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dreaminpetals · 3 years

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I love how you write Andrew, could I have a little mermaid au where his s/o is a mermaid and it follows the events of the disney movie?? Or it can be a normal mermaid fic if you're not familiar with it, no pressure. Keep up the great work <3

🌊 the little mermaid // andrew kreiss

you had always been fascinated with human culture, particularly the people that lived above your aquatic kingdom. the castle you lived in was located directly under what your friend bonbon called a railway. everyday a train would zoom past, full of humans with different lives and destinations. you longed to grow legs and ride a train yourself. alas, you were stuck under the sea with seahorse drawn carriages as your main mode of transportation.

bonbon had been teaching you about conductors, the brave humans who controlled the trains, before you realized you were almost late to see your favourite train fly by. it was going to arrive any minute now and you needed to see it.

unfortunately, when you swam as fast as your little tail could take you to the railway, embers and rubble were scattered throughout the terrain as far as the eye could see. the train had... crashed?

your first instinct was to search for survivors of the wreckage. after digging through heaps of metal and ash, you found a man struggling to stay afloat. "i've got you!" you yelped, battling the debris with your tail and bringing him to the surface to rest atop a loose seat from the train.

when you got a good look at the human you saved, it was as if cupid struck you with one of his arrows. he was a man with skin so pale it was almost grey, and beautiful white hair despite looking so young. it was unlike anything you've ever seen before, did all humans look like this? his eyes fluttered open and met yours. they were a coral hue and absolutely breathtaking. looking up, you recognized his hat from the stories bonbon rehearsed to you... he was the train conductor! oh, you were so glad that he was safe.

merfolk were meant to be kept a secret from the humans lest they be hunted for their scales, so once a spotlight flashed over the man you returned home, giggling all the way back. you got to touch a human and it was a handsome one too! you couldn't wait to tell your sisters about it.

arriving at the castle, you were instantly greeted by two of your sisters, emily and vera. they both wondered why you were covered in soot.

oh yeah.

you were a bit dirty from rescuing that train conductor.

they washed you up with some soap while you gushed to them about the boy you saw, but none of them were very impressed with your actions.

"humans are the reason we lost our father, he was killed by pirates, do you not remember?" vera scolded you as she massaged soap into your scalp, "there are plenty of mermen for you to choose from so please, please stay away from the surface. i don't want to lose a sister," if she wanted to nail guilt into your head then it certainly worked, you felt awful. was saving him really that heinous of a crime? you couldn't simply ignore someone if they were about to die, human or not.

emily scrubbed at your tail and tut-tutted you, "humans are dangerous creatures and only wish to hunt us down, i'd advise seeking mental help if you find yourself attached to one... please y/n, we only want the best for you."

halfway through her speech you suddenly became dizzy. you heard the sound of a young girl cackling in your ear, and you swore you saw a flash of purple swimming away, right outside your window...

the sea witch, yidhra, let out a boisterous laugh when she learned of your current situation. a mermaid has fallen in love with a human? oh, this was too good!

yidhra specialized in making deals with unsuspecting merfolk, she collected their souls like an oyster would collect pearls. young lovestruck girls were the most vulnerable of targets, she could see herself winning big off of you. the daughter of miss nightingale, ruler of the seas? you being a princess in love meant you could hand over the key to the kingdom if you could spend just a day with your beloved. dangerous schemes swam through her head, this was going to be the deal of a lifetime.

meanwhile, above the surface, the train conductor who nearly tasted death was going nuts thinking about you. hushed whispers of townsfolk taught him that mermaids were ravenous creatures who only sought to lure sailors from their ships to consume their souls, but a mermaid had saved him. nobody believed andrew; they insisted he had been pulled from the wreckage by one of his crewmates and merely hallucinated a mermaid. a mermaid would never save him, they would only drag him down further.

their words ate away at andrew. were mermaids as misunderstood as he was? his entire life, andrew had been cast away as a monster. rumours circled around that his lack of pigment was caused by sucking out the souls of his train passengers for nutrients. the mystery girl he saw wouldn't leave his mind, every waking moment he heard her voice, a melodic chirp that promised to save him... if only he recorded her appearance, he couldn't remember what she looked like if he did try to find her. only her voice. he longed to meet her. he longed to repay her, nobody deserves to endanger themselves to save andrew kreiss of all people.

when you stirred, all of your sisters were gathered around your clamshell bed. frantic whispers filled the room as you sat up and placed a heat compress on your head. it felt like someone hexed you.

"she has a slight fever, but i trust that y/n will make a full recovery with some rest," emily explained to tracy, your youngest sister who was beside herself with worry. "she likely went into shock from seeing a human up close. fret not, demi is preparing some medicine as we speak."

soon enough, their voices fizzled out and were replaced by a ghoulish group of whispers in your ear. it sounded like several children and an old woman speaking all at once. "come to yidhra's domain, sweet princess. you will meet your human love if you follow my instructions." your human love? your ears perked up the moment you heard her mention the train conductor you had fallen for. suddenly gaining a burst of energy, you told your sisters you were going to take a breather in the castle garden and swam off. they were left dumbfounded.

before you raced to yidhra's domain, you told your feathered friend bonbon what you were up to, just in case something happened. you had no idea how much this would pay off later on.

yidhra's domain intimidated you the moment it came into view. it was a serpent shaped cave made of bones surrounded by gardens of disembodied, broken souls. they moaned and weeped as you swam past them. miss nightingale warned you about yidhra, insisting that you never make a deal with the sea witch. however... she wanted to reunite you with the train conductor, she wanted to help you! none of your sisters understood how you felt, but yidhra did.

"is yidhra here?" you called out to an empty room lined with bookshelves and potions, a cauldron brewing in the centre. then, a pale blue woman with a serpent's tail emerged from the dark.

"sweet princess, have you come to make a deal with me?" she purred, tilting your chin up with a bony finger. you nodded. "you'd go against mommy's wishes for a human boy?" this time her tone was more condescending, but you nodded anyways.

"he's a train conductor, a brave man... oh yidhra, he's perfect, you'd know if you met him!"

yidhra snickered, slithering back to her bookshelves and carefully removing a contract with a floating pen. "what if i told you that you could see him again, dearie?" she used magic to teleport the contract into your hands, along with the pen. "if you sign this contract, you will become a human for three days. if the boy gives you true love's kiss by sunset of the third day, you'll stay as a human forever and fall in love, yadda yadda,"

you nodded, it sounded like a perfect deal. who knew yidhra could be so generous?

she gave a deafening clap of her hands. "hush. i'm not done." then a devilish grin corrupted her features, "if he doesn't kiss you, then you can kiss you and your kingdom goodbye. i will replace miss nightingale as ruler of the seas and you'll be the prettiest soul in my patch. deal?"

silence enveloped both of you as you thought this through. three days was plenty of time, all you had to do was kiss. he was your true love, your soulmate, it was a naive thought but you had never felt so much for another person before.

