinking nosam was called nitsua?

Jules laughed at that one. It was good. Elias was funny.

familyjules: i actually laughed at that one! nitsua just sounds like a ninja name or something. and i've been into them since their first ep came out! found them on youtube and felllllllll. how about you?

Mason grinned. Hardcore fan. Hell, yeah. Call him a narcissist. Nosam was awesome and superbly talented, and Mason appreciated when other people knew it.

masonfucker1000: me too! nosam sorta changed my life. listen to them way more than a sane person should.

Someone else on the thread pointed out that that page was for welcoming and not conversation. Mason stuck out his tongue at his laptop screen.

masonfucker1000: whoops. heading to gen, familyjules?

Jules sighed a little at the comment, rolling his eyes. He'd made the website. It was his rule. And he'd broken it.

familyjules: whoops. yeah. i'll tag u in a thread

familyjules: @masonfucker1000 here we are. what yt video did you see first?

masonfucker1000: teenage dirtbag cover! iconic as hell. have u ever seen them live? its the most fun i've ever had.

familyjules: hell yes! i love that one! and no ): but i've got tickets to a show this tour and im hype. gonna scream my ass off

Mason's eyes widened. Oh, yes. Mason befriending a fan and that fan attending a Nosam concert? That would be beautiful.

masonfucker1000: really?? where? what day? on the off chance im going to the same 1

familyjules: Traverse City, MI. gonna glitter my face off too i'm gonna look great

masonfucker1000: oh nah not going there! glitter! nosam hype! fuck yeah, i believe u, u already look great as is. michigan, huh? the hell do u do for fun there?

familyjules: hockey, mostly. play bass too. try to run away from my family while blasting pop punk since no one gets me. freeze to death in snow

masonfucker1000: hockey?? ur tiny! i think! bass is rad, how long have you been playing? pop punk is the shit, i get u, bro

Jules smiled a bit. At least he didn't say he was a girl.

familyjules: bet i can whoop your ass even if i am tiny! and ive been playing for 5 years now. lots of nosam covers in the media thread if u wanna check it out! we gots a talented group here

masonfucker1000: i bet u can i can barely hold a stick.

a future seluj! charmed to meet u pre-fame. will def check out.

Mason headed to the media thread and clicked on one of the audio files Jules had uploaded. His eyes widened, and he turned up the volume.

Andrew, who had sat down in the far corner like the fucking loner he was, looked up at Mason as basslines filled the small space. "Hey, who's that? Not Chris, is it?"

Mason shook his head, mumbling, "Fan cover."

Andrew snorted, "Shit. That's good. You should show that to Chris when he gets back."

Mason played a few more covers, very impressed and a little doubtful.

masonfucker1000: c'mon. c'mon, jules. no way that's u.

familyjules: oh hell yeah that's me. ask anyone on here i love playing so much. covered a few starlight songs too but i'm not as good at those yet. are u into them too?

masonfucker1000: sure, sure. u stripped from chris, admit it, jules.

fuck yeah! love those badass ladiesss!

familyjules: whoa, dude, i'd never. if anything i'd strip for austin. if stella wouldn't kill me

masonfucker1000: pipe dream, jules. stella would 100% kill you. and then strip for austin herself.

Jules sighed wistfully at that image. They were both ridiculously hot, and Stella stripping was just a mental image to frame and make lifesize on the mantel above the fireplace.

familyjules: can't even join them? damn. my dreams are gone. can i share mason w/you then, masonfucker? he's the only single one of all of them... wait. does your username mean you're his hand then? shouldn't you have his hand as your pfp?

Mason's jaw dropped. "Holy fuck. I've never felt so roasted in my entire fucking life. Holy shit. Fucking— familyjules," he breathed a laugh, already typing out a response eagerly. Andrew rose an eyebrow at him, an action that Mason didn't even notice.

masonfucker1000: shit! how could u do him like that? he gets plenty of attention other than his hand! lots of it! mason hill gets around! its basic info!

familyjules: ha! uses the other hand sometimes? ;)

Mason lifted his arms behind his head. "This fucker!" he laughed again, rubbing his hands down his face. This Jules girl was ridiculous. If only she knew who she was talking to but... no, not a good idea. He stared at the screen, frowning as he realized he really wanted to keep talking to her, forgetting to respond and tapping his fingers against the laptop. He flipped Andrew off when he kept staring at him, taking the laptop and laying in his bunk instead. He could easily just not respond, like, ever. It wouldn't matter at all. Jules was just some random fan he'd stumbled onto online, who had no idea who Mason was, with whom Mason had only had half a conversation with. Hell, he usually didn't even have more than a conversation with people anyway, always having so many he wanted to talk to. But it wasn't ever like this. And it was stupid, really, how drawn he felt from just a couple hundred words on a screen, from a stranger. It wasn't even a good font.

Mason pursed his lips, sighing quietly as he stared at the forum page, at the slight curve of Jules' mouth in her profile picture. He abruptly switched tabs, checking his Twitter and replying to some fans. He Googled other fansites, ones he already had accounts on, and sifted through the threads, trying to find something else to do.

It was a bit before Elias responded again. Jules fucked around with other things on the site while he waited, scrolled through Tumblr, and then went back. He private messaged Elias, frowning a little.

familyjules: hey dude. just so you know i fuck with all the mason superfans like that. it's way too easy to roast mason

Mason was startled when he heard a ping as he had finally distracted himself from familyjules. He hesitated barely a second before switching back, smiling as he read the message.

masonfucker1000: yeah its cool! got distracted. ur wrong tho. completely wrong. masons a regular manwhore

familyjules: cool all good. just wanted to make sure you weren't actually mad! and trust me i know far too many girls on here have talked about seeing his dick

masonfucker1000: mad? over that? dont worry, bro, not at all

gh! and they all say his dick is huge. which is false. have u seen him in skinny jeans? he's got an average dick, ladies. an average dick with an above average heart

familyjules: damn dude. at least you're honest unlike them. also sometimes it looks big so i wonder who's right👀

masonfucker1000: average dick.

fuck im starving. what do i have to do to get some pizza up in hereeeee

familyjules: be mason hill?

familyjules: kidding! i'll send you some

masonfucker1000: you be careful or ill end up taking your word for it!! i swear my stomach is going to start eating itself

They ended up talking for a bit longer, but then Jules had to sleep, which made Mason pouty. It was rare for him to enjoy talking to someone this much, but Jules had a late shift the next day and classes all day, so he said goodbye and logged off, promising to be back same time the next day.

♦️

It kept like that for a week. Jules talked to Elias whenever he could, along with his other friends. He felt drawn to Elias for some reason, compelled to let the mysterious user eat up all his time.

familyjules: so. mr. masonfucker. you've only got two things on your profile and it's been a week. not even a small introduction to tell us about yourself other than you'd let mason have his way with you? i'm curious ;)

During the week, Mason had become gradually more excited every time he had the chance to be online when Jules was, which had thankfully been coinciding with after Nosam sets. He bit his lip as he read the newest message from her.

masonfucker1000: oh, youre curious? maybe i like the suspense ;) what about u, miss familyjules? im very curious about u. ur short bio is frankly not enough

Jules winced at the response. So Elias did think he was a girl. He could set him straight... but he knew nothing about this person except that he was cis and straight. He seemed cool, but Jules really didn't want to deal with a huge messy fight on the site right now.

familyjules: hey, you know i live in michigan. and what i look like. and that i play bass and play hockey. i don't even know what you do for fun, aside from stan mason. c'mon, dude

Mason groaned. God, he could just disappear right now, not talk to her ever again. But he'd be fucking bummed. Was he just lonely? I mean, tours got like that sometimes. Maybe he just needed stress relief, although that was off the table at the moment. Shit. This wasn't a... thing. Was it?

masonfucker1000: alright, alright! well, i do not live in michigan. i look like a burnt chicken nugget but i still love myself! i like singing and i've seen Real Steel abt a thousand times. how about that?

familyjules: real steel is awesome! and singing! maybe you should be in seluj with me one day. we'd take over the world, displace nosam

masonfucker1000: hell yeah! I'll let hugh jackman have at all this too 🥒🍆

displace nosam? ur blocked

masonfucker1000: kidding! totally up for it, let's go. altho it should be called saile, then

familyjules: hey, you're the one who named it seluj in the first place! maybe we're getting ahead of ourselves tho. havent even heard u sing. for all i know you could suck

masonfucker1000: thats where you're wrong, jules! that's where you're wrong! hold on

Mason paced the tour bus, considering his options. He had to show her he could sing. If he sang a song nobody had ever heard him do, maybe it would be alright?

masonfucker1000: uploaded suckonthisjules.mp3

masonfucker1000: go the distance! Hercules is my favorite disney movie. see? proof of my awesome talent and a fact abt me

Jules blinked in shock at the file, clicking play and leaning back. He listened, transfixed, picking at his lip.

familyjules: holy shit elias you sound a lot like mason. did you train your voice or what? there were a few places where you were off key but god damn. also hercules is so underrated

"Oh, fuck," Mason said as he read the response. "Wait— off key?" he glared at his laptop.

Andrew snorted. "A few minutes ago? Yeah."

Mason turned his glare towards Andrew. "I was not off key."

Andrew just laughed and shook his head, stuffing his face with chicken.

Mason frowned. It's not his fault his voice was a little strained after the show. No way he was gonna admit it, though.

He deleted the file he sent.

masonfucker1000: ah yeah, a bit.

and go to hell. off key, my ass! i told you I can sing. hercules is def underrated! yo where do u go all day?

Jules frowned when the messages shifted. He scrolled back up to find the file gone. "Oh, come on," he muttered. How paranoid could this guy be? It was a fansite. Who cared?

familyjules: def off key a bit. you deleted the file because of it, i see you, devil 👀

familyjules: oh also i'm a working college student! class by day, waiting tables by night

masonfucker1000: i did not!

oh shit, nice! well, horrible, but nice. i bet you get good tips ;) what are u studying?

familyjules: you'd be surprised how bad the tips are. studying music and psych, but the psych is a minor

masonfucker1000: jules ill go over there and tip you, you'll be set for life. so ur serious abt music huh? what do u wanna do?

familyjules: so youre rich. another thing i know now. and hell yeah i am! i want to work w/ a recording company if i can, fill in bass. more freelance than i'd like but it's something

masonfucker1000: 🤑

masonfucker1000: woah woah wait. ur settling! what would you like?

familyjules: settling? i don't call getting to play bass for a living settling

familyjules: what i really want tho is to play in a band but that's unlikely

masonfucker1000: uh huh

masonfucker1000: i knew it! c'mon, unlikely? you're as good as chris if you're not lying abt not stripping his bass 👀 maybe even better

familyjules: WHOA dude dont disrespect christo like that he's a huge role model!! i wish i could be as good as him

Mason smiled, getting up to bother Chris. "Yo, hey, dude?"

Chris looked up from his laptop, rubbing his forehead. "Huh?"

"You know that girl I've been talking to that plays bass. She says you're her role model and got offended when I said she probably plays better than you."

Chris smiled warmly. "That's sweet."

"No, but, listen," Mason showed him an audio clip of Jules covering bass for one of their songs. Chris furrowed his eyebrows as he listened, running his fingers through his hair as his jaw went slack. "Shit. What? Geez— don't even tell the guys, they'll replace me."

Mason laughed loudly, ruffling Chris's hair.

masonfucker1000: no disrespect to christo, i think you're incredibly good. u could definitely be better than him! u should try the band thing, bro, if thats what u really want

familyjules: maybe. i have some stage fright too but been working on that. what do you do all day, mr. masonfucker?

Aw, fuck. This was going to get frustrating for the both of them real quick. Mason didn't want to lie, but he couldn't tell her what he actually did all day. He could maybe explain that he was going to have to keep some (a lot of) personal information to himself? That would sound weird. Mason stared at the message, unsure what to do. He could be a bit of a dick and reply with a joke. Or something really vague. He'd only known Jules for a little over a week but he had a feeling he might not get away with that.

masonfucker1000: how've you been working on it?

masonfucker1000: and i think the more appropriate question is who don't i do all day

Oh, God, that was bad. He regretted sending that one. Mason found himself not wanting her to actually think he slept around all day. Or at all. Fucking hell.

Jules frowned at the reply. This was... interesting, he guessed. Or something like it.

familyjules: so you're a prostitute? that's how you have so much money?

Mason couldn't help but laugh at the response.

masonfucker1000: what! no no

Mason grumbled to himself, rubbing his hands down in face.

masonfucker1000: that was a stupid thing for me to say, sorry

masonfucker1000: i have a job that requires a lot of travel

familyjules: okay that makes more sense. a traveling prostitute. sounds fun! what places have u seen?

Mason rolled his eyes, smiling.

masonfucker1000: oh, aaaall oooover the world. in the US rn, tho! i could put on a show for u ;)

familyjules: maybe i'll take you up on that offer ;)

familyjules: hey im about to upload a new cover btw! it just finished uploading

masonfucker1000: oh, another masterful christo strip!

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #lgbt fiction #lgbt stories #trans fiction #celebritystatus

[seriouslyhooked]

Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 10/?

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9. Also On FF Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So as promised this chapter picks up right where we left off with Emma going to get her man (finally) and then tracking the morning after. Basically the train is coming into smut station (at last). We’re also back to the dueling POVs so we will start with Killian and end with Emma this time. It’s smuffy and feels charged and was great fun to write and I really hope you guys will enjoy this. Anyway thank you for reading and I hope you all have a lovely rest of your day!

In the aftermath of the town’s harvest festivities, Killian found himself to be far more restless than usual. That was probably thanks to the fact that unlike other nights before, he knew that Emma would be coming home to an empty house and feeling the same kind of solitude that Killian experienced every day.

Part of his dueling emotions in the face of this was to think that neither of them should be feeling any kind of loneliness. What better moment could there be to soak up more quality time together then when they wouldn’t have to worry about interruption from Emma’s boy? Yet at the same time, and in a stronger, more tangible way, Killian was worried about Emma. From what he knew about her past and from the glimpses of her childhood that she’d shared with him, the thing Emma hated (and feared) the most was being alone.

And yes, technically it was just one night in a house that Emma had truly made a home. He assumed she’d faced this kind of situation before and that perhaps there had been evenings where she was apart from Henry prior to Killian’s moving to town, but the thought that there might even be a second tonight where Emma felt disheartened from being by herself tugged at his heartstrings, enough so that he was currently pacing the front hall of his house trying his best to get it together and keep collected.

“I’m making too big a deal of this,” he said aloud to no one but himself and a lazily dozing Luna who was curled up on the couch in the living room. “If she needs me, she’ll come. She knows she can come here.”

But the question wasn’t whether Emma knew that, rather it was whether she believed it. As far as they’d gotten in recent weeks there was still the element of her holding back and Killian knew part of that stemmed from her not wanting to inconvenience him or to need him too much. What she didn’t see, and what he’d been trying to show but in moderation so as not to scare her, was that Killian would always answer her call to action. Whatever Emma needed, whatever would make her happy, it would make him happy too and so none of it was a burden. When he said she was invited anytime no matter the hour, he meant it, and in this moment he was praying that she would choose to come here harder than he’d prayed for anything in a very long time.

At that moment Luna decided to intercede in Killian’s ranging thoughts with a loud meow and he looked over to his furry companion, finding that her ears had perked up. Was there something of interest to her now? Hell, maybe she found it comical that he was pacing like this and just felt like announcing that aloud in the only way that a cat could. But then Killian heard what had caught her attention too, footsteps making their way up the walk, followed swiftly by a soft knock at the door.

Killian couldn’t get there to open it fast enough because he knew in his gut it had to be Emma. No one else would ever be stopping by this late, and his heart began to race at the thought that she’d actually come. She’d chosen him, and for her to seek him out like this felt important. He was proud to be the man she chose to let into her heart and to make room for in her life, but then he opened the door and that rush magnified all the more, almost knocking him over with its intensity.

“Emma,” he said, not really meaning to speak but finding her name fell from his lips as if it were out of his control.

“So I see I didn’t wake you,” she teased as the porch light lit her up and brightened her smile even more. Emma was effortlessly beautiful out here and the fact that he could even respond at all was a bloody miracle.

“Oh but you did, love. Before you… hell I feel like I can’t even remember a time before knowing you. I must have been sleeping or worse, and then all that changed when I found you.”

His words were deep and had given more intimate feelings away than he was prepared to offer, but that was the risk he ran in following his heart. Sometimes things just needed to be said, and this was one of those times. Killian couldn’t regret it, and he didn’t have to, not when Emma’s reaction was to step into him and kiss him with the same passion they’d displayed back at the fair minus the worry of being found out.

With swift movements and a distinct feel of purpose Killian brought Emma inside closing the door behind them and bolting it shut quickly. He didn’t want to think about particulars; all he wanted was to finally taste the bliss this woman had been offering him since their first kiss. Holding Emma like this, feeling her heat and her anxious anticipation right there at the surface as she met him beat for beat was almost too much to handle, but the only way to survive was to move forward. If they were interrupted again or called upon to stop this he might just lose his mind, but if they kept going and followed these urges then he’d be branded by her forever even more than he already had been. It was a hazard of the heart, but there was no choice to make, not when the potential prize was belonging to Emma and finally securing this thing between them in a more substantial way.

As if they were of the same mind, Emma and Killian both moved further into the house, kissing and grasping and breathing the other in until they reached the stairs where they broke apart only for the length of time it took to ascend to the next floor hand in hand. When they were in the upper hall Killian pulled Emma back to him again, reveling in the feel of her lush curves pressed against him and noticing the way her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide with the delicious thrill of what would come next.

“Before we do this, Emma, I think it’s only fair for me to tell you that this will change things. I’ve been holding off and trying to take this as slow as I can, but if I have you then that ability will crumble. One taste won’t be nearly enough.”

“I know,” Emma responded immediately, her hand coming up to his cheek, her fingertips tracing his jawline with a softness designed for seduction even in its innocence. “I’m ready for that. I’m ready for this.”

That was all Killian needed to hear to pick her up into his arms and get her into his bedroom as fast as he possibly could without putting her at risk. It was still too long though, and by the time her feet were on the floor again, Killian wanted to be ten steps further than they were. He wanted her bared to him, spread out on the sheets of his bed and ready to take the pleasure he was intent on giving her, but it wouldn’t do to rush, not when they could only have this first time once in their whole lives.

Instead of following the animalistic and primal voices in his brain to take her fast and hard and without delay, Killian bolstered himself to a new plan and one that would prove so much more gratifying. He helped Emma out of each piece of her clothing, stripping away her shirt and skirt until she was standing there before him in nothing but two white scraps of lace and that blasted flower crown in her hair. Her eyes noticed how his appreciative and ravenous gaze moved up her body and landed on the accessory and then she blushed a brilliant shade of crimson as her hand came to remove it from the tangled curls of her hair.

“Sorry, I forgot I still had this on,” Emma exclaimed as she put it down on the bedside table and ran her fingers through her the blonde locks. Killian meanwhile was unable to deny the urge to move towards her and hold her once more, his fingers tracing over the smooth lines of her body and feeling the petal soft touch of her skin on his.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. A crown suits you, love,” he said and Emma’s lips curled up into a smile before her hands came to roam across his body as well, pulling his shirt away first and then drawing down a lazy path along his chest and abs to the button of his jeans where they teased him further.

“Does it? So what does that make me, a princess? A queen…?”

Killian groaned not at the words but at the action of Emma’s expertly getting past the fastenings of his pants and pushing down the denim he was wearing, revealing his hard length to her sights at last. She was totally in control right now, the embodiment of a seductress in every conceivable way, and then she took him in hand and he was lost to the feel of it, knowing it was so good but that it would be nothing to what they were going to have in just a little bit more time.

“You could be anything you want, Swan, but to me you’re everything.”

A second passed with those charged words that said so much crackling between them and time felt like it was coming to a total stop. In the corners of his vision Killian swore the room got brighter, that the light around them shone with an unnatural but transcendent golden hue. Yet he didn’t give a damn, not when Emma was on him, her hands coming back around his neck and her lips crashing to his. The tides had shifted, the last line of resistance snapped, and Killian could feel how badly Emma wanted this and how ready she was to be loved in the way she deserved.  She was starved for it, holding onto him like a lift raft in the midst of a terrible storm, and he was right there with her, knowing she was the anchor to the good things he’d found in his life and never wanting to be swept out into the world’s mediocre seas again. All he wanted was Emma and he’d have her right bloody now.

Getting them back to his bed with Emma underneath him was something out of a dream, and there had been many a night that Killian imagined something like this playing out until sleep had finally taken him. He’d taken himself in hand day in and day out imagining the moment when the stars would align and he’d finally get to make love to Emma and each of these fantasies varied in their detail and direction to the point where he felt he’d conceived every possibility under the sun. But those imaginings were hardly expansive enough. They’d never contained this bursting of emotion or the insatiable want low in his gut. They had imagined Emma in all her splendor with that effortless beauty of hers on full display, but in the flesh it was even more enchanting and he entered this state of mind sharp enough to take everything about her in while still feeling every action and touch and kiss all too keenly.

The only hope he had of not falling apart too soon or caving to the ecstasy that was Emma’s touch was pouring all his efforts and intentions on her. It began with roaming hands and removing the bra she’d been wearing before he let himself explore and learn every spot and lick and nip that made her breathless. He traced the freckles on her body that had come from the summer sun but been concealed most of the times they were together. He riled her up with his fingers and his mouth until she was pleading for something more, and then he gave it to her with his hand moving lower and his fingers slipping past the last piece of fabric that kept them apart, touching her tender flesh and pulling a thready moan from her lips.

“Killian,” Emma crooned, her voice coming out ragged but making him harder all the same. The sound of her wanting licked against his skin like flames against ice and he was unable to resist it, purposefully pulling more cries of yearning from her just to luxuriate in those sighs over and over again.

There was nothing like Emma lost in pleasure, and as his thumb swirled against her clit and his fingers filled her one by one she gave more of that and more of herself. Every response set Killian alight, and every breathy sigh or arch for closeness was a sign he intended to follow until he’d led her right over the edge and she shattered beneath him, looking more beautiful than ever before.

“God you’re perfect,” he found himself saying as he looked down at her and brushed some strands of her curled blonde hair out of her eyes.

At the intimate motion and the sincere words of worship Emma blushed again but smiled. Killian didn’t know if she believed him in full, but she most certainly should because he meant it. He’d never met a person with more impact on his soul, and he’d never met a woman who could build him up and give him hope as she did. She had flaws perhaps, and secrets still that she held close but not close enough for him to miss, but Emma Swan was everything a man could ever want made real, and Killian still couldn’t comprehend how he was lucky enough to be here.

“I think I’m supposed to be the one with the compliments right now. That was…”

“Only the beginning, Swan,” Killian said with a grin and one more kiss before he trailed lower.

With meticulous attentions designed to entice at every stop, Killian allowed Emma’s body to climb once more to that riled state of being until his mouth kissed on her inner thigh and she jumped a bit as a result of her bubbling anticipation. Killian looked up to meet her now emerald colored eyes once more as his hands held her steady, needing to know that this was what she wanted and what he saw was irrefutable. Emma was just as desirous for this as he was, and Killian was never so glad for anything in his life.

When his tongue met her sensitive sex he could taste her need for him and feel her body writhing beneath his seductive onslaught. She was wound up tight, the desire twisting around inside her, and he built it up wanting to give her something she’d never forget and never tire of. With slow, particular attention he played each sensation to a tee and only when he himself was about to break from the sound of her crying out for release and the feel of her hands in his hair holding him close did he give her that second climax she’d been wanting so badly.

“Wow,” Emma said as Killian kissed back up her creamy skin until he was over her again. “I mean really, wow!”

Killian chuckled at the fact that Emma wasn’t at her most articulate right now. It was a great compliment to his actions that the woman who always had a witty retort at the ready was struck near speechless, but then she flipped the script on him with her hands on his body again, moving for his cock and intending to make him fall apart just as he’d done with her. The only hope of his not coming undone at the seams right there was to give into what she wanted – what they both wanted – and with just a few more words to tell her how he was feeling and to check that she still wanted this, Killian thrust inside her waiting heat and moaned aloud.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he said aloud, not even meaning to but unable to feel any shame. All he could feel was a deliriously tangible form of pleasure, and though Emma chuckled at his reaction, she was right there moaning with him a second later when he thrust in again.

“So good,” Emma replied, her hands clawing at him for purchase and her body moving beneath him. “More.”

Her wish was his command and they set a relentless pace built to hoist them both higher and higher before they were right at the precipice of falling again. For Killian it was torture of the sweetest kind, holding off from his own reward until Emma would come again, but then two little words from his Swan were enough to have him caving into everything he wanted and surrendering to her once and for all.

“Let go,” she whispered and he did right at the same moment that she fell over too.

They crashed together until they were both spent and glowing from this union that outshone all others, and just like Emma had been, Killian found himself speechless in the aftermath. He was totally dazed yet more invigorated than ever, still feeling that current of pure life and love racing through him. It was all thanks to Emma for he’d never felt anything like it in his life before, and his eyes gazed upon her, trying to make sense of an interlude that had just been too incredible to describe. What words were possibly worthy a moment like this when time had stood still and everything he’d ever wanted was finally in his grasp?

The only three words he could think right now were risky even if there had never been anything truer to Killian before. He wanted to tell Emma right here and right now that he loved her and that he would always love her. He wanted to tell her that he knew already about the magic and the strangeness and the hurt that she’d endured before. He wanted to make her see that nothing and no one would scare him away from this, that this was his place now, right beside her, for as long as she would have him. But most of all he wanted to tell her that he was hers, completely and without restrictions. His heart was now in her possession forever more and she should know that, but then she looked back at him with a shy, innocent expression, curling into his chest and holding on with a smile so sweet and so warm he couldn’t bring himself to say anything at all.