"silly me, i forgot to mention," yidhra stifled a cackle, "you won't have a voice, sweetie. you'll be a mute. will this conductor still fall for you when you can't chit chat with him?"

damn her, of course there had to be a catch.

you gave a shaky nod, mumbling that it was a deal. the laugh she let out was unlike anything you've ever heard, what was so funny? she couldn't stop howling as she dropped various potions into her cauldron, steam and green flames overriding your senses. "sing! sing for me, you foolish girl!"

singing a lullaby you grew up with, you signed the contract and felt your voice fade away along with your consciousness.

when you rose, you were on the shores of a freezing cold sea, the conductor staring down at you in disbelief. thank god for the seaweed covering your shivering form.

andrew blinked at you, visibly concerned. "i ah... i... i noticed you," he reached out a trembling hand which you gladly took to hoist yourself up. your feet buckled under you. wait. feet? looking down you noticed that you were a human, you had legs and feet! you could hardly contain your excitement, yidhra was helping you! your attention shifted back to the man in front of you, pulling you close to his chest so you wouldn't fall. "you washed up on the... shore. are you okay?" he was fumbling over his words and seemed so uncomfortable around you, like he wasn't used to the skin to skin contact.

you tried to answer but your words were caught in your throat. she wasn't messing around when she took your voice, you couldn't produce any type of sound whatsoever.

"ah, you're... you're scared of me, aren't you?" andrew tried to hide the hurt in his voice, "so scared you can't walk or talk. well, run off to your family now. go tell them you saw andrew the train conductor, that he tried to eat you... i know you're thinking it," andrew. your love's name was andrew!

he tried to drop you and turn on his heel to leave, but the moment you hit the grass he had to turn back around to check if you were alright again. he couldn't leave you.

you pointed to your throat as you stood up, knees wobbly. you made an 'x' shape with your arms and shook your head. andrew had an unreadable expression, but slowly began to nod in understanding. "oh, you can't speak? i'm... sorry for assuming, the people around here are... they're... not the kindest. they're wolves."

his eyes flicked to your body and saw the seaweed barely clinging to you. did you fall overboard or something? he wanted to respect your privacy so he stared at the water beside you as he set his coat over your shoulders, still averting his gaze. it was cozy and smelled like mint. the fur lining on the inside warmed you right up. "you would have froze in that. i'm not sure where you're... from, but... ah, just follow me," you gave him a grin and he walked you back to his home which wasn't far. it was right beside the grand railway you loved observing. it felt like a dream to visit it while andrew had his arms around you, even if he didn't know who you were.

he saw your jaw drop at the sight of the railway and the parked train. "that's my family's train, folks here aren't too... nice to me, but... they appreciate all our hard work," from what you could gather, he seemed to be an outcast. you related to that.

once you arrived at his house, he dashed upstairs to what you presumed to be his mother's room, because he returned with a stunning, sequinned dress. it was the same colour as your mermaid's tail!

after you were dried off and dressed, he sat down at the dinner table with you. for dinner you two ate some beef stew, one of his favourites. it was so amusing to him how you tried to brush your hair with a fork before the meal. he wanted to make small talk with you, but what would we say? it wasn't just the fact you were mute, but he's never eaten dinner with anyone other than his mother before. she passed years ago and he was left to fend for himself in their shared house, he's been entirely alone since you turned up. what could he say..?

"may i guess your name, miss?" andrew asked after swallowing some carrots, his voice as shaky as usual.

you gave him a playful thumbs up.

"great... hm, you strike me as a galatea."

thumbs down.

"violetta, then?"

thumbs down.

"ahh, okay... strike three, you remind me of a y/n."

thumbs up, and a bright smile on your face!

"n-no way, y/n? well, y/n... i'm sure you don't want to live with a monster for the rest of your days, so... i'll contact rescue... you'll be home by tomorrow morning,"

that made you flinch. tomorrow morning? you had to kiss him within three days! you vigorously shook your head and he tried to decipher what you meant.

"do you have a home? memory loss?"

you shook your head to both.

"ah, so you... saw your home get destroyed when you washed up. i'm sorry y/n." he stirred his beverage to break the silence, but the look he gave you was nothing short of heartbroken. how would you ever tell him you were a mermaid? "a similar thing happened yesterday... a train i was on crashed, and... a uh, mermaid saved me. nobody believes me though, but i felt her tail, heard her voice..."

his words made you freeze.

"you're the only person i can say this to, but... i think i love her."

you fainted.

after tucking you into his mother's bed, andrew headed outside for some fresh air. the salty smell of the sea would always help steel his nerves. running his calloused fingers through his hair, he reflected on the chaotic past two days he was being dragged through.

a mute girl who lived on a ship crashed and landed right in front of his home. he could barely handle the pressure of caring for you. you were adorable, charming, and the kindest person he had met, but he wanted to find the mermaid who saved him. he wasn't sure if what he felt for you was love or not, all he could think about was the mysterious mermaid.

then, as if fate hadn't been unpredictable enough, he heard her voice coming from a few feet away. an ethereal woman emerged from the sea, silky black hair matching her pitch black dress. she looked so mysterious, but her voice was all too familiar to andrew.

"oh, my sweet conductor, i became human out of love for you... please, let us marry as soon as possible!" the woman spoke in that relaxing, life saving voice. he could listen to it all day. he didn't know that she was hijacking his mind with a powerful love spell, he would become infatuated with more than her voice very soon.

"m-my name is andrew kreiss, miss... miss...?"

"tomie yidhra. but oh, how i yearn to be tomie kreiss! i don't view you as a monster in the slightest, i only wish to nurture you and love you for the rest of my days... you're the strongest and bravest man i know, please marry me! marry me andrew!"

how could he say no to those words, dripping out of the air like honey? no, really. he couldn't say no.

"i would love to."

"the day after tomorrow, at sunset... let us be wed, andrew."

the next day, you woke up to the sight of andrew looming over you again. you saw him give a silent fist bump when you sat up, he must have been ill with worry all night.

"oh! you're awake, that's good, miss. miss y/n, i have something unbelievable to tell you..."

you tilted your head to a curious angle, silently urging for him to continue.

"do you recall my story of a mermaid who saved me? she grew legs last night and visited me... tomie yidhra, we'll be marrying tomorrow... i would ah, love for you to come,"

you tried to scream but it was silent.

that bitch.

that wicked, evil bitch.

she took advantage of the fact andrew only recognized your voice and impersonated you. you needed to give him true love's kiss before their wedding. he was planning to marry yidhra. yidhra would kill him!

fueled by the fear of losing him, you bravely draped your arms around andrew's neck and gave him the deepest, most desperate kiss you could possibly give. he immediately pried his lips off yours and rubbed the back of his neck in humiliation.

"y-y/n! you're... you're great and all, but... i love tomie. please don't be hurt..." it was so strange and tragic, every time he spoke yidhra's human name it looked like he was under some kind of hypnosis, he wasn't his usual self. why would closed off andrew suddenly decide to marry her? tears brimmed at your eyes thinking of how foolish you were. "i have to leave now. work. i hope i didn't... ruin anything." he hurried out the door, giving you one last sad look before leaving you alone.

silent wails and shrieks of agony were caught in your throat, glass burrowing itself inside every inch of your body. your sisters were right. bonbon was right. miss nightingale was right. you should have left andrew alone, he wouldn't be tricked into marrying a sea witch this way. you ran outside, back to the shore you washed up on, and tried to swim back home, in case it gave you a tail. it didn't. you were still a human. you wanted nothing more than to reach yidhra's domain and strangle her yourself.

as you writhed in despair, bonbon flew overheard and recognized you. he saw the wedding boat being prepared and assumed your dreams were coming true, was andrew already engaged? he hoped not, and headed to the wedding boat to investigate.

there, he saw a woman with raven hair taking her makeup off and preparing for bed. except her reflection... her reflection showed the wicked sea witch, yidhra. then, in your voice, bonbon heard her shout for room service. this woman andrew was marrying... it was that vile witch, disguised as the woman who selflessly saved his life.

he flung some of his fecal matter through the window out of spite, and yidhra shrieked in your voice. yup, there was no doubting it, he has to interfere.

the next day, wedding bells rang and all you wanted was to drop dead. none of the guests even liked andrew and of course nobody knew who yidhra was, they were only attending his wedding out of curiosity. they were curious what ill woman would marry a demon.

you dabbed away the tears with your handkerchief and noticed that andrew was looking anywhere but you as he hooked arms with the bride. they were giving their vows, seconds away from kissing, until a starfish shot out of the water and hit yidhra square in the face.

then a dolphin flopped on deck.

then several octopi stuck to the crowd.

just what was going on here?

you began to recognize some of the creatures that made their way on the ship, and if you weren't mistaken, you could hear bonbon's voice in the distance... he was shouting 'attack'?

finally, you saw your sisters emerge from the sea.