Killian couldn’t even contemplate endangering this kind of otherworldly joy, and if that was selfish of him so be it. He would proudly wear that mark of dishonor if it meant more precious moments of happiness with Emma right now. Happiness in romance, after all, was so fleeting a concept in his life up to this point, and for Emma too. So why should he mess with something just short of perfection, when he could linger here instead, at least for a little while longer.

“It’s never been like that for me,” Emma whispered against him, the confession tugging at Killian’s pride and sense of accomplishment as it washed across his skin.

“I think it goes without saying by now that has ever come close to you, Emma.” And truth be told, Killian knew that nothing ever would.

“So what you’re saying is it won’t be just a one time thing?” Emma goaded, but she didn’t realize she was poking the bear until Killian was on her once again, intent on proving to her all through the night just how permanent and habitual this new bond would be from here on out.

…………..

Stirring to sunlight streaming into unfamiliar windows, Emma woke the next morning and at first there was some confusion. This wasn’t her bed or her room or her house, and she was aching in places that hadn’t been touched in so long, but after a quick second it all came flooding back to her and the questioning melted into something so much better: real and unyielding happiness.

The comfort that Emma had found in Killian’s arms last night had been amazing and unlike anything she had ever known, and it was hardly over. Right now she was curled up into him feeling all of the warmth and safety he could provide, as if her sleeping self had been so attached to him and so desirous to stick by his side that she’d entangled herself here all evening. It was remarkable how close she felt to him, and in the light of day it also suddenly felt more real.

In a single word last night had been fantastic, and to be honest Emma had never had a night that she could even begin to compare it to. No other man that she had ever encountered in her past had been able to read her wants and her needs so clearly and bring her such pure and unadulterated pleasure. Plus Emma had certainly never felt a connection like the one she had with Killian in that moment. It was so strong and so bright and yet somehow effortless in all of its complexity. She was still dizzy from it all these hours later, and as her eyes gazed across his body and then back up to his face, which was totally relaxed in sleep, she couldn’t help but smile wider.  

It felt like a victory for Emma to even still be here. Sleepovers were never her thing in the past, at least not since Neal and his rejection of her, and yet this one had felt totally natural and instinctive. Of course she would choose Killian if given the choice and with Henry’s perfectly timed sleepover it was like everything had come together to provide them one perfect night. But Emma hated to think it would be over, that the clock had struck midnight and the magic had ended. Instead she wanted to keep it going as long as she could.

Looking over to the clock Killian had on the bedside table she noticed she still had a number of hours before Henry would be back and she decided to do something to show Killian how appreciative she was and to also symbolize her comfort here. It hadn’t escaped Emma’s notice that it was the little things she did to tie them together that brought Killian the most joy, and she figured there was no better way to seek that out then heading downstairs and making them some breakfast. Who knew? Maybe he’d wake up and come find her and they could fulfill a fantasy she’d had a time or two of her and him together in that big, spacious kitchen of his…

That thought alone was enough to have Emma moving, but before she disentangled herself from him completely, she pressed a kiss to his chest right above his heart, smiling when she noticed that Killian’s lips twitched up in sleep, as if his dream had just taken a particularly pleasing turn. It was so hard to leave, but Emma rallied, and with some expert maneuvering she was out of his bed and borrowing one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers before heading quietly out of his room.

Moving through the upstairs corridor of the house, Emma watched out for creakier floorboards that an older home like this would have, and right at the top of the landing she found Luna looking at the stairs dubiously, as if the prospect of descending them was beneath her. This made Emma laugh and she slowly crouched to pick the darling kitten up, finding the little girl more than willing to hitch a ride.

“I bet you have him tied around your little black paw, don’t you girl?”

A subtle purr was the only response Emma got from the tiny onyx colored cat but Emma didn’t need to be told. She was certain of Killian’s being a good pet owner despite his claims that he’d never done it before because he was the kind of man who always put his best foot forward. It was one of the things she loved most about him, all of that positivity despite not really having the backstory to merit it. It was endearing that Killian believed good things could happen and that he led his life as a good man in the meantime because he knew it was the right thing to do. It was also rare because Emma’s experience with men hadn’t always painted them as the best of the sexes.

As Emma turned the corner of the staircase she decided to shake away those comparisons again, actively trying to train herself away from thinking of Killian through an already biased lens of all her past romantic missteps. But her mind didn’t get the chance to start formulating what they’d have for breakfast or what new adventures would await them this morning because as she got downstairs she came face to face with a magical demonstration so damning she could do nothing but gape at the excess of it all. Her jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of it, but even this reaction was tame to what she was feeling inside which was complete and absolute panic.

“Oh shit!” Emma almost yelled and then she realized that she couldn’t risk waking Killian, not when she’d done this to his house.

Casting her glance around the living room Emma didn’t know what part was weirder, the fact that the whole room was filled with flowers and more magical plant life that should never have been there, or the fact that Killian’s furniture was suspended in mid air like it was floating on the same happy high Emma had just been embodying. There was this essence in the air of raw magic that shone gold and silver, almost like suspended mist to the unknowing eye, and the light coming through the windows was heightened by it all, casting the room in an almost ethereal kind of way so it looked like more of an enchanted refuge than a house at all. Emma almost didn’t dare to continue on, but she had to know… how bad was the damage and how far had it spread?

Further investigation proved that the problem was localized to the first floor, and Emma could begin to see why. At the front door there was a more pronounced magical essence, as if the first kiss they’d shared when Emma arrived last night sparked a chain reaction and their subsequent actions and lovemaking upstairs through the night had caused it to grow into something totally overwhelming. It was actually so bad that Emma knew she couldn’t handle it alone and that was all it took for her hands to start shaking and the panic to set in.

Oh my God he’s going to freak. He’s gonna think I’m a freak! I have to call someone. I have to – Ruby!

Her brain’s nudge in the direction of her best friend sent Emma scrambling for the phone that Killian had in the kitchen and she dialed her friend’s number praying that Ruby would wake up despite the early hour. After the third ring she almost cried in relief at the sound of her friend’s groggy and grumpy voice.

“Do you have any idea what time it is whoever you are? Because it’s way too early to be -,”

“Ruby it’s me!” Emma urged. “I’m at Killian’s and something happened, something with my magic. I need help.”

“Give me two minutes,” Ruby responded before hanging up and then Emma was pacing back and forth, not even able to focus on collecting some information on what kind of magic it was. She could be taking concrete steps to fix this but she couldn’t bear to and she was just glad that two minutes later Ruby was there and not alone. For right next to her, dressed in the PJs she’d slept in, was Belle with a book. And with Belle, a book in hand meant answers and hopefully, in this case, salvation from this crisis.

“Are you okay, Emma?” Ruby asked as soon as she walked in and Emma began to nod but then couldn’t seem to do it. She just opened the door urging them to be quiet as she pointed around them.

“Wow,” Belle whispered as she took it all in. “This is amazing, Emma. How did you do it?”

“I have no idea,” Emma confessed before giving them the briefest summary. She had come over to Killian’s, things had escalated in the intimacy department, and then she’d spent the night having admittedly the best sex of her life. The next thing she knew she was coming down to make breakfast and this was waiting for her.

“Okay so obviously right now we have to deal with this little flare up, but I should just mention that there’s no way we aren’t talking about the good parts of all of this later. Just fair warning,” Ruby said as she rolled up her sleeves and looked around as if sizing up the room. She walked over to one of the flowers (that was admittedly gorgeous and that Emma would have loved under different circumstances) and inspected it before turning back to Belle. “So what do we do Belle? Is there a reversal spell in that book of yours for magic of this caliber?”

“Not if Emma didn’t do this knowingly. The only thing we could do immediately as far as I can tell is send the magic elsewhere. We can’t destroy what we don’t know how to make.”

Emma had heard this rule before and it was one that she’d grown accustomed to in the first few months of her being in Storybrooke. It was why as a kid and in the first years of being Henry’s mother she’d had magical outbursts thanks to fear of her powers that she couldn’t then fix. It had taken coming to Storybrooke and being open with her gift and working hard to be an active participant in it instead of a bystander for her to learn control. But now everything was thrown out of whack for one reason – because she hadn’t yet told Killian about her magic and her magic was acting out until she would.

“So let’s send it. But damn there’s a lot of it, and this is a really big house... I don’t think it will all fit anywhere discretely.” Ruby said before a look of inspiration crossed her features. “I got it! We’ll send some to Emma’s and some to my place. Some back to yours and maybe Elsa and Mary Margaret too. Then we can all figure out what to do with it later.”

“Let’s just do it quick,” Emma said, finally finding her voice and a bit more of her strength now that they had a plan. “I don’t want Killian to wake up and see all of this.”

The thought of that happening had Emma closing her eyes again, trying to get her bearings and failing a little bit. All of her old doubts were rushing back to the surface, and not because of Killian but because of her. Her old scars were at it again and this outburst, this lack of control in the face of what had been an absolutely beautiful evening, hurt her. Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t she have told him about her magic before crazy shit like this happened? What was she waiting for that she didn’t already have?

“Would it really be so bad if he found it?” Belle asked then, bringing Emma’s attention back to her friends. “I mean as far as magic goes, this is some of the most beautiful work I’ve ever seen, Emma, and you made this because of how you feel about him. Maybe he’d be flattered. Maybe he’d enjoy it.”

“Maybe,” Emma admitted, yielding the fact to Belle and to herself that that might be true. “But it’s not how I planned it. Last night when we were together I finally realized how I wanted to do this – and I do want to do this – but not in this way… it’s too much too quickly.”

There was no more delicate way to say it without drudging up the terrible story of Emma’s one other magical reveal to a normal, non-magical man. Neal had freaked out over practically nothing, a little demonstration of what she could do when she made some kitchen cutlery levitate, that was it. He had no idea how much power Emma had and he’d labeled her an abomination, and though Emma knew that Killian was a better man than Neal had ever been in every way she still didn’t want to risk it. She had to take baby steps to keep her control on the situation and that was the only way she’d ever get past the fear and hopefully to the actual peace she’d tasted last night with Killian before all of this happened.

“Okay then, Emma. We’re following your lead. Let’s get this gone and go from there.”

It only took a minute for Belle to find a spell she thought may work, and with some tweaks to the language they were able to send the magical display to multiple places at once, moving through each room affected and cleansing it from the magic that had been, but they barely had finished up with the final room when Emma heard movement upstairs.

“Crap, he’s up. Could you guys -?”

“Sneak out the back door and get the hell out of dodge?” Ruby offered. “Yeah we got it, Ems, and so do you. Just… promise us you won’t take this out on Killian. Just because your magic did this doesn’t mean Killian isn’t your one. I think it actually means that he is, so trust your heart and trust him, even when it’s hard, okay?”

“I will,” Emma vowed truly meaning it. There was no way she’d blame for Killian for this at all, and even if all of this had happened, she wouldn’t let it detract from what they’d had last night or what they might have in the future.

“And don’t rush yourself out of here either,” Belle added hastily. “We’ll work on figuring this out. You work on enjoying the rest of your morning before Henry gets home. Got it?”

“I’ve got it,” Emma said with a small attempt at a smile and then her friends were gone and Emma was left with about thirty seconds to look like she was doing something before Killian made his way down the stairs and found her.

Quickly she gathered everything she’d need for pancakes from the cupboards and the fridge, collecting them together with a bowl and tossing ingredients in as fast as she could so by the time he was in the kitchen and his arms had come to wrap around her with her back to his chest it looked like she was well on her way. As soon as his touch came Emma jumped a bit, but then instinctively she settled, melting into him and feeling the comfort that being with Killian brought even in the midst of all sorts of chaos. What a relief it was to feel this again, because despite the promise to her friends and to herself just seconds ago she’d been terrified that the damage was done and she’d recede into her shell again. But that clearly wasn’t happening, not when she felt so much better just from Killian holding her like this.

“You had me worried for a minute when I woke up alone, love, but now I see you’ve been making breakfast and my feelings on the matter have shifted.”

“Have they?” Emma asked, her voice charged with the overwhelming sensations she’d been grappling with before now turned into something new. Killian always had this effect on her but now all of her earlier worries were being channeled into wanting that she couldn’t readily explain.

“Aye. I’ve always been rather fond of pancakes,” he said as his lips came to brush the spot just behind her ear and Emma sighed into the sensation, opening herself up better to him as her hands gripped the counter.

“Is that all you’re fond of?” Emma asked with an attempt at jest that somehow came out as more yearning as she turned around. Killian growled low at the insinuation, his hands coming to hold her more firmly as if he was scared she’d slip away from his grasp. Those eyes of his were radiating so much, expressing all of Emma’s own feelings back at her, and she felt caught in them and in him so substantially there was no fending it off.