"don't marry tomie, andrew! she's a witch! y/n was the mermaid who turned into a hu-"

before martha could finish, you felt a dull pain in your legs. oh no. casting a horrified glance to the horizon, the sun was setting.

"stupid girl!" yidhra transformed back into her serpent form, and spoke in her usual vile voice. "you may have found me out, but you didn't get your true love's kiss! andrew chose ME!" she gave her usual boisterous laugh, and with a stomp of her tail, the ship flipped overboard.

"andrew!" you called out, searching for him once again. your voice was back, you couldn't believe it. he was floating on a seat, just like when you saved him for the first time. "andrew, it's me, i'm sorry... i was so stupid," a gloved hand wiped the tears from your eyes, and he gave a content smile when he heard your voice. it fit you much better than that raggedy witch.

"it's okay, y/n... so, it was you all along...?" he gave a sad laugh when you nodded. you leaned in to kiss him and he gladly reciprocated, he was actually leaning into the kiss this time and it felt magical. the moment was quickly killed when you saw yidhra holding miss nightingale, ripping off her mask and placing it on her own face. this was terrible news. that mask helped her maintain balance between all the creatures of the sea, it was her main source of strength and wisdom. if it fell into the wrong hands, the results would be catastrophic.

and it just did.

yidhra grew ten times her usual size and towered above everyone scrambling for land. storms brewed in the sky and the aura of the evening changed, everyone was in grave danger.

"idiot girl, handing off her kingdom for a boy... why don't you kiss one last time before you sleep with the fishes!" yidhra bellowed and you couldn't take it anymore. you scooped up andrew and swam to a docked sailboat with a large wooden spike at the front. andrew wasn't a violent person in the slightest, but he was the only one who could kill yidhra right now and save the sea.

he began steering, a bit rusty, and reached yidhra's blindspot. he could sense the worry in her voice as she called out her followers. they were the ones who sent you those messages, they were working under her...! andrew steered straight into them and you had to look away. what you saw horrified you even more. miss nightingale was slowly being transformed into one of those soulless creatures from yidhra's garden, and judging by the sudden jolt of pain in your tail, the same would be happening to you very soon. "andrew, please hurry!" you cried out to him.

in the blink of an eye, causing a whole lot of trauma for andrew, he crashed the ship into yidhra's snake body. she howled in pain before andrew dealt the final blow with his shovel. yidhra disintegrated into what looked like confetti, hideous scaly confetti. the sky returned to normal and from it fell miss nightingale's mask. the soul stealing process ended quickly for you and miss nightingale. she retrieved her mask and freed all of the other soulless merfolk in the garden, as well as moving andrew to the shore where he could rest. he appeared to have passed out.

hours passed and all you could do was sit on a rock across from andrew's sleeping form, watching him intently. you had one chance with him and you blew it, you were a mermaid again. he looked so serene when he slept, but the scars littering his body told you that he's fought battles you couldn't even imagine. nothing has ever been so close to you but so far.

andrew finally opened his eyes and saw you. his face lit up when his gaze met yours, but quickly returned to a frown when your tail flicked towards him. you wouldn't have legs ever again.

as you two stared in disbelief, your family rose from the water. "y/n," your mother hummed as she placed a hand on her mask, "you've grown so much."

in a flash, your tail began to sparkle and shift, but it wasn't painful like how yidhra treated you. your mother's powers came from loving you, not tricking you. your tail slowly split into two, into...

two legs.

no words could describe how you felt, your head snapped around to your girls who were wiping their eyes in awe. "go on, sweetheart. be with him." electricity filled your veins.

they finally realized how wrong they were about humans.

taking a tentative step onto the shallow ocean floor, you felt the sand squish between your toes and collapse under your heel. in a bout of pure glee, you sprinted towards andrew. he caught you in his arms and twirled you around, staring lovingly into your eyes. neither of you could believe this was happening.

"let's go home," you cooed.

"yeah. let's."

this time, when andrew walked back home with you, his butterflies were caused by complete adoration for you, not because he feared for your safety. he felt so free now that yidhra wasn't controlling either of you. he was looking forward to the life he'd be spending with you, his little mermaid.

#andrew kreiss imagine #identity v imagine #andrew kreiss #andrew kreiss x reader #i love yidhra but her as ursula was too good of an opportunity to pass up #rip her #identity v

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kyasarinkishinuma · 4 years

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Being Caesar's sister would include... (1/2) [Part 2 spoilers!]

I'll be making headcanons for Part 3 as well, no worries!

Part 2/2

Prettiest of the Zeppeli sisters, and oldest child after Caesar, you're left to take care of the family when he suddenly disappears like your father had years ago.

Unlike him, though, you don't develop a hate for the disappeared family member. You know your big brother would never leave you all like this without a good reason. Plus, you're fairly more cool-headed than he is.

As a result, once the next sibling is old enough to watch after the family, you go and search for your beloved brother. You miss him a lot, and you want the kids to be able to see him at least one more time.

As a result, you eventually hear tales of a handsome blond Italian roaming restaurants in Venice.

Initially, you take the role of one of the women he seduces, keeping in your excitement and playing it cool to see if he'll recognize you. You really hope he does. If he doesn't, you're certain your heart will shatter to pieces.

And then... "Wait. ....(Y-Y/N)? Is that really you?"

Caesar is absolutely overjoyed over finally seeing a family member after so long. His longing to be with you again along with your stubborn insisting renders him unable to keep the truth from you any longer.

However, he makes you promise you won't tell the others, to keep them from worrying. He'll end the quest his grandfather started decades over, if it's the last thing he'll do.

Therefore, you choose to stay with him.

Lisa Lisa accepts to take you in, even though you have little potential for Hamon. Your big brother seems to have inherited most, if not all of the bloodline's Hamon abilities.

You do learn basic Hamon tricks, however, for self-defense. Caesar insists, and he teaches you personally. Even though you're not after the stone masks like he is, being near him still puts you in danger.

You end up being a great moral support for Caesar. Sometimes you attend his training sessions to cheer him on, other times you tend to his wounds. You both quickly come to realize how much you have missed being together, the two oldest Zeppeli children.

When you're not with Caesar, you're usually with Suzi Q, babbling away in Italian and helping her with her daily tasks. She shows you how to cook several delicious meals, which you'll definitely have to share with the kids when you get home.

When you get home, huh... When will that be?

Once Caesar can come home with you, you decide.

When Joseph Joestar arrives, your life changes forever...

It becomes completely unbearable! The young man noticed you as soon as he first set eyes on you and has relentlessly been chasing you since. He has made it his personal mission to get you as embarrassed as possible!

Cheesy compliments, blown kisses, smooth invitations to go to the café... This guy won't stop till he has his way.

It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't tick your big brother off so much. He already didn't like Joseph, but now... Oh God. They're practically waging a war.

It becomes harder and harder for you to be around Caesar. Joseph and his relentless flirting has made him much more tense and protective than before. Fights break out between the two of you. You feel like you're strong and smart enough to handle Joseph, but Caesar feels the need to protect you.

Despite Caesar's jealousy, you eventually choose to give Joseph a chance and let him take you to a café. However, his relentless flirting really isn't getting him anywhere, and he eventually realizes it. "This is too much, isn't it?"

Once Joseph fully understands you're not interested, his pushed approaches stop and his more pleasant side is finally shown to you. Turns out he's a decent guy. Before long, you two become good friends.

Once Caesar realizes Joseph's flirtatious actions have stopped, he relaxes considerably. At that moment, you choose to tell him what happened, and he apologizes for his protective behaviour, realizing he should've trusted you.

Things go smoothly from there on out. Caesar is back to normal, and you're able to hang out with either one of the guys depending on your mood.

When the time to hunt down the Pillar Men comes, Caesar forces you to stay behind with Suzi Q, despite your complaints. He doesn't want you to be uselessly put in danger.

He promises you he'll be back soon.

And yet, as Lisa Lisa, Joseph and he drive off, waving goodbye to Suzi Q and you, you have a horrible feeling.

...

You take it upon yourself to tell your remaining family the horrible news.

However, you choose to reveal only part of the truth. They don't need to know that Caesar was on a quest. He had begged you not to tell them, to protect them. You'd oblige.

Upon coming back to Venice, alive and well, Joseph gives you your big brother's headband, all that's left of him.

He offers you to come to America with Suzi Q and him, but you turn him down. You have a family to go back to. You do promise each other that you'll visit, though.

And with that, you head home, clenching Caesar's last gift.

[To be continued...]

#jojo's+bizarre+adventure+x+reader #jojo+x+reader #jojo part 2 #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure battle tendency #caesar zeppeli #caesar zeppeli x reader #joseph joestar x reader #jojo headcanons #jojo imagines #joseph joestar #jjba #jjba imagines #jjba headcanons #jjba x reader #jojo au

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clovd-9 · 4 years

Text

sway ↛ park seonghwa

Genre: AU (Great Gatsby?) / fluff

Style: short / bulleted

A/n: wrote this at 3am so sorry for inconsistencies or typos! somewhat short but worth it.

Seonghwa but make him a British Gentleman from the 1800′s that’s rather mysterious and holds masquerade balls on his family’s estate

Park Seonghwa—the heir of his noble family and who most would claim to be the prettiest of all suitors

All the ladies and lads fawn for him

To be fair—he’s described to be sculpted by the gods

With his jet black hair that sweeps just below his eyes that are just as stunning as he

And every weekend he throws balls with a single requirement

Masks

These parties have gone on for years

And he’s always seen wandering about with a beautiful black suit and a dark red mask to cover upper face

Never has he danced with anyone, nor has he spoken to any of the attendees

Nobody knows the purpose of these parties but he does—he searching for you—his beloved childhood friend that lost touch with him

A Gatsby sort of deal where he searches and searches until he finds you one night

The attire you wear suits your figure, every curve and edge

He can’t deny you’ve grown to be a gorgeous young adult

But when your eyes pierce through your mask,,, oh boy

Almost 3 years of waiting for this moment causes his heart to implode

However you have no clue that your long long lost best friend is before you

But regardless of this, when this handsome strangers offers his hand for a dance,,, you can’t decline

You spend the night in his arms, laughing and talking for hours

His deep accent is intoxicating and you can’t get enough

Around midnight he gets up to leave,, but leans down to whisper in your ear

“Meet me in the library half past 12.”

Your chest lurches with excitement as you sit in anticipation

You had no clue why you were so excited,,, but the man with no name seemed so,, familiar and comforting

Like you had known him for years

So when the clock is at 12:24 you decide you can no longer wait

And you scurry off in hopes of seeing this mysterious man once again

And you do—right where he said he’d be

But his back is turned from you as he flips through a book

“Hello, Y/n.”

You become perplexed

“How do you-“

Your words catch in your throat as he turns around

And you feel everything around you slow

“Hwa?”

Your voice is soft and shaky as your emotions begin to overwhelm you

Tears stream down your face as he walks forward and begins to gently untie your mask

As soon as he’s done, he lets the mask drop to the floor

His fingertips are under your chin,,, then to your cheeks as he wipes your tears

“Oh how I’ve missed you, my dear.”

And as the world seemingly stops as he places his lips on yours,,, kissing you adoringly

#ateez #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez fic #seonghwa #seonghwa au #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa fic

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missjoker96 · 4 years

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This is another piece, written for my beloved friend @arthurflecksgirl because she deserves to be happy and loved.😘

The girl can be every female reader again.

Warning: This piece has nothing to do with my other written stories!! It's an own chapter and it came into my mind earlier. It also reminds on the subway scene, but it's my own written piece.

Enjoy it :)

What For A Cruel World

It was a cool evening in Gotham City as you left your work to go home.

You were alone, because your boyfriend was at home and waited for you to come home and kiss your lips hungrily.

He loved to threat you like his princess, because you were the only one who understand him, take care of him and love him. Other people would only insult him, beat him, kick him to the ground and call him a freak.

Maybe he was a freak, but then you both were two freaks in a cruel world full of hater and criminal people.

Whatever.

You walked to the subway station and waited until the subway arrived. Your heart was racing, because you were alone and not many people were around. A few minutes have passed and the subway arrived.

You got inside and sat down on a single seat and you felt a little safer, but your luck was over as you suddenly hear male voices. You try to ignore them, but it was impossible.

It was new for you that people stared at you in public places and even talk to you and suddenly you remember that you forgot to put your clown make up off.

"Fuck, I totally forgot to put my clown make up off.." You spoke to yourself in a whisper and a cold shiver ran down your back. You hoped that they would let you in peace, because you have nothing done wrong.

There was only a friendly and happy clown girl who wanted her peace.

One of the guys stepped closer and shouted.

"Hey clown! What's up?"

You didn't look at him and tried to ignore them all, but the next one asked his question and this one wasn't polite anymore.

"My friend just asked you something, clown! Better you answer him before I punch into your face."

You were scared and didn't know what to do. You couldn't escape them, because they were three big guys and probably clown haters. Always clowns! Why did they hate clowns? They are there to bring laugh and joy to unhappy faces.

And you were a friendly and happy clown. At least your face told that you look happy. The only part that was missing was your red clown nose, because you already took it off once you left your work. The clown nose made you to a clown and sometimes it was very uncomfortable to wear, because you were not only a nurse. Being a clown doctor made you happy, because you have seen it already in your boyfriend who works as party clown.

He was your idol.

Back to reality...

You began to sweat and you only wished that these guys would let you in peace, but they were looking at you with their annoyed and angered faces.

"I.. I am about to drive home from my work. What do you all want from me?"