“If you still have to ask that after last night then clearly I didn’t do my job…” Killian replied and Emma licked her lips as her eyes cast down to his mouth. She gulped harshly and shook her head.

“No you did. More than once.”

The grin Killian responded with was all ego and it should have been a turn off, but how could Emma fault him when he’d proven over and over again all through the night just how much right he had to be self assured? He’d taken her to new heights last night more than once, and though her pride wouldn’t allow her to bluntly confess it, she was already becoming somewhat addicted to that feeling and to him in general. Killian was too good to be true, but he was true, and for now at least he was hers and Emma wanted to lose herself in that blissful feeling of knowing they were together and each others however long she could.

Her fingers came up to run across his bare chest, teasing the bit of hair there and then they slipped lower, going for the drawstring of the sleep pants he’d put on to come and find her. She took the chance to trail her eyes lower at the same time, taking in yet again how unfairly attractive he was. How could anyone resist him? Emma didn’t know but she was done trying. Yet unfortunately for Emma’s ever-active imagination, and the restless energy she’d picked up from this morning’s debacle, Killian’s hands came up to stall her motions, keeping her from giving them what she knew they both wanted.

“Trust me love, waiting in this instance will pay off. For what I have planned we’ll want the food already cooked.”

A lust-fueled chill broke out over Emma’s skin and she shivered at the suggestion that he’d exhaust her and rile her so completely that she’d be unable to make pancakes in the aftermath. If someone had told her a day ago that was even possible she’d have laughed in their faces, but after last night… well Emma was willing to trust Killian’s instincts. If he said they’d be famished then she trusted him and she could hardly wait for the proof.

“And these plans of yours…” Emma prodded. “Any chance they don’t involve a change of setting?”

Jackpot! At her words Killian’s gaze heated all the more and she knew he was right on the edge of contradicting his earlier request and taking her right here and right now, but then he stopped, inhaling a steadying breath and darting his gaze to the counter. He reached for something then, something Emma couldn’t see, but when he brought it back up her heart stopped. It was a single pink flower, a remnant from the one’s she’d created overnight, but Killian didn’t look at it with any disgust or suspicion. Instead he tucked it in behind her ear with the gentlest touch, and then looked at her with all the love and affection he’d always shown her.

“The ‘plan’ is to give you everything, Emma. Everything you want you’ll have. I can promise you that.”

All Emma could think with that confession was that her one real want was for Killian to want her too. Emma wanted this thing between them to have its chance to grow and she wanted to be honest with him in every way. She wanted to dare to dream of dreams she’d long given up on, like finding a forever kind of love and a man to take on the roll of a father figure for Henry. She wanted to think about blending her life with someone’s and maybe having more kids. But more than anything, she wanted Killian to stay, and from this promise, Emma believed that he would now and always.

But for now, all of that would have to wait and with a chaste kiss and some inquiries about what he could do to help, Killian began steering them in the direction of just enjoying their morning and soaking up every happy moment that they could. They managed to get their breakfast together, and as requested they found that mind blowing pleasure right there on the kitchen counter before eating and spending the rest of the morning hours together. And later, when Henry returned and things had to return to ‘normal’ once more, Emma was thrilled to find that her normal was changing, and that despite the hiccup with her magic, things had really never been better and there was so much hope in her heart that they’d continue to be so as long as she had Killian.

Post-Note: It’s so exciting to get this chapter out there and to be able to say this – next chapter there will definitely be the magical reveal. Finally finally finally I’m ready to write it (and I have already begun doing so in the hopes it won’t take too long to update, maybe about a week)! As you can all probably guess the installment will be feels filled because of this final step of honesty and trust, but there will be a kind of twist to it that I haven’t really hinted at very much. Anyway, I hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter and I want to thank you all so much for reading and for your kind words. All your lovely messages and reviews always make my day so keep them coming! Thanks again!

#captain swan #captain swan au #CS modern AU #captain swan fic #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs smut #cs au #cs mc #emma swan #killian jones #ruby lucas #belle french #captain swan ff #some call it magic #some call it magic au #some call it 10 #ouat au #real world magic au

[nosamlight]

chapter one

Jules, grinning mischievously, set the game discs down in a row on the hardwood in front of the TV stand. Rosa’s heels clicked on the floor as he did and she moved in anticipation of what she was about to do. He set the last disc down gently after kissing it, then stood up to admire the line. His gaze turned to Rosa, who looked down at them, then back up at him.

“Yes, princess, you can go ahead,” he said with a flourish and bow, tossing the cases on the floor.

The discs cracked under Rosa’s heels as she jumped on them, stomped on them, ground them into the floor. She leaned down and picked up the pieces afterward, too, snapping them and tossing them on the bed. After she’d done that to every single one, she stomped all of the cases, tossing them on the bed as well.

She was fucking ruthless, and Jules loved it. He loved his sister, and that was exactly why he was doing this shit. He stomped the last one before her, his combat boot snapping the plastic case’s edge, then kicked it over to her. She did the same, then set it in front of the TV, smiling sweetly.

“Hope you enjoy your gameless existence, you dick,” she murmured, already unplugging the Playstation from the TV. “This is what you get for trying to rape me.”

Jules felt his stomach fall at her words, but knew it was true. A week ago, he and his friend Sam had walked in on Rosa and Dickwad Josh at a party. Rosa had been trying to push Josh off her, and it took both Jules and Sam to get him away.

As usual, they’d both guaranteed they’d exact their revenge, and make it ten times worse than what they usually did because the guy had almost succeeded.

They showed up at his house when they were sure he was gone, and went inside to speak to his parents. They’d listened as Rosa described what happened, and Jules told them he’d witnessed it and that their son was a dick in the first place too, who would sometimes grope Rosa in front of everyone.

They’d all agreed he needed to learn a very, very severe lesson.

So, naturally, they showed them both up to his room and told them what they could destroy. They both took the opportunity to kill his games, and were now dismantling his Playstation and controllers.

Once they had everything gathered in their arms, they went downstairs and outside. Jules waved a controller affectionately at his parents, who grinned back at him. They’d hated how much Josh played games, anyway, and they were really nice people in a not so good neighborhood. There was a kid down the street who would kill for the console, so Jules and Rosa knocked on the door happily.

“Hi,” Rosa said, grinning. “We’re from the house down there, the Pinnows. Uh— Well, Josh, their son, he knew that your kid really wanted a Playstation and that you guys couldn’t get one, so we come bearing a gift.”

They both lifted the console and cords. “It’s a little worn, but Josh wanted you guys to have it.”

The dad took it thankfully, a little shocked as he laughed. “Holy shit. Thank you.”

After a little bit of awkward conversation, they left again, grinning at the good deed they did in the middle of revenge. Jules shoved at Rosa. “You feeling better?”

“Fuck yes. He deserves all this shit. Dick.” Rosa laughed, clapping her hands together. She rubbed them greedily. “What can we destroy now?”

“How about slashing his tires? Make him pay, sis,” Jules said, passing her his pocket knife. He took her hand and set it in her palm, then kissed her forehead. “Careful, though. We don’t need you slashing your hand open.”

Mason Hill moved his head along to the music blasting into his eardrums as he fucked around on his laptop. He was in the mood for going incognito online, wanting to interact with fans without them knowing it was him. He had been hearing about this awesome Nosam forum for a while but hadn't made an account yet. He figured it was time for that to change. He cracked his knuckles in front of his chest and stuck out his tongue, grinning as he saw the first empty text box to fill beside the word Username.

"Easy," he murmured to himself, immediately typing masonfucker1000 into the box.

He frowned at the next prompt. Name? Huh. He drummed his fingers against his leg, glancing at Austin, sitting nearby him on the tour bus. "Dude, what was your middle name again?"

Austin gave him a curious look as he stopped playing his guitar, pushing his glasses up. "Elías? Why do you ask?"

Mason clicked his tongue at him, winking. "Nothing important. Nice name, handsome."

Austin opted not to respond, shaking his head and watching him suspiciously before going back to his guitar.

Mason typed Elías into the box. He figured a shit ton of people were 23 and it would be harmless to put that in, so he did that too. He put in a fanart edit of himself as the image— him wearing a flower crown, one of his favorites— and hit Create Account, smiling in satisfaction. He went to the welcome thread to make his first post.

masonfucker1000: hey!! im maybe older than most fans but I just wanted you all 2 know that even though im straight, i would let mason hill do anything he wanted to me

Austin kept glancing up at him, effectively distracted by Mason wanting his middle name for what was probably a horrible reason.

“Seriously, what are you doing?”

“Joining a Nosam forum, obviously,” Mason scooted closer to him, moving the laptop close to his face with a flourish.

Austin stared at the screen, looking from the glittery website’s title, to the header with their faces, and then to Mason’s post. “Why are you always so disturbingly narcissistic to the point where I’m almost certain you’d actually fuck yourself if given the opportunity?”

Mason tilted his head, nodding as he spoke. “Because I would, Ozzie,” he pecked his neck and then, mouth at his ear, repeated in a whisper. “Because I would.”  

Jules, alone in his bedroom after the revenge-destroying, was fucking around on the Nosam forum. As usual. He was one of the top members, had helped design the site as a school project, was friends with about half the people on the site, and loved them all. They were really his only friends, so it was easy to love them all.

He refreshed the page just in time to see a new comment in the welcome thread. No one had joined in a while, so it was interesting. It wasn’t exactly the most popular website, so… Oh, their name was Elias… That was Austin’s middle name. Maybe he’d finally have another Austin stan.

And of course, they loved Mason. God damn it, everyone did. He sighed but hit reply anyway. A new friend was a new friend.

familyjules: hey elias! welcome to the nosam fanbase!!! also: ew but go off i guess ;)

Mason gasped loudly, falling back against the small sofa. "Ew? Ew?"

He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration as he immediately replied.

masonfucker1000: jules! hi! thanks! also! what the hell! how can you resist the unique and godly allure that only mason joshua hill possesses?

Jules snorted, rolling his eyes. He leaned on his wall as he typed, laughing a little to himself.

familyjules: i’m too entranced by the unique and godly allure that only austin possesses, ....masonfucker1000. i just realized this point is totally moot but i’m still gonna fight it to my dying breath: austin elías salinas vicente is better than mason hill in so many ways but i respect your opinion my dear masonfucker

Mason sighed loudly and took off his snapback, throwing it at Austin, who yelped in surprise.

"What the hell?"

Mason glared at him. "That's for having a godly allure, Salinas."

Austin sputtered, confused.

masonfucker1000: you say you respect my opinion, familyjules? really? u might as well have spat in my face. austin. better than mason. my god. i will try to coexist peacefully with radical beliefs such as urs.

also: is ur profile pic u?

Jules laughed at the dramatics. He hadn’t had this much fun meeting someone in a while. They were actually taking his jokes as jokes.

familyjules: thank you for your precious coexistence, fellow radical believer. and yeah dat me

Mason didn't know why the Nosam fanbase just happened to be super attractive, but he always appreciated nonetheless.

masonfucker1000: my dude, fellow believer, may i just say that ur face is v nice to look at. one might even say it radiates a certain godly allure

Jules blushed a little. People had called him attractive before, but not like that. Damn.

familyjules: thank you!! i guess ur pfp is kinda okay to look at... ;)

Mason huffed, pouting. That was just not at all fair. He couldn’t even defend his own good looks.

masonfucker1000: ha. ha. so how long have u been into nosam? sorry, i meant: how long have u been brainwashed into thinking nosam was called nitsua?

Jules laughed at that one. It was good. Elias was funny.

familyjules: i actually laughed at that one! nitsua just sounds like a ninja name or something. and i’ve been into them since their first ep came out! found them on youtube and felllllllll. how about you?

Mason grinned. Hardcore fan. Hell, yeah. Call him a narcissist. Nosam was awesome and superbly talented, and Mason appreciated when other people knew it.

masonfucker1000: me too! nosam sorta changed my life. listen to them way more than a sane person should.

Someone else on the thread pointed out that that page was for welcoming and not conversation. Mason stuck out his tongue at his laptop screen.

masonfucker1000: whoops. heading to gen, familyjules?