You were scared and you looked into the eyes of all three men. One of them began to laugh and touched your hair, because he found you sweet and shy. The second one noticed the red clown nose in your bag and took it out, because he wanted to put it on your own nose. The third man clapped into his hands and spoke to his friend.

"Put her the clown nose on. A clown is only a clown with a red nose, right?"

They were right, but had no idea that you didn't want to wear it anymore. It hurt you within the time and to wear it a whole day, hurt really on your nose. And you never thought about paint a red nose, but this would be the next step in your future as clown doctor.

Children loved clown noses more on clowns, than a painted one. You have seen it yourself and right now you only had two choices.

Put your clown nose on or see the consequences.

Of course you decided to put it on and you grabbed the nose from your bag and after a moment you were the perfect clown again.

"The clown is complete. Is there anything else I can do before I leave the subway? The next station is mine." You looked at them and grabbed your stuff already, because you were ready to leave.

You thought they would let you in peace after you did what they wanted from you, but the fun just began as one of the guys stole your bag and threw it out of his sight. The next guy began to laugh at you and the third began to sing a song about clowns.

You felt how hot tears appear on your eyes and you ran to your bag with your stuff and fell to the ground, because the subway arrived your station. Good that you are a girl, because if you were a man then they would have probably kicked you to the ground. The subway soon stopped and you took your bag in your hand again, but you fell to the ground and all three men laughed.

"Stupid clown!!"

Insults. Clown haters everywhere and you left the subway half crying and ran away. Not many people were around and you didn't care a lot, because you were deeply hurt. Now you understood why people hate clowns and you wanted to know why.

"Look, a lost clown! Can we help you?"

A group of young people were looking at you and you didn't want to talk to them. You were a sad clown now and your make up was a mess of colours and you wore your clown nose.

"I don't need help." You said and stopped to run, because you were already away from the subway station. The next few streets and you would be at home again where your beloved Arthur waited for you. He would save your evening with his lips, his gentle hands and his warm body to keep you warm the whole night.

"Of course not, freak! Leave before we teach you a lection."

Your heart raced again as your ears heard this and you started to run again. What kind of nightmare was this? And why was Gotham such a cruel city beside the dirt and the rat plague? It definetely couldn't continue like this.

You kept on running until you arrived the building where you lived with your boyfriend. After you stepped inside, you waited for the elevator and saw the pictures in your minds again. The pictures of your horrible trip from your work to your home. And it only happened, because you were dressed as a friendly and happy clown.

Once you were in the elevator, you pushed the button to your floor and kicked your foot against the old thing. Anger grew inside of you beside your tears and your faked happy face. You didn't care if your make up was a mess, because you would get rid of it once you were in the bathroom.

The elevator reached your floor.

You stepped outside and went to Appartement 8J.

Instead of knocking at the door, you banged your head against the door. Arthur opened the door and looked shocked at your face expression.

"Oh my god, (your name). What happened to you?"

He took you into his arms and closed the door to check what happened to you. You could see his green eyes, his shocked face and you sank into his arms before you began to speak.

"I hate people. You know me that I am a very shy girl around random people, but just because I am a clown they thought they could hurt me with insults, laughing at me and force me to put my clown nose on. I can't take this anymore, Arthur."

You cried your tears out of your eyes and you smeared your ruined make up on Arthur's face, but he didn't care and stroked your hair gently with his fingers. All you wanted was to be friendly, but to get insulted was enough to hurt you. But Arthur understood you very well.

"They should be glad that I wasn't with you, because then I would have showed them what real fun is. Come, (your name). We will clean the make up from your face and then let me kiss the pain away from you."

He couldn't await the kiss and placed his soft lips upon yours. The clown nose of you was in the way and Arthur giggled before he removed it from your nose. You felt safe in his arms and closed your eyes for a moment, because you needed this affection and love from your boyfriend.

And your voice sounded so sweet as ever before.

"But a clown is only a clown with his red nose on, right sweetheart?"

You looked into his eyes again and he placed his warm hands on your cheeks. A warm smile appeared on his handsome face and he spoke to you with sweet words.

"My sweet, (your name).. Yes, a clown's mark is the red nose. And he wouldn't be the perfect clown without it, but you are the cutest and prettiest clown I've ever seen. Let me remove your make up now."

Arthur's words made you happy and you took the clown nose and put it on his nose. A giggle escaped from your painted lips and you kissed his lips deeply. He repeated your kiss and whispered into your ears.

"I love you so much, (your name)."

You wrapped your arms around Arthur's neck and repeated his words.

"I love you too, Arthur. We both are clowns and we will show it these clown haters."

Arthur looked at you with an evil smirk on his face and took you on his arms. He agreed with you and took you into the bathroom, because he wanted to share a nice and romantic bath with you.

"Yes, we will show them that clowns can fight back in their own funny way. We can defend ourselves better than our enemies can."

You laughed and were so glad that your beloved Arthur was a clown too, like you. And you could thank him to be a clown. He showed you how to practise being a funny clown before you started a second job as clown doctor.

First you were afraid, but now you loved it and the most important thing was that your boyfriend loved your skills as funny clown doctor and he knew that you would make it in your role as clown...

(I wrote this piece, because I knew that you were so sad and hurt the last days and had to write something to make you feel better again. I hope you feel a little better now my dear.♡♡♡)

#Fanfiction #Clowns #ArthurFleck

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allycat-writes · 5 years

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Dress

A/N: Still on my Doctor Strange kick and not at all sorry about it. This contains exactly zero IW or Endgame spoilers (and basically ignores both movies except that pretty much everyone knows everyone). So, bam. Will Tony Stark and Stephen Strange get along with both of their egos long enough for all involved parties to celebrate his fiancée Pepper’s birthday gala celebration?

Pairings: Stephen Strange x Master of the Mystic Arts!Reader, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: Uh, literally none this time I think. A tiny bit of jealousy and overprotectiveness? Maybe some implied messing around sorta in public?

Also, as always, likes are incredible, but reblogs (and getting this out to a larger audience!!!) are gold, kisses, lovelies!

(Not my GIF)

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“I thought you hated Tony Stark.”

“I do. Which is precisely why I have to show up and outshine him at his own party.” You sighed, turning to roll your eyes at Stephen as he examined his reflection in the mirror. You sat down on the nearest surface to slip your heels on with a slight wince at the discomfort of the shoes. Stephen struggled with the bow tie for a moment, feeling your eyes watching him from across the room. He sighed, turning towards you with a small smile. “Would my lovely girlfriend be my hands once more?” You smiled back, standing up and crossing the room to him. You reached out, softly fixing his bow tie.

“There. Handsome as ever, Stephen,” you breathed, flipping his shirt collar down and smoothing it out.

“I’ll have the prettiest girl on my arm for the night.” You blushed under Stephen’s soft gaze, his eyes focused on your face. He took your hand, spinning you around to examine the emerald dress clinging to your body. Stephen smiled, pulling you close. “How have I been this fortunate? What in my life has been good enough to warrant this? You being here? With me?” You smiled, your cheeks heating up at his kind words. Stephen gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger to draw you closer with a shaky hand as he leaned towards you, pressing your lips to his. After a moment, you hummed and pulled away.

“If we’re not careful, we might not make it to Stark’s party at all,” you teased him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Stephen laughed.