Jules sighed a little at the comment, rolling his eyes. He’d made the website. It was his rule. And he’d broken it.

familyjules: whoops. yeah. i’ll tag u in a thread

familyjules: @masonfucker1000 here we are. what yt video did you see first?

masonfucker1000: teenage dirtbag cover! iconic as hell. have u ever seen them live? its the most fun i've ever had.

familyjules: hell yes! i love that one! and no ): but i’ve got tickets to a show this tour and im hype. gonna scream my ass off

Mason's eyes widened. Oh, yes. Mason befriending a fan and that fan attending a Nosam concert? That would be beautiful.

masonfucker1000: really?? where? what day? on the off chance im going to the same 1

familyjules: Traverse City, MI. gonna glitter my face off too i’m gonna look great

masonfucker1000: oh nah not going there! glitter! nosam hype! fuck yeah, i believe u, u already look great as is. michigan, huh? the hell do u do for fun there?

familyjules: hockey, mostly. play bass too. try to run away from my family while blasting pop punk since no one gets me. freeze to death in snow

masonfucker1000: hockey?? ur tiny! i think! bass is rad, how long have you been playing? pop punk is the shit, i get u, bro

Jules smiled a bit. At least he didn’t say he was a girl.

familyjules: bet i can whoop your ass even if i am tiny! and ive been playing for 5 years now. lots of nosam covers in the media thread if u wanna check it out! we gots a talented group here

masonfucker1000: i bet u can i can barely hold a stick.

a future seluj! charmed to meet u pre-fame. will def check out.

Mason headed to the media thread and clicked on one of the audio files Jules had uploaded. His eyes widened, and he turned up the volume.

Andrew, who had sat down in the far corner like the fucking loner he was, looked up at Mason as basslines filled the small space. "Hey, who's that? Not Chris, is it?"

Mason shook his head, mumbling, "Fan cover."

Andrew snorted, "Shit. That's good. You should show that to Chris when he gets back."

Mason played a few more covers, very impressed and a little doubtful.

masonfucker1000: c'mon. c'mon, jules. no way that's u.

familyjules: oh hell yeah that’s me. ask anyone on here i love playing so much. covered a few starlight songs too but i’m not as good at those yet. are u into them too?

masonfucker1000: sure, sure. u stripped from chris, admit it, jules.

fuck yeah! love those badass ladiesss!

familyjules: whoa, dude, i’d never. if anything i’d strip for austin. if stella wouldn’t kill me

masonfucker1000: pipe dream, jules. stella would 100% kill you. and then strip for austin herself.

Jules sighed wistfully at that image. They were both ridiculously hot, and Stella stripping was just a mental image to frame and make lifesize on the mantel above the fireplace.

familyjules: can’t even join them? damn. my dreams are gone. can i share mason w/you then, masonfucker? he’s the only single one of all of them... wait. does your username mean you’re his hand then? shouldn’t you have his hand as your pfp?

Mason's jaw dropped. "Holy fuck. I've never felt so roasted in my entire fucking life. Holy shit. Fucking— familyjules," he breathed a laugh, already typing out a response eagerly. Andrew rose an eyebrow at him, an action that Mason didn’t even notice.

masonfucker1000: shit! how could u do him like that? he gets plenty of attention other than his hand! lots of it! mason hill gets around! its basic info!

familyjules: ha! uses the other hand sometimes? ;)

Mason lifted his arms behind his head. "This fucker!" he laughed again, rubbing his hands down his face. This Jules girl was ridiculous. If only she knew who she was talking to but... no, not a good idea. He stared at the screen, frowning as he realized he really wanted to keep talking to her, forgetting to respond and tapping his fingers against the laptop. He flipped Andrew off when he kept staring at him, taking the laptop and laying in his bunk instead. He could easily just not respond, like, ever. It wouldn’t matter at all. Jules was just some random fan he’d stumbled onto online, who had no idea who Mason was, with whom Mason had only had half a conversation with. Hell, he usually didn’t even have more than a conversation with people anyway, always having so many he wanted to talk to. But it wasn’t ever like this. And it was stupid, really, how drawn he felt from just a couple hundred words on a screen, from a stranger. It wasn’t even a good font.

Mason pursed his lips, sighing quietly as he stared at the forum page, at the slight curve of Jules’ mouth in her profile picture. He abruptly switched tabs, checking his Twitter and replying to some fans. He Googled other fansites, ones he already had accounts on, and sifted through the threads, trying to find something else to do.

It was a bit before Elias responded again. Jules fucked around with other things on the site while he waited, scrolled through Tumblr, and then went back. He private messaged Elias, frowning a little.

familyjules: hey dude. just so you know i fuck with all the mason superfans like that. it’s way too easy to roast mason

Mason was startled when he heard a ping as he had finally distracted himself from familyjules. He hesitated barely a second before switching back, smiling as he read the message.

masonfucker1000: yeah its cool! got distracted. ur wrong tho. completely wrong. masons a regular manwhore

familyjules: cool all good. just wanted to make sure you weren’t actually mad! and trust me i know far too many girls on here have talked about seeing his dick

masonfucker1000: mad? over that? dont worry, bro, not at all

gh! and they all say his dick is huge. which is false. have u seen him in skinny jeans? he's got an average dick, ladies. an average dick with an above average heart

familyjules: damn dude. at least you’re honest unlike them. also sometimes it looks big so i wonder who’s right👀

masonfucker1000: average dick.

fuck im starving. what do i have to do to get some pizza up in hereeeee

familyjules: be mason hill?

familyjules: kidding! i’ll send you some

masonfucker1000: you be careful or ill end up taking your word for it!! i swear my stomach is going to start eating itself

They ended up talking for a bit longer, but then Jules had to sleep, which made Mason pouty. It was rare for him to enjoy talking to someone this much, but Jules had a late shift the next day and classes all day, so he said goodbye and logged off, promising to be back same time the next day.

♦️

It kept like that for a week. Jules talked to Elias whenever he could, along with his other friends. He felt drawn to Elias for some reason, compelled to let the mysterious user eat up all his time.

familyjules: so. mr. masonfucker. you’ve only got two things on your profile and it’s been a week. not even a small introduction to tell us about yourself other than you’d let mason have his way with you? i’m curious ;)

During the week, Mason had become gradually more excited every time he had the chance to be online when Jules was, which had thankfully been coinciding with after Nosam sets. He bit his lip as he read the newest message from her.

masonfucker1000: oh, youre curious? maybe i like the suspense ;) what about u, miss familyjules? im very curious about u. ur short bio is frankly not enough

Jules winced at the response. So Elias did think he was a girl. He could set him straight... but he knew nothing about this person except that he was cis and straight. He seemed cool, but Jules really didn’t want to deal with a huge messy fight on the site right now.

familyjules: hey, you know i live in michigan. and what i look like. and that i play bass and play hockey. i don’t even know what you do for fun, aside from stan mason. c’mon, dude

Mason groaned. God, he could just disappear right now, not talk to her ever again. But he'd be fucking bummed. Was he just lonely? I mean, tours got like that sometimes. Maybe he just needed stress relief, although that was off the table at the moment. Shit. This wasn't a... thing. Was it?

masonfucker1000: alright, alright! well, i do not live in michigan. i look like a burnt chicken nugget but i still love myself! i like singing and i've seen Real Steel abt a thousand times. how about that?

familyjules: real steel is awesome! and singing! maybe you should be in seluj with me one day. we’d take over the world, displace nosam

masonfucker1000: hell yeah! I'll let hugh jackman have at all this too 🥒🍆

displace nosam? ur blocked

masonfucker1000: kidding! totally up for it, let's go. altho it should be called saile, then

familyjules: hey, you’re the one who named it seluj in the first place! maybe we’re getting ahead of ourselves tho. havent even heard u sing. for all i know you could suck

masonfucker1000: thats where you're wrong, jules! that's where you're wrong! hold on

Mason paced the tour bus, considering his options. He had to show her he could sing. If he sang a song nobody had ever heard him do, maybe it would be alright?

masonfucker1000: uploaded suckonthisjules.mp3

masonfucker1000: go the distance! Hercules is my favorite disney movie. see? proof of my awesome talent and a fact abt me

Jules blinked in shock at the file, clicking play and leaning back. He listened, transfixed, picking at his lip.

familyjules: holy shit elias you sound a lot like mason. did you train your voice or what? there were a few places where you were off key but god damn. also hercules is so underrated

"Oh, fuck," Mason said as he read the response. "Wait— off key?" he glared at his laptop.

Andrew snorted. "A few minutes ago? Yeah."

Mason turned his glare towards Andrew. "I was not off key."

Andrew just laughed and shook his head, stuffing his face with chicken.

Mason frowned. It's not his fault his voice was a little strained after the show. No way he was gonna admit it, though.

He deleted the file he sent.

masonfucker1000: ah yeah, a bit.

and go to hell. off key, my ass! i told you I can sing. hercules is def underrated! yo where do u go all day?

Jules frowned when the messages shifted. He scrolled back up to find the file gone. “Oh, come on,” he muttered. How paranoid could this guy be? It was a fansite. Who cared?

familyjules: def off key a bit. you deleted the file because of it, i see you, devil 👀

familyjules: oh also i’m a working college student! class by day, waiting tables by night

masonfucker1000: i did not!

oh shit, nice! well, horrible, but nice. i bet you get good tips ;) what are u studying?

familyjules: you’d be surprised how bad the tips are. studying music and psych, but the psych is a minor

masonfucker1000: jules ill go over there and tip you, you'll be set for life. so ur serious abt music huh? what do u wanna do?

familyjules: so youre rich. another thing i know now. and hell yeah i am! i want to work w/ a recording company if i can, fill in bass. more freelance than i’d like but it’s something

masonfucker1000: 🤑

masonfucker1000: woah woah wait. ur settling! what would you like?

familyjules: settling? i don't call getting to play bass for a living settling

familyjules: what i really want tho is to play in a band but that's unlikely

masonfucker1000: uh huh

masonfucker1000: i knew it! c'mon, unlikely? you're as good as chris if you're not lying abt not stripping his bass 👀 maybe even better

familyjules: WHOA dude dont disrespect christo like that he's a huge role model!! i wish i could be as good as him

Mason smiled, getting up to bother Chris. "Yo, hey, dude?"

Chris looked up from his laptop, rubbing his forehead. "Huh?"

"You know that girl I've been talking to that plays bass. She says you're her role model and got offended when I said she probably plays better than you."

Chris smiled warmly. "That's sweet."

"No, but, listen," Mason showed him an audio clip of Jules covering bass for one of their songs. Chris furrowed his eyebrows as he listened, running his fingers through his hair as his jaw went slack. "Shit. What? Geez— don't even tell the guys, they'll replace me."

Mason laughed loudly, ruffling Chris's hair.

masonfucker1000: no disrespect to christo, i think you're incredibly good. u could definitely be better than him! u should try the band thing, bro, if thats what u really want

familyjules: maybe. i have some stage fright too but been working on that. what do you do all day, mr. masonfucker?

Aw, fuck. This was going to get frustrating for the both of them real quick. Mason didn't want to lie, but he couldn't tell her what he actually did all day. He could maybe explain that he was going to have to keep some (a lot of) personal information to himself? That would sound weird. Mason stared at the message, unsure what to do. He could be a bit of a dick and reply with a joke. Or something really vague. He'd only known Jules for a little over a week but he had a feeling he might not get away with that.

masonfucker1000: how've you been working on it?

masonfucker1000: and i think the more appropriate question is who don't i do all day

Oh, God, that was bad. He regretted sending that one. Mason found himself not wanting her to actually think he slept around all day. Or at all. Fucking hell.

Jules frowned at the reply. This was... interesting, he guessed. Or something like it.

familyjules: so you're a prostitute? that's how you have so much money?

Mason couldn't help but laugh at the response.

masonfucker1000: what! no no

Mason grumbled to himself, rubbing his hands down in face.

masonfucker1000: that was a stupid thing for me to say, sorry

masonfucker1000: i have a job that requires a lot of travel

familyjules: okay that makes more sense. a traveling prostitute. sounds fun! what places have u seen?

Mason rolled his eyes, smiling.

masonfucker1000: oh, aaaall oooover the world. in the US rn, tho! i could put on a show for u ;)

familyjules: maybe i'll take you up on that offer ;)

familyjules: hey im about to upload a new cover btw! it just finished uploading

masonfucker1000: oh, another masterful christo strip!

prologue | chapter two (coming soon!)

#chapter one #story #nosamlight

[oh-my-otome]

Midnight Cinderella Suitor’s Fashions

@aquisces-arts wanted to see what the suitors would look like in modern clothes, so I did my best conceptualizing what each would wear and why.

Let’s start with King Byron:

Byron dresses very monochromatically-- wearing different shades of black head to toe, and choosing gold accents that catch the light. 

If you look at his hair, you can see that his wisps are very controlled. Even his cowlick is styled neatly. He would probably use a light pomade. The details on the jeans give texture without distraction, like his black casual shirt in the game. 

The gold zipper on the knees also satisfies his love of gold hardware. If you notice, Byron does not wear jewelry aside from his earring, which he shares with Nico, so I think a planetary key chain would be a good choice for him, as it combines his star-gazing hobby with an outlet for an accessory.

Of course, a Rolex is a must, and I think he would always give himself a chaste spritz of cologne before stepping out of the door. This scent is unisex and has a dry-down that smells of vanilla, woods and leather.

I don’t think he would shy away from stylish shoes-- he may even be a subtle trend-setter. Because Byron can hold his liquor with the best of them, and because he doesn’t tend to let himself get too casual out in the open, I thought martini glass novelty socks would be a fun twist. It would be his own little secret. While it may not be that wild of a thing for the rest of us, considering Byron’s aloof personality, he may feel that it really is daring indeed.

Let’s keep going with another king, Robert:

Robert’s overcoat may be green, but he actually wears a lot of brown and beige. I feel like Robert would want to keep a low profile-- he’s not into drawing attention to himself.

Robert seems like he would be at home in comfortable clothes that are no-fuss, and extra-comfy. He may purposefully fly coach, but his fancy schmancy luggage would be designer first class-- the better to spot it on the carousel in the airport. 

I think he would splurge on some plush headphones to pass the time on the plane, as he country-hops. Since he likes rather long necklaces, I kept the length, but changed the style, so that it wouldn’t compete with his favorite tee. 

Because he likes to switch up his hair-do, flexible shaping spray is a must; and you just know he’s the type to carry a pocket comb. I also added some scrub because he just seems like the type to exfoliate at least once a week. 

In his bag, he probably has a small journal for jotting down whatever corner bistros catch his fancy. Maybe he even has a small sketch pad and colored pencils, too, for when inspiration strikes.

As for footwear, he would need something super comfortable to carry him from museum to museum. The paint splatter on these are a callback to his profession.

Here’s what I think Nico would wear:

Because Nico’s hair is already dyed pink, I think he wouldn’t try to be too matchy with his clothing. One item that matches and that’s it, so I tied in the color of his locks with a button-down. The pants give him ease of movement, since he does all types of ninja stuff when you’re not looking. Plus it has lots of pocket space; you just know he’s got all types of short swords, poison darts, tea cups and whatever else. As one does.

As Nico is the only suitor who canonically conceal-carries, I thought having him carry a large pocket knife, with other accessories, would suit his tastes. Nico also tends to wear suspenders, both on his butler uniform and his casual clothes, so I gave him a pair here as well. 

He seems, to me, to be the type who just sticks their hand in the closet and puts on whatever comes out, so I gave him items which are both black and brown to maximize his styling options for whatever he throws on that day. 

He has a comfortable pair of shoes for quick escapes. Nico likes wearing scarves and neckties. Here, I’ve given him a bandana instead, which he can wear for fashion or use as a bandage. In keeping up with his big bro, they have the same headphones, only Nico’s are silver.

Here, Nico’s overall look reflects his character: completely unassuming badass.

I feel like Alyn would be a sneaker head:

He tends to make his shoes the focal point. He would be the type to have a whole closet section just for his shoes. He needs style and function-- something that would suit his tastes and also allow him to defend the princess even when off-duty. I feel like he would choose hard-toe boots and sneakers with a lot of cushioning.

Alyn keeps his shirts plain, almost always choosing raglan shirts and henleys in baby soft modal cotton. He goes with a basic feel-good pair of jeans in a deep color, every time.

He almost always chooses to wear red and navy together. Playing up the red in his eyes, and his auburn hair, you can find that color in everything from his tees, to his shoes, to his phone case. 

As he is technically always on duty to guard the princess, Alyn, like Nico, would carry a small knife. Since he wears a necklace with almost every outfit as it is, I chose to give him a ring instead. 

Alyn trains hard everyday as part of his job, so I feel like he would be concerned about smelling like it, too. This exfoliating soap smells of cedar wood and oak moss, and would keep him smelling so fresh and so clean.

Leo, like his twin, also accessorizes with red a lot:

I didn’t want to make them too matchy, though. Unlike Alyn, Leo tends to roll his sleeves up, so I gave him a tee, plus a flannel shirt that has tabs to hold up the sleeves. Leo calls more attention to himself, so he would like louder jeans than Alyn, who doesn’t go in for distressing.

Leo wears a lot of hardware every day, so I simplified it to just a bracelet and a necklace. The dog tag has a cross on it, just like Leo’s brooch. Because he is afraid to sleep, I imagine Leo drinks a lot of coffee to keep himself awake. Since he’s always encouraging the princess, I chose a coffee mug that encouraged him instead.

If you look at his sprites, Leo wears a lot of different materials, so to visualize that, I went with different textures. The stars on his sneakers are raised, the tee is textured jersey for softness, and the jeans have mock rips. To pull in the reds that he goes for, I thought he would like this phone case with a colorful snake.

Let’s do Giles:

I feel like Giles would be the type of person who would be chucking deuces on the way out of the office door, on a Friday, like “lmao, see you suckers!” 

He would be as dressed down as possible. He wears so many hats, so I think he would be the most likely to sleep in. Rather than drinking coffee, he would probably have a hot chocolate overflowing with marshmallows to satisfy his sweet tooth.

I gave him a feather soft twin set with flocking so that he could cozy up with his kitty and get some shut eye. But, should the princess suggest it, Giles would throw on some smart duds and hang out at the local coffee shop, no matter how pooped he felt. Here, he’s drinking a mocha cookie crumble frappacino. His second one that evening. And don’t touch his vanilla scones! Okay, maybe a bite-- a small one.

Albert has no chill, so I think that this is as dressed down as you’ll ever see him:

The jeans are quilted and paneled for a biker inspired look, and they are flexible enough that he can take down any attackers without a wardrobe malfunction. I didn’t give him a knife, because I thought he would probably go for hand-to-hand combat.

If Albert was going to make a statement, I think he would do it with actual words. So you can not only feel his disdain, you can read it, too. He’d definitely have a snarky coffee mug and his phone case reflects his work ethic.

Because Albert canonically works until he drops, his version of casual clothes are simply whatever is under his uniform that day. He just takes his coat off, but it probably feels like heaven to him at the end of the day. It looks so heavy!

While Alyn and Nico would have shoes with traction so they can do knight stuff, Albert would choose oxfords because he is also the king’s adviser. He has to do two jobs at once, so he needs to be able to look the part as he transitions between supporting the crown and actually defending it.

I gave him a sturdy watch and kept his glasses mostly the same. Since this is modern Albert, I imagine that he would wear contacts for the most part and switch to glasses after hours.

Albert often wears ties, but I gave him a dog tag made with black sapphire stones instead.

Louis wears almost all blue, so I added in some brown accents to switch it up:

I gave him some dressy-casual oxfords to take him from the ball room to the chic café in town. He has a patterned scarf since, like Nico, he can’t go without something covering his neck. Instead of gloves, I thought he might like a thick cuff bracelet. Louis looks so delicate, so I wanted to choose different materials and textures. 

I get the feeling that, no matter what, his sense of style is always semi-formal, but he tries to use at least one piece of clothing to make it a little casual. Even though he complains about the formalities of his social rank, he can’t quite bring himself to dress down like a townie, but he doesn’t feel like himself all dolled up in a tux either.

Louis’ hair is always on point-- and it looks so fluffy! But I bet if you touched it, it would be full of hair gunk to keep those tresses right where he wants them.

I wanted to give Sid something he could run to the store or hang out in:

I think Sid is very meticulous about his skincare and always buys the full product line. He would always have a pair of sunglasses in his pocket. His faux leather jacket has an attached hoodie, providing not only warmth-- but he can also use it to disguise himself.

I think this look will help him blend in, since he tends to go to more casual places to do his work. Similar to the hood, the sunglasses also give him an incognito look. Since Sid works all over in different countries, he would listen to music during his commute.  

I didn’t pair Sid with any fragrance, because I thought that would make him stand out more-- which is bad for the type of work that he does. He doesn’t need people remembering specific details about him, and the sense of smell is the strongest.

I don’t know much about Rayvis, but I wanted to style him anyway. He’s another one that wears a lot of one color, so I pulled out his accent color here:

He looks like a rather stiff person at first, so I imagined him as someone who has a really cute secret weakness, like indulging in decadent desserts at the end of the day. Chocolate strawberry cheesecake seems like it would do the trick, and it fit with the colors of his formal clothes.

For texture and mixed materials, his wool coat has leather sleeves, the maroon sneakers have plush velvet and the cable knit cap provides interest. 

I added a color-blocked button down and his black skinny jeans have distressing that you’d have to get up close and personal to see. 

His sunglasses also have a subtle hint of color. I don’t know what it is with MidCin guys and scarves, but I couldn’t let Rayvis be chilly, so I added something for him to cover himself with.

@astridapples, @widzzicles

#midnight cinderella #fashion #amalthea

[cornerverse-mlp]

I’ve mentioned my headcanons about the History in the Cornerverse-MLP world before, but I don’t think I’ve properly written it down. Well, I have but it was in a scrapped fic that was also an AU verse due to a mary-sue oc. So ‘Cornerverse-MLP’ is canon to ‘Cornerverse-MLP/Feria’, but ‘Cornerverse-MLP/Feria’ is not canon to ‘Cornerverse-MLP’. Squares and rectangles and all that.

Side note: Comics are not canon to Cornerverse-MLP, and neither are storybooks. EQG is 99% canon.  As the lore of the show is kind of contradictory, I’ve decided what to put in and what to ignore, mostly anything past the first few episodes of Season 5 are ‘pick and choose’ canon. Not just events, but the lore that is revealed(if you want to know why, send a message because that’s a different rant)  Plus there are some OCs I’m attached too so you can tear them out of my cold dead hands :)

Also, one of the ‘contradictory lore’ things is Hearth’s Warming, since it leaves out many things like, you know, Celestia, Luna, Discord, the Crystal Empire, etc. As such, I am going full ‘conspiracy theory’ on the idea of the whole story is a lie told to rewrite history. The ‘Founders’ were other ponies taken from History. Each was fairly important, important enough for history to remember them, but not for ‘founding a country’ or anything.

Anyway, let’s start at the beginning.

Origins:

Two thousand years ago, there was nothingness. Well, not completely. There was one thing, but he’s not yet important. But the world was cold and dark. Not even the night was as dark as it was, because there was no Night.

The First one, was Azura, an Alicorn of Magic. She came into existence. Just appeared from nothingness. The world was like an empty field. She had her magic. She could light her horn to see, not that there was anything to see. She could fly away, not that there was anywhere to fly.

The second was Mira. Like Azura, she just came into existence. She lit her horn, trying to give more light to the world. But as she did, a river appeared. Mira wasn’t sure how she knew, but she could feel more than one river. She could feel lakes and oceans far away but connected to the river.

The third was Flora. When she lit her horn, a forest sprung up around them. There were trees that bore fruit, and flowers that were just pretty to look at. Flora knew the differences. She also knew that they’d need more light.

Fourth was Sora. When she lit her horn, not only did she add her light magic, but she created a stormcloud. The lightning, while sparing, did give more light. The rain added to the river, and the wind felt beautiful in their manes.

The fifth gave them light. When she lit her horn for the first time, the Sun rose into a blue sky. Their world was full of light and warmth. Yet, after only a few hours she let the Sun go back down. They asked her not to let them go back to the cold darkness, and she did try to keep it up, but it was too hot. Her only explanation was ‘it wants to sleep’.

The sixth was a little different. While the first five were obviously ponies, this one looked just a bit different. Her horn was curved and her wings were translucent instead of feathers. The others waited to see what would happen when she lit her horn.

More creatures appeared. Unicorns, Pegasai, Earth Ponies , Crystal Ponies, and things that weren’t ponies like Dragons and Sirens and Zebras and Griffons and more. Six of each. There were even creatures that weren’t like them, not sapient.

The seventh one was even stranger. Unlike the sixth, he looked nothing like a pony. Well, maybe his face did a bit. Everything else about him looked as if he had taken parts from everyone else. He did not light a horn(though he had two). Still, they felt a change in the world. Maybe because he was the only one not afraid of the cold blackness that consumed the world when the Sun went down.

The Eight was another Alicorn, like the first five. She appeared just as the fifth was setting the sun. She lit her horn, and instead of being consumed by cold blackness, she created the Night.

Time passed. The creatures grew up and built their home. They called the castle Hearthstone.

Azura led a team of a few magically gifted creatures, including a Unicorn named Starswirl. They studied magic, experimented with it. They discovered the existence of the Elements of Harmony, and created gems that would channel the magic. They then began work on a bigger project: the Crystal Heart.

After years of it being only the Created ones, the first creatures were Born. They were the daughters of Starswirl and an Earth Pony named Frosted Cake. They were twins. Clover was first, soon followed by Smart Cookie.

As more children were born, they added more to Hearthstone. They also began to explore more of the world around them. They found more forests, but also fields and mountains. There were also oceans and deserts.

Eventually, as time went on, the Eight found out they were Immortal. As their friends aged around them, the only thing that changed about them was growing taller than most and magical manes for the six Alicorns. They buried their Family in what used to be Hearthstone’s garden.

They handled it differently. Some distanced themselves altogether, others threw themselves into what they had to do. The Mortals around them decided that the Immortals would be the Royalty of the land, as they were not only powerful, but also able to run a land for potentially forever, and would in time have the experience and wisdom to know what to do.