“Oh no, we’re attending this party. I have to go remind Stark that, stunning as Pepper is, my girlfriend is the most stunning creature to ever exist.” Stephen turned to look in the mirror once again before turning back to you. He offered you an arm and you smiled, happily accepting it. He raised his free hand to form a portal. You stepped through together and started up the stairs of the building. A well dressed man opened the door for you, stepping aside so you and Stephen could pass.

“Thank you,” you murmured, giving the man a kind smile.

“Of course Stark would throw a party this extravagant,” Stephen muttered, his eyes roaming over the interior of the building.

“What is this gala even for?”

“Sabrina the Teenage Witch! Witch Doctor! Glad you guys could make it to Pepper’s birthday gala. Honestly didn’t expect either of you to show up,” Tony started, causing you and Stephen to turn towards him.

“I did RSVP to this. Why wouldn’t we be in attendance?”

“You and me don’t really get along most of the time, Doc,” Tony shrugged. He looked the pair over and gave a low whistle. “You two clean up nice, magicians.” You smiled.

“Isn’t Stephen just the handsomest thing you’ve ever seen?” you asked, giving Stephen a half-smile. He smirked. Tony laughed, nodding his head.

“Definitely an upgrade from the cape,” Tony agreed, with a grin. “But do the rings really match the outfits?” Stephen scoffed.

“Like either of us would go anywhere without our sling rings, Stark.” Tony rolled his eyes as he took his sunglasses off. He gestured to a waiter carrying glasses of champagne, the young boy hurrying over. You smiled, picking up a long stemmed glass with two fingers, taking a delicate sip. The boy smiled back as Stephen picked up a glass as well. Tony gave a small salute to the couple before starting away.

“Well this should make for an interesting night,” you whispered, your eyes scanning the room at the superheroes, government agents, and normal people mingling in the spacious ballroom. “Hey, uh, Stephen?”

“Hmm?” Stephen hummed, his attention turning back to you.

“Isn’t part of your job as Sorcerer Supreme to keep an eye out for threats to our universe?”

“Obviously,” Stephen muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Well, Loki is right over there with his brother and Wanda Maximoff.” Stephen turned, his eyes scanning the room. He froze as he spotted the dark-haired god, his eyes lazily sweeping the room. Loki fixed Stephen with a bored stare until he spotted you by his side, his expression changing to one of intrigue.

“Oh no.” Stephen started to pull you away, causing you to lightly bump into someone. You opened your mouth to apologize when you turned to look at the person, your eyes widening when you realized the person you had bumped into had been Princess Shuri of Wakanda.

“I am so—” Shuri laughed, waving a hand.

“It is really not an issue, I should have also been looking at where I was going. My apologies,” she replied, grinning at you brightly. She dipped her head at Stephen. “Sorcerer Supreme.”

“Princess,” Stephen greeted her, dipping his head in return. Shuri gave you a wink before slipping off. You watched as Okoye gave an exasperated sigh before hurrying after the young girl, rolling her eyes at you as she passed. You grinned, turning your head to watch them.

“Doctor Strange!” You and Stephen turned at the voice, relaxing at the sight of Steve Rogers flanked by Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.

“Captain America. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” Stephen replied with an easy smile. You met Sam’s eyes and a smirk replaced the small smile on his lips.

“Hey, Y/N. Having fun?”

“So far, so good but the night is still young and I have only just arrived,” you mused, a small grin on your face. Sam laughed.

“Well, you ever get too bored, I’ll be around.” You felt Stephen tense up beside you, his arm tightening around yours.

“Thanks, Sam, I’ll keep that in mind.” Stephen excused the two of you before steering you away. “You’re the one who wanted to keep our relationship private, Strange,” you reminded him, gently.

“I’m just glad Stark is taken or he would never shut up about you.”

“Y/N! Stephen! I’m so glad that you two made it!” You turned to smile at Pepper, letting go of Stephen to hug the redhead.

“Happy birthday, Pepper!” Pepper laughed, hugging you back.

“Thank you so much,” she breathed, smiling widely. “My fiancé did make sure to welcome you, didn’t he?”

“Yes, your intended did welcome us in with open arms,” Stephen replied, hugging Pepper once you had let her go.

“Good, I’m glad. I know you boys have your rivalry so I’m glad you’re getting along tonight,” Pepper paused as someone called her name, “I really hope you lovebirds enjoy yourselves tonight.” She shot you a wink before moving back into the crowd.

“I thought—”

“I didn’t tell her. But you have been rather glued to my side all night,” you reminded Stephen, raising an eyebrow. Stephen opened his mouth to speak when a gentle hand grabbed your elbow. You turned your head sharply, relaxing at the sight of Wanda and Natasha grinning at you.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s have some fun, no?” Wanda whispered, raising a delicate eyebrow. You nodded, grinning back. You squeezed Stephen’s hand before following after Wanda, Nat walking beside you. “Who are you trying to impress with that dress? It is definitely stunning. And half the men in this room can’t seem to keep their eyes of you, Strange included.” You glanced back, Stephen’s eyes still trained on you as he sipped his champagne. The girls beside you giggled.

“Maybe I am trying to impress Doctor Strange,” you shot back, waggling your eyebrows suggestively. Wanda laughed, shaking her head at you.

“You hardly need it. At least 43 percent of the men in the room are plotting to find a way to get you to leave with them,” Natasha smirked, glancing around the room.

“I literally walked in on a man’s arm.”

“And? That does not stop them, darling,” Wanda pointed out over her shoulder.

“Okay, enough of my love life, where’s Vis?” you asked, scanning the room as Wanda led you to a secluded spot by the wall.

“He is here somewhere. I think he and Bruce were speaking together earlier.” You smiled as you noticed Vision making his way through the crowd towards the three of you. Vision smiled at you and Natasha as he reached Wanda’s side.

“Do you ladies mind if I steal my beloved away for a while?” he began, still smiling gently. You grinned, shaking your head lightly. Vision turned to look down at Wanda, offering her his hand. “Wanda, darling, would you care to dance?” Wanda smiled, accepting the hand before turning to wave as Vision walked her towards the dance floor.

“Good. I’m glad her and Vision are happy.” You nodded in agreement.

“Speaking of happiness, where’s Clint? I haven’t seen him yet.” Natasha turned her head, gesturing to where he was leaned against the bar talking to Rhodey as he sipped on his drink.

“Are you and Stephen ever going to actually announce your relationship?” You raised an eyebrow at the assassin.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, coolly. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t.” Natasha turned as Clint approached, smiling softly at him. Clint smiled back, brushing a reddish-auburn curl behind Natasha’s ear.

“Would you two just get out of here? You’re making me sick,” you teased, smirking slightly. Natasha rolled her eyes at you, taking Clint’s hand and starting to pull him away. You watched them go, still smiling slightly. You turned to take a step, almost running into someone again.

“I would be more careful if I were you, darling.” You tensed up at the familiar voice of the Asgardian prince, his blue-green eyes fixed on your face and expression curious.

“Loki.”

“It is, Y/N, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Was there something I could do for you?” you replied, keeping your voice even and uninterested. Loki’s smile widened at your disinterest.

“Would you care to dance?”

“I try to avoid dancing with sadistic beings with genocidal tendencies.” Loki laughed.

“What harm can one dance cause? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” he paused as you rolled your eyes at the sarcasm expertly lacing his words, “I won’t stop asking until you say yes.” You sighed, grimacing slightly. “Just one dance and I will let you enjoy the rest of this evening.”

“Why do you want to dance with me so badly?”

“I always attempt to make it a habit to at least share a single dance with the most stunning attendee at every party I attend.” Loki extended his hand, his expression intense. You paused, weighing over the options in your head before you hesitantly took his hand, letting him lead you over to the crowd of people dancing in the center of the room. “Milady.” He bowed before raising back up and placing a hand on your waist, taking your hand with the other. You placed your free hand on his shoulder, cautiously. As you danced, you caught sight of Stephen from across the room, his eyes narrowed at you. As the dance came to an end, Loki opened his mouth to speak before someone grabbed your hand, pulling you away. You startled, glancing over to see Stephen walking in front of you, his grip tight on your hand as he pulled you into a hallway, away from prying eyes.

“What on earth are you doing?” he whispered, turning towards you.

“I was dancing. It was one dance in a room full of people. I don’t think I was in any danger, Stephen,” you replied, your voice soft as you crossed your arms in front of you.

“He is dangerous, Y/N. He should be the last person you associate with.”

“Stephen, I’m just as good as you are. I can take care of myself. You don’t need to protect me.” Stephen sighed, his body sagging slightly as the tension left his body. He tugged your hand gently, pulling you towards him. You rolled your eyes before you moved towards him so he could wrap his arms around you. You relaxed slightly at his embrace until he started moving towards the wall. “What are you doing?” Stephen smirked, pressing you against the wall, his body moving to cover yours.

“Guaranteeing that everyone knows that you are spoken for in every sense of the word, my love.”

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In case anyone is curious, that’s the dress ^^^ (or just imagine a different one, that’s fine too!)

Permanent Tag List:

@mezzomercury

@angeleyesmalek

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xiufaery · 4 years

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Stitches ↠ three

svt gang au warnings: a few mentions of violence, mingyu being a baby

masterlist

CHAPTER THREE: HOUSE CALL

The rest of the week was, thankfully, pretty boring. Naeun quickly got used to working while tuning out Sejeong’s seemingly endless chatter. She liked her, but the older woman had so much energy that it was hard to keep up with her. “What about you, Naeun?” Sejeong asked, taking a break from talking about her beloved husband’s achievements. “Do you have a boyfriend?” “No,” Naeun replied without looking up from the patient’s chart. “Mrs. Kang, how are you feeling?” “I feel a lot better,” the woman was busy putting on makeup, although Naeun wasn’t sure where she was planning to go while connected to all those tubes and machines. “You look better,” she told her. “You were overworked and dehydrated, but you should be able to go home in a few days.” “Can’t I go now? I’m needed at the office- “ Sejeong shook her head and put her hand on Mrs. Kang’s shoulder, stopping her from getting up. “The doctor said you need to rest, so rest.” “And don’t even think of going back to work the moment you leave the hospital,” Naeun added. “Unless you want to come back here again.” As soon as they left Mrs. Kang’s room, Sejeong spoke up again. “So, about that boyfriend…” Naeun laughed. “You mean the nonexistent boyfriend who I spent my nonexistent free time with?” “Come on, there must be someone! Or there was someone. There’s no way a cute girl like you never had a date.” “I had dates,” Naeun shrugged. “And I had a boyfriend. We broke up a year ago.” “Why?” “He complained that my education and career are taking up all of my time. He wanted me to choose between him and nursing,” she told her, rolling her eyes. “So I told him he knew where the door is, and to come back if he ever decides to grow up.” Sejeong whistled and laughed. “Wow, I wish I could’ve seen his reaction.” Naeun grinned. “He looked like I punched him or something. He packed his things, threw a tantrum and slammed the door.” Shaking her head, she added, “Good riddance.” “Yeah, who needs men?” “Sejeong, you’re married.” “Who needs men other than Subin?”

↠ ↠ ↠ ↠ ↠

Naeun’s favorite day had to be Saturday, her day off. Working odd shifts had messed up her sleep schedule and left her exhausted, so she was looking forward to staying in bed the entire day. Nothing in the world could make her leave her house today.

Well, nothing except an annoying, irresponsible gang member.

“Jeonghan, he better be dying if you’re calling me on my day off,” her attempt to sound angry was interrupted by a loud yawn escaping her mouth. What time was it? A quick glance at the clock that read ’11:42AM’ made her plant her face onto the pillow. It was way too early, considering she went to bed at 4am. “I’m sorry, Naeun, but he won’t listen to me,” Jeonghan’s soothing voice would have made her fall asleep if he hadn’t mentioned him. Just the thought of Kim Mingyu made her want to hit something. She had been texting Jeonghan all week. As promised, he kept her updated on Mingyu and taking care of him according to her orders. But as Naeun quickly found out, Mingyu didn’t like having to lay in bed and do nothing, and he was constantly trying to sneak out. Jeonghan told her about Mingyu falling and hitting his head a few days ago, worrying that he might have brain damage, but Naeun assured him that he needed a brain for that. “What did the idiot do now?” her voice was muffled by the pillow. “He wants to remove his stitches.” “Nah.” “Naeun, he said if you don’t come and remove them, he’ll do it himself.” Of course he would. Naeun considered her options. She could let Mingyu suffer from his own bad choices, which might lead to her having to stitch him up again… or she could give up a few hours of sleep, remove his stitches, and never hear from him again. “Naeun?” Jeonghan asked. “Did you fall asleep again?” “I wish,” she muttered. “Fine, text me the address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jeonghan quickly thanked her and hung up, probably running after Mingyu again.

With a whine, Naeun sat up and rubbed her eyes, wincing when her bare feet touched the cold floor. She took her time getting ready, making sure that her skirt had no wrinkles on it and her black hair fell in perfect waves down to her shoulders. It wasn’t so much that she loved dressing up (although she definitely did), as it was the need for petty revenge; Mingyu was the reason she gave up her precious sleep on her day off, so she was going to make him wait as long as possible. Grabbing her phone, she saw a message from Jeonghan with their address. It was close, only a few blocks away, so she could walk there. She thought of asking if they had a first-aid kit, but decided to just grab the medical kit she always had at her apartment. As Naeun was heading for the door, her phone buzzed with a new message:

Unknown number ‘It’s Mingyu. Where are you? I have to get these things out.’

Naeun ‘I literally woke up an hour ago, let me breathe. I’m on my way. And tell Jeonghan that he’s dead for giving you my number.’

Her phone buzzed again not ten seconds later but she decided to ignore it, choosing to focus on all the ways she could kill Jeonghan.

↠ ↠ ↠ ↠ ↠

A small part of her was surprised to see that, at least from the outside, Seventeen’s house looked completely normal. It was an ordinary house three stories high, looking like it belongs to a middle-class family and not to a gang. She kind of expected security guards, cameras and scary old buildings, not a well-kept garden and a picket fence. In fact, the only thing that indicated the place belonged to Seventeen was the gun that was pointed at her face the moment the door opened.