While the Immortals did live in Hearthstone, some had places they liked to visit often. Mira helped Sirens create a city under the ocean, and Sora helped create a city of clouds. In the year 500, Azura completed the Crystal Heart, and made an entire Empire out of crystals to use it to its full potential.

About seven hundred years after the beginning, something happened. Mira fell in love. It was a kind of love where she didn’t want to go on without him. So she didn’t. She gave up her Immortality for him. It was like time being unfrozen. But she was happy. Not only did she have her husband, but her daughter Platinum, a Unicorn and the first Royal Descendant.

Flora did the same soon after. She fell for a chef in the castle, an Earth Pony stallion named Puddinghead. Sora found two Pegasai lovers; a Guard Captain named Hurricane, and his second in command, a mare named Pansy.

The Sixth and Seventh Immortal both isolated themselves from the others, but in different ways. The Sixth left Hearthstone for a group of followers. The Seventh stayed, mostly keeping to himself and even boobytrapping his door should anyone try to get in.

Azura created a place to keep the Elements of Harmony safe, while still sending energy into the world. A crystal tree in the forest near Hearthstone. She designed a locked chest with no keys, putting a message of instructions inside should it be opened. Instructions to use the Elements without the Gems.

The Fall of the Crystal Empire:

Azura, like her ‘sisters’ before her, fell in love. She had a daughter, Lazuli, who took over as Princess of the Crystal Empire. Azura lived long enough to know her grandchildren, passing away after 900 years. It was less than a decade before the Empire disappeared.

That’s the version that was told for years. It’s not until five years after the Empire returns that they learn the full story. Though since this is chronological and stuff, I’ll write it here.

The story begins with three ponies. Obsidian and Emerald, the grandchildren of Azura, and Autumn, daughter of the Guard Captain. Autumn was a Crystal Pony, and Obsidian was a Unicorn, but Emerald was born not just an Alicorn, but a Crystal Alicorn. The three of them were close friends, always together.

They were close to Azura, especially Obsidian who wanted to follow in her hoofsteps in Magic experiments and inventions. When Azura died, her daughter Lazuli took the throne, and chose to have Emerald as her heir.

The trio found this a little strange, as they thought Obsidian would be a better ruler, despite not being an Alicorn. So they decided that when Emerald took the throne, they’d rule together even if she was the true ‘ruler’.

Unfortunately, things happen. Emerald and Autumn fell in love. While two mares being in love was a lot more accepted in Equestria than it is in our world, the ‘concept’ has had its ups and downs. It doesn’t matter if it was ‘up’ or ‘down’ now, as Lazuli was against it. She said that one of the Princess’s duties was to carry on the bloodline through legitimate heirs.

They wouldn’t let Lazuli stop them. The trio decided that they’d either convince Lazuli to make Obsidian the Heir, or find a way to let two mares have their own children. They worked at it. By day, Obsidian would excel at ‘royal duties’, while Emerald would purposely fail them. By night, the trio looked through all manner of magic books, including Azura’s personal collections. Obsidian pulled many all-nighters, since he was the only one of them who could actually understand the magic.

Two years later was their ‘cutoff’.  Once Emerald was formally crowned Heir to the Empire. Sure, they could look for spells even after, but still they grew desperate. Obsidian didn’t sleep at all leading up to Coronation Day. He spent the whole time in Azura’s workshop/personal library, only eating if Emerald had a free moment to bring him something.

He kept it up all the way up to the Coronation ceremony. It was then that he heard a voice whispering in his ear. It told him of ways to be the ruler Lazuli would allow, a way to get what he wanted. It would give him the power to do anything. All he had to do was agree.

In both desperation and sleep-deprived lack of judgment, he agreed. Obsidian blacked out. When he woke up, he was on the balcony. His parents were dead at his hooves. There was a crystal sword in his magic, it’s blade through Emerald’s wing joint. He was awake long enough to tell Emerald to escape.

Emerald ran, despite her wing hanging off her body. She didn’t know what happened to Obsidian, but whatever did that wasn’t him. She took as many Crystal Ponies with her as she could in her escape, barely managing to get out before magic sealed the Empire off. Unfortunately, Autumn was still inside.

They made it to Hearthstone, telling the Immortals of what happened. They left for the Empire, but came back with the news that the Empire itself had disappeared. Emerald didn’t know how she knew, but she was sure she’d never see her brother or her fiancé ever again. She never told anyone what happened to Obsidian.

Discord’s Reign:

Some do not handle Immortality well. The Seventh Immortal isolated himself more and more over the centuries. After Azura’s death, he only left his room to eat every few days. He didn’t even come out to help his ‘sisters’ fight for the Empire. He refused to sleep. The dreams of ponies long past were too painful, and the Dreamwalker herself would try to get through to him.

There was one who still managed to talk to him, though he didn’t realize it was an actual voice and not him talking to himself. The voice suggested things. Suggested giving up, faking the smile and laughter. Why not go all out? After all, Life and Death mean nothing in a world of Chaos.

Truly, what does one expect of the mental breakdown of a powerful, Immortal being whose magic always goes for the most Chaotic option?

Nightmare Moon:

There were only two Immortals left in Hearthstone. Four had died, one had disappeared, and one was turned to stone. The youngest Immortal was following close behind her ‘brother’.  Sure, she handled Immortality better, but there are other things to cause a breakdown.

A lack of respect. Her sister was ‘older’, so she must be ‘better’, even if their difference is less than a year. They began to fear her. They did not realize that when she entered their nightmares she was trying to help. They thought she made them. No one cared for the beauty of the Night.

Maybe that was the fault of the beginning. After all, everyone used to love the Night. It was the final freedom from the Nothingness. Yet only one who remembered the Nothingness was still fully with her.

That was a problem too. The Sun got all the glory, was loved by all. But most importantly, she ignored the Moon’s jealousy. She noticed, stars did she notice, but she didn’t think it would turn worse. She thought a few encouraging words of ‘you can come to me if you want to’ would be enough until she did.

Someone else closed the gap. Told the Moon things that were not completely lies. They loved the Sun more, and does the Sun not love the attention? Has she truly been by your side?

In the end, the Moon followed Chaos into madness. Hers was more literal, transforming into a Nightmare.

The next Thousand Years:

The Sun was alone. The additions to the castle in the last thousand years made it seem almost like a different place, even though the original castle still stood at its center. Still, that place held too many memories.

The forest around Hearthstone was becoming wild with magic. Then again, what did she expect? It was the literal beginning of the world, and the place where four Immortals were buried, residual magic infusing into the ground and making the forest stop listening to anyone.

So she left. She brought the more recent things with her, but she didn’t dare to move anything from the original Hearthstone. The only thing that ‘belonged there’ was her ‘brother’, still trapped in stone.

The forest had once been named after the castle, ‘Hearthstone’. Yet she felt it deserved its own name. It felt right. She called it ‘Everfree’, maybe as a wish for her ‘brother’ and ‘sister’, trapped because she could not help them.

And then she waited. It was all she could do. She waited a thousand years for a group of ponies to do what she couldn’t. To give her Family back.

Other notes:

Six Alicorns=Six Elements:

Azura-Magic

Celestia-Generosity

Luna-Laughter

Sora-Honesty

Mira-Loyalty

Flora-Kindness

Types of Alicorns:

Created- Alicorns that popped into existence. Essentially Magic given a solid form. Immortal unless 1. They give up their Immortality or 2. They are killed. Extremely difficult to kill.

Born- Ponies born an Alicorn. Must be a descendant of one of the Immortals. Might live longer than normal, but double a Mortal is the record longest. Despite their lineage, they won’t necessarily be magically powerful. (Side note of Alicorn Genetics: If you have a Created Alicorn Ancestor, you have the Alicorn Gene. It’s not really a ‘dominant’ trait, as the Gene does what it wants. It’s always passed down to the offspring, but there’s a 50/50 chance of it activating. If it does, then they’re an Alicorn. If it doesn’t, they’re whatever gene the other parent gave)

Crafted Alicorn: Ponies that were born something else and ‘ascend’ to an Alicorn. Usually magically powerful, as ‘ascension’ gives them more magic(in Magic Level Measurement, it gives a full level of Magic). Despite now being an Alicorn, their DNA does not register as ‘Alicorn’. They do not have the Alicorn Gene, and their offspring cannot be Alicorns.

Lineage: Because the other Royals are descenadnts of the Immortals

Cadence- Descended from Azura. Rightful Heir to the throne of the Crystal Empire(assuming Emerald’s Coronation happened before Lazuli died)

Blueblood- Descended from Flora. 

#mlp headcanon #History #Origins

[nct-dork]

Attacked Prince!Haechan AU

“hEllo heLLO may I request for a prince!donghyuck au?? HAHAHA” -@donghyuckstudies

I am so sorry it took so long but it’s finally done

Warnings: Death of Villains, Blood, Violence

Member: Donghyuck/Haechan

Type: Angst/Fluff

Plot: Your a princess with a fighting side, so when your at a party in Donghyuck’s castle and are under attack Donghyuck is very impressed with your ability to defend yourself.

Donghyuck was a unique prince. Who are we kidding he was a savage, roasting kid who would sass any gold seeking princess within a hundred mile radius. He couldn't stand the princesses that would bat their eyelashes at him and compliment him for the sole purpose that he would become king someday. To make matters worse his parents keep setting up 'events' for princes to meet lovely princesses and fall madly in love, uggghhh. When events like this came around he just hang around with his crew at the corner of the room eating food and roasting each other and try to make his way through the waves of flirty princesses.

The best escape from this life was knight training, where him and the other 16 princes from nearby kingdoms trained with the best knights, to develop their skills in sword fighting, archery, knife combat and strategy. Each prince had different talents for example Kun, Jeno and Jaemin were all archers whilst Taeyong, Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark, Jisung, Yuta and Haechan himself were all particularly skilled in sword fighting.

At the big princess meeting events the kings and queens hosted the boys would sit around and talk about all the best strategies and who was best at what. Sometimes they would sneak out and just chill around the palace or practice their skills in the nighttime darkness.

He was excited to be a fair ruler of his kingdom and knew about all the responsibilities that the title of king would come with but he knew by the time he step up to the thrown he would be ready. The only part he was uninterested in was, of course finding himself a suitable wife.

You were probably the worst princess in the history of all the kingdoms. Instead of learning etiquette and the proper way of being royalty, you thought it would be better to learn how to defend your kingdom and people. Which maybe wasn't the best choice considering every prince took you as a joke, because 'haha girls can't fight, they're too weak' the amount of times you had heard that was enough to drive anyone insane but you were strong and knew you could beat any of those losers in a fight.

You had been invited to an 'event' to mingle with all the other royals which probably meant princes hitting on you left, right and centre but oh well you are well used to that by now.

The event was very classy and mature, it was set up in a huge ballroom with chandeliers scattered along the ceiling, a polished marble floor to slow dance on and pillars at each side of the massive space. The king and queen of this kingdom had arranged for all the royals to spend time at the event which was to end at midnight and then spend the night in the castle to be sent home to their own kingdoms the next morning. The thought of spending the entire night here was exhausting especially with the hundreds of stuck up princesses and big ego princes dotting around the ballroom.

After looking around at the bedazzled ballgowns the other girls were wearing you realised what you had on wasn't nearly as decorated, it was just a simple red dress with your hair up in a ponytail. No one would be able to tell but under your dress you wore black leather boots, the very same ones you use for fighting, even if you had to act like a pampered princess doesn't mean you had to dress like it completely.

You walked straight to the food table, ignoring every offer from smirking princes to dance with you, all you wanted was free food. The food table was decked out with huge pieces of meat, dessert delicately piped with cream and decorated with all sorts of fruits and a huge selection of juices because the king and queen were smart enough not to give alcohol to teenagers even if they were royal. From the looks of it no one has even touched the food, to busy flirting with each other probably. You grabbed a plate and started piling on the best of the best; roast chicken, beef, chips.

As you were on your second plate of food when trumpets sounded signalling that the king and queen were entering the hall with their son. As the three walked through the ballroom the crowd of teenagers split making a path then bowing and curtsying showing respect and thanks to their hosts. The introductions were short they introduced themselves and their son Donghyuck, then there was a 'thanks for coming enjoy the food, have a good time talking to your possible future wife or husband' and with that the king and queen left leaving their son behind.

He was cute you had to admit but so were half the boys here, which is why it's important to remember personality over looks. For all you knew this guy could be a jerk just like the others. He jumped off the stage and made his way through the crowd of princesses trying to seduce him into dancing towards the back corner where there was a group of equally cute boys laughed and joked.