Naeun huffed in annoyance. “Is it my face? Is there something about my face that makes everyone want to shoot me?” The man didn’t seem amused. “Who are you? Why are you here?” “Jeonghan didn’t tell you?” she asked. “I’m here to stop Mingyu from performing a minor surgery on himself.” The man lowered the gun. His glare was immediately replaced with a shy smile. “Oh, so you’re Naeun?” he invited her inside. “Sorry about that. We don’t usually get visitors.” “So it’s not my face?” He laughed. “No, your face is fine. The prettiest face I’ve seen in a while.” Naeun smiled at that, her cheeks turning red. “Well, seeing how accident prone Mingyu is, you’ll probably get to see this pretty face quite a bit.” “I’m definitely going to stop complaining about him, then.” The way he was looking at her and standing so close to her was making her brain go haywire. He was definitely one of the most good-looking men she’d ever met. His brown hair was messy, like he just got out of bed, but it made him even more handsome, and his cheekbones were so sharp she could cut her hand touching them. “So cute,” he reached out and softly pinched her cheek. “You’re so red.” She stepped away from him, covering her face. “Stop that,” she scolded playfully. “I’m here to take care of your friend, not to flirt with you.” “Why can’t you do both?” he asked before shrugging his shoulders. “Never mind, his room is upstairs. I’ll show you.” Thankfully, he kept his distance from that moment on. Naeun wasn’t particularly shy, but she couldn’t handle people being too close to her. “This is his room,” they stopped before one of the many doors on the second floor. “I’d go in, but he’s been whining all week and I’m kind of tired of it.” “He’s such a baby,” Naeun commented, making him laugh.

She stepped into the room and was immediately bombarded with questions. “There you are! What took you so long? Do you live on the other side of the country? Can I finally get these stupid stitches off?” Naeun turned back to give the flirty man in the doorway a tired look. “She’s here to help, Mingyu,” he scolded him. “Can you at least be polite?” “Like you’re any better, Jun.” Mingyu shot back. “Is flirting with everything that moves called ‘being polite’?” “I do not—” “Naeun,” Mingyu turned to her. “He started flirting with you the moment you walked in, didn’t he?” “Uh, what?” was all Naeun could manage to say, a little taken aback by the slight jealousy in his tone. Jun rolled his eyes. “Ignore him, Naeun. He’s just pissy because he wasn’t allowed to go on any missions all week.” With that, Jun shut the door, just in time to avoid being hit by a flying pillow.

When Naeun and Mingyu were finally left alone, an awkward silence set over the room. She looked around, trying to avoid his gaze. The room wasn’t too big, a desk and a large closet being the only furniture other than the bed. The walls were painted light blue with a few photos and posters on them, and shelves packed with action figures. Mingyu was laying on the bed, alternating between looking at her and the carpeted floor. It seems like he wasn’t sure how to start the conversation, either. He seemed confident when he was with the other members, but now that it was just the two of them, he suddenly became quiet. Naeun cleared her throat. “So,” she said. “How are you feeling?” “I feel a lot better,” he answered. “Almost no pain. Just the stitches are really annoying.” “Well, they kept you from bleeding to death,” she stepped closer to him and motioned for him to lift his shirt. “So I wouldn’t call them ‘annoying’.” “Well,” Mingyu mimicked her tone, smiling when she glared at him. “I’m not bleeding anymore, am I? So can you take them out, please?” Naeun inspected the wound. It seemed to have healed up nicely, although it would definitely leave a scar. Rummaging through her medical kit, she began working on removing the stitches, this time with little to no complaints from Mingyu. “There you go,” she said when she was done. “It will leave a scar, but maybe it’s a good reminder to be more careful.” “Thank God,” Mingyu let out a relieved sigh. “Maybe Jeonghan will finally stop yelling at me.” “Thank me,” Naeun grumbled. “I’m the one who did all of the hard work.” He chuckled, ruffling her hair. “Of course, thank you for not killing me even though you really wanted to.” “I’ll do it if you touch my hair again,” she said as she tried to fix the mess he made, but her tone wasn’t as harsh anymore. He could be nice when he wasn’t whining. Mingyu got up, taking her hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Naeun tried to protest, but Mingyu insisted on walking her all the way to her apartment. He couldn’t walk around a lot this week, and he had to get out of the house for a bit before he went crazy. They chatted a bit on the way, Naeun making sure to steer the conversation away from gang stuff. She might not dislike Seventeen as much as she did before she met them, but she still wanted nothing to do with them. She needed a safe, quiet life. Which is why, when they got to her door, she told Mingyu that she never wanted to see them again.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re not all bad, but I have a feeling you’ll only bring me trouble and I don’t need that.” Mingyu frowned. “We really like you, you know?” he told her. “And I thought you liked Jun…” he trailed off. “Jun?” Naeun raised an eyebrow. “I mean, he’s nice, and handsome, but I don’t like him that way. I could never fall in love with a gang member.” Mingyu’s face lit up. “You don’t like Jun?” “Why are you so excited about that?” she shook her head. “I don’t like you either. Like I said, I can’t be with— where are you going?” Mingyu was already getting in the elevator, a huge smile on his face. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow!” “You most definitely won’t!” she yelled. “Did you hear a word I’ve said? Mingyu!” It was pointless, as the doors of the elevators closed and he was gone. Naeun hit her head against the wall, completely exasperated.

What is going on in Kim Mingyu’s mind?

#Svt #svt mingyu #Seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen reactions #seventeen mafia au #kpop fanfiction #kpop mafia au

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fenrys-moonbae · 5 years

Text

A Bright Star in Centuries of Darkness--Chapter 1

Eleanor Ashryver, noble lady and Princess of Wendlyn, swore viciously as she looked over at Evalin and hissed "...Is he....singing?"

"I believe so, cousin." Evalin tried and failed to hide the smile spreading across her face, her eyes flicking over to the open window where a lovely tune waltzed, "it seems you've got yourself a tom cat yowling at your window."

Bloody gods.

----

A take on the story of Aedion's mother and Gavriel's meeting, relationship and eventual parting. Pre-Throne of Glass but follows all established canon points. Rating due to future sex scenes and some coarse language.

Hi All! This is a little short side project I decided to work on since I recently re-read Kingdom of Ash. Not much information is given on Aedion's mother in the canon or on what her relationship with Evalin and Rhoe was so I took creative liberty and established one.

The waulking song used for this chapter is located here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NRcXCdwfM9k

Enjoy!

----

Shafts of warm sunlight slipped through the high arches of the servants’ quarters of the palace in Varese as they worked, swathing the room in a buttery golden hue. The sparkling rays danced across the fibers of the wool as it thumped rhythmically across the table, setting the threads shimmering like emeralds.

Each press of the freshly dyed fabric against the wood thrummed through the sun-warmed hall as it was passed from hand to hand, tugging and stretching. Beautiful, lithe voices raised in unison in time with its cadence.

He mo leannan,

Hó mo leannan,

‘S e mo leannan a’ fear ùr—

An old fae ditty, reserved for waulking--- and one of Princess Eleanor Ashryver’s favorite tunes to sing during one of her most beloved pastimes. She’d routinely sneak away from palace duties to participate in it, spending her time singing and sitting thigh to thigh and elbow to elbow with the servants, her friends, kneading and stretching the bolt.

With a twist of her hands, she worked the fabric beneath her palms, feet tapping in time as her voice rose and fell along, her nail beds already saturated with deep emerald. The wool in her hands was freshly woven cashmere soaked in Terrasen green, crafted specifically for its future princess, Evalin Ashryver, soon to be Galathynius.

The lovely lady whose intellect and grace could crack even the hardest of foes, who was renowned for carrying a presence of wisdom and strength.

That was, if you didn’t know of the bashful creature she could become behind closed doors, the bright flush that overtook her pale skin when flustered or the rare but clever curses that could slip through her delicate lips when no one was listening.

It was those parts