After that the night dragged on. You hung around with a group of princesses and princes who had been deemed 'unattractive' by the rest of the 'cool kid' royals. They were friendly enough and soon they became the highlight of your evening, which had quickly been spoiled by a prince who had spotted your pretty face in between all the 'unattractive' royals, he had flirted with you every chance he had. By the end of the evening the same guy had convinced himself you had fallen madly in love with him. He would send winks at you every chance he got and at one point managed to drag you to the dance floor were he spun you around and made you bump into... Prince Donghyuck son of the king and queens themselves. You apologised and bowed with your face as red as a rose, he giggle at you and told you it was fine and to forget about it. Then he turned and walked towards his groups of friends in the back corner of the room again trying to make his way through the waves of flirty princesses. He looked back at you but swung his head round when he made eye contact, he might of blushed but you thought it was a trick of the light. You were left being judged in the middle of the floor, being embarrassed while the prince kept trying to get you to dance with him.

After what was one of the worst parties of your life it finally ended. Guards showed each of the royals to their designated rooms, whilst walking through the castle it dawned upon you just how massive in size this castle was. In the time it took you to reach your room you had past corridors full of rooms and you imagined that the floor below you would be full of kitchens, servants rooms and more things like that.

The room you were staying in was simple but beautiful for a guest room. There was a four-poster bed, a screen to dress behind and rich red bed sheets with gold and white stitching. there was also some furniture dotted around like a small coach and a table. Just a few seconds after you arrived a small maid about 15 came through the door, she was small but cute with pink lips and cute little dimpled cheeks but she looked really mad like she could rip someone. Her eyes were also slightly watery like she was holding back tears.

"Hello, Princess Y/N" she let out along sign then calmed down "I'm going to be your maid for your stay here, anything you need I will provide" she gave a forced smile then bowed.

You gave her a confused look then softened your expression "Are you okay? You seem... angry" you questioned walking over to stand in front of her looking down at her small figure.

"It's just... Boys!" she let out a frustrated sigh, running her hands through her hair. You were about to ask if she wanted to talk about it but were interrupted by a knock on the door. She motioned towards the door giving you a look asking if she should answer it, but before you could agree the door was swung open and the one person you had wanted to get away from tonight swaggered in with a rose in his hand.

"Y/N, you and me tomorrow morning, breakfast together and after you can watch me at knight training, I'll show you how manly I am" he winked then chucked the rose at you, walked towards the door yelling a "don't be late" as he slammed the door behind you.

You looked at your maid "Boys!" copying what she did before. She started to giggle showing a cute little eye smile. She was such a sweet girl, you both talked for awhile then she helped you get ready for bed.

The king and queen had left out a beautiful white silk night gown it had lacing decorating the bottom sitting on your dresser and a few things like a hairbrush and a jewellery box, which you filled with your earrings and crown before getting changed and jumping into bed with the help of your little maid friend.

The bed was softer than you thought it would be but that might just have been you thinking that because of the days tiring events. You were kept awake by the memory of you bumping into Prince Donghyuck, you had felt so stupid with everyone staring at you but the prince hadn't seemed to mind. The heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of how embarrassing the situation had been for you, that stupid ass prince sure didn't help with his constant flirting. You fell asleep to the comforting idea that the next day you would travel back to your own kingdom and leave this nightmare of a kingdom behind you.

BANG!CRASH!SMASH! You woke up from the dream you were having by the castle shaking. You threw the covers off and scrambled over to the window to see what was happening.  You gasped at the sight of the castle defensive wall having a large part of it missing and fires dotted around the main courtyard. You saw what looked like barbarians climbing through the hole in the wall trying to get into the castle. You scrambled away from the window to find your boots. You found them next to the door and jogged to get them but were knocked for balance and tripped due to another shake rippling through the castle. You looked at your hands which were scraped and bloodied, nothing you couldn't handle. You got up once more and retrieved your boots lacing them up and stepping out into the corridor on the other side of your bedroom.

Your maid came sprinting round the corner along with a bunch of other maids, she looked like the youngest and smallest but she managed to keep up with the older girls, even if she did seem to be tiring faster than them. The other maids went into rooms along the corridor which you assumed housed more princesses. She skidded to a halt, just in front of you puffing and panting to get some air in her lungs before delivering the news.

"Your highness the castle is under attack" she sucked in another breathe before continuing "the princes will be assigned a princess each to protect and get safely out the castle, we have all to stay in our rooms until the prince's collect us" she finished with a frustrated sign escaping her lips. Her cheeks going a beautiful rose color from the running.

You debated whether or not to stay in your room and wait for yourself to be rescued or if you should put your years of training to good use. You definitely knew which one you preferred, fighting like you always thought you could was appealing and the triumphs of proving yourself to the people that thought this princess couldn't fight were looking brilliant, but you weren't cocky you knew you might run into a large group of barbarians that would be the end of you.

You didn't have much more time to ponder your opinions. A group of 5 barbarians clad in furs with axes and deadly hammers raised above their heads came running round the corner. They had spotted you and your maid, meaning you couldn't barricade and hide, your lonely option was to run as fast as you could and pray you could figure something out before they got to you.

That exactly what you did. You grabbed your maids hand and dragged her with you as you sprinted in your boots and night gown in the opposite direction as the dangerous men. You ran adrenaline fuelling your every move as you rounded corner after corner past decorative suits of armour trying to shake the men off, with no succession. Three of the men, however, seemed to lose interest in you and your maid leaving only two, a number you could handle. The next suit of armour you past you grabbed the sword and unsheathed it in one swift motion coming to a halt and turning to face your two challengers, you heard your maid gasp in shock but she didn't abandon you. Instead, to your complete shock, she jogged to a matching suit of armour and pulled out a sword identical to yourself jogging back to you clutching the sword which was obviously too heavy for her.

The two men stopped running and started laughing showing yellow, rotted teeth and purple gums "haha, look at the cute princess and her little maid". The other man stopped his laughing as well "are you two going to fight us? You can't be serious! We'll crush those pretty little necks of yours"

Your maid let out a small whimper. You smiled pleasantly at the two villains in front of you and acted before either could react. You swung the sword around catching one in the leg and making a big enough gash to leave him to bleed on the floor and kept the sword path going forwards and up to catch the other man in his jaw doing more damage than he had been prepared for. The man with the leg injury let out cries of pain and groans that echoed along the corridors and halls, alerting more barbarians to your presence.

The swords handle was rubbing at your already bloodied hands, from when you fell trying to get your boots, making them sting with pain. The blood from the two men had found its mark on your silk night gown stain splatters of blood over the bottom half of it. You turned to your maid and gesture for her to keep running. She dropped the sword that was obviously weighting her down and ran with you further into the castle.

Neither of you knew particularly what you should do. Once you reached a quieter part of the castle you both stopped to breathe you still clutching the sword. "Where is the nearest way out that would get us to safety?" You hopefully asked your maid hoping she knew the castle well enough to provide a decent answer. Her eyes which had been on the floor looked up to meet her yours, in her eyes you could see many different emotions like fear but behind that seemed to be something stronger. You weren't sure but it looked like anger. She opened her month to speak but was cut off by a door beside you both opened.

You didn't need long to react, both hands gripping the sword handle you spun round and laid the point of the sword on the intruders neck. "Feisty, I like that!" You were making eye contact with the jerk of a prince that had flirted with you the entire night, as if your night couldn't have gotten any worse. You begrudgingly dropped your sword, he moved aside to let the other people through the door. More princes entered the room with swords, daggers or bows they were mostly about your age and two slightly younger and one about a year older. Then Prince Donghyuck entered he looked at you and his eyes widened and his cheeks turned red. You got super confused you thought he was looking at your clothes, the blood had started to dry which probably made you look insane. The other princes kept giggling which only confused you more.

Your maid looked panicked and awkward looking around the room you notice another boy looking just as awkward as she did. You remembered Bach to the 'Boys!' incident, was this prince the guy who had made her so angry before.

That thought was pushed out of your mind by a banging coming from a door up ahead. You all froze for a few seconds before you and your maid were being pushed behind the wall of eight princes, each pulling out their weapons to defend you both. You should have felt touched by their gesture but instead you wanted to defend yourself and not be rescued like the cliché princess.

The doors burst open, making everyone jump out of fright. A group of what looked like a dozen barbarians came through the doors holding horrific weapons which could definitely do some brutal damage. Two of boys, Jeno and Jaemin, put an arrow in their bows and as if in-sync loosed them sending the arrow forward and hitting two men. The oldest, the youngest and Donghyuck ran forward hitting two more men with their swords. The remaining two turned around to you both and start to get you out of that area of the castle. You thought it would be best to stay out of the danger, but that opinion was thrown out the window when you saw Donghyuck being overpowered by not one, not two but three barbarians. They were swinging axes and clubs ferociously at him. You shoved your way past the two princes trying to help you and went at a run with your sword raised in to the fight. You ran past Jeno and Jaemin, one of which tried to grab you to stop you from fighting, but you ducked under their arms continuing on your war path. One of the barbarians saw you and swung a particularly nasty looking axe in your direction. The weight of the axe, however, slowed his speed giving you the opportunity to smack the hilt of your sword into his head. He fell back limply onto the cold stone floor. You took a look at the situation in front of you and acted taking a number of steps forward and plunging your sword through one of the barbarian's attacking Donghyuck rib cage, sending a stream of red down onto the floor along with a corpse.

The dozen barbarians had been reduced to three and the commotion you had caused turned all attention to you. You took the surprise to your advantage and turned your sword at angle and swinging it up and slicing a fatal gash along a barbarians chest. The eldest, Mark, took out his remaining man with a hit to the skull. An arrow shot past you ending the last mans life.

Donghyuck stepped towards you so he was only half a foot away "That was amazing, I've never seen anyone but Taeyong fight like that" he brushed a hair from your face and ran his thumb across your cheek. He started to lean in but the moment was ruined by your flirty prince coming from his hiding space, after doing nothing to help, and swing an arm around your shoulders. He smirked "lucky you had me to protect you, baby doll" he winked and you had to fight yourself from rolling your eyes.

"We should probably head to the thrown room, it's the most secure place in the castle" Donghyuck spat before taking your hand and pulling you out of Mr Flirts arm and dragging you over the pile of bodies to the door they had entered from. Your heart started to flutter in your chest and your cheeks growing a pink glow to them. You heard some of the others snicker behind you. Turned and gave your maid a panicked look silently asking her what to do, in response she walked past the two princes sharing a shy stare with one of them before jogging up to your side. She did a quick walk to keep up with the speed Donghyuck was pulling you along at.

You reached the thrown room without any hassle from the enemy forces. It was completely empty but looked untouched by the barbarians. You looked down at your hand which was still firmly held in Donghyuck's he didn't appear to have any intention of letting go anytime soon. Your annoying prince seemed to have got the message from the killer death stares Donghyuck was sending him.

"We should wait here a bit until it's safer to go out" he said before pulling you further into the room while doing so also bring you close to his side. Here you had a perfect look at his side profile from the moon light bounced off he magnificent features to the shape of his lips he was stunning. He saw you out of the corner of his eye staring at him, his cheeks flushed to match your own cheeks.

He let go of your hand and went over to the empty fire place to light it and get some heat in the large room. Your maid took his place, standing at your side "your cheeks have gone red" she stated fighting back giggle from escaping her lips. "Oh, shut it you" you said jokingly giving her a gentle nudge forward.

You all sat in the room for a few hours with no unwanted visitors bursting in, but the atmosphere was tense. Your maid for one kept throwing glances at the mystery prince her age. The situation between the two of them frustrated you because every time she stopped looking at him he would look at her, meaning they were missing the longing gazes they were sending at each other by seconds.

You all waited a bit longer then a royal guard came in and delivered the news that they had succeed in their battle and the castle had once again been reclaimed. Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

You looked down at yourself still covered in blood which had long since dried, you looked a mess. Your maid and you left heading back to your room to get a new night gown. You changed and got your  hands bandaged up then your maid left. A few minutes later a knock sounded on the door. You got up from the coach you were sitting on and open the door to reveal Donghyuck. His eyes widened at seeing you with your hair nicely brushed, your skin cleaned of all the blood you had gotten on yourself and a beautiful white night dress, to him you looked like a goddess.

"I-I umm... I mean would you like to... accompany me to... knight training and show me how you fight?" He asked scratching the nape of his neck out of nervousness. "Uh, sure I guys if that's what you want" you replied almost just as awkward as he had been. There was a silence before until he said"God, your beautiful" sighing summoning a lot more courage than he had before. You blushed and looked at the ground. He hooked his fingers under you chin bring your face up to look into his eyes. His eyes then darted down to your lips and then back up to your eyes, you subconsciously did the same. The as if you both knew your lips were placed against each other's. It wasn't that long but it was sweet and you wouldn't have it any other way. "It's a date then" he said waggling his eyebrows at you playfully. "I never said that" you smirked at him. "Of course it is my dear Y/N, why wouldn't you want this" he winked at you. You pulled him down again by his shirt capturing his lips and breaking away before muttering "it's a date" barely loud enough for him to hear you, before you closed the door, leaving him in the corridor grinning from ear to ear. He probably gave him self a high-five as well because he's Donghyuck.

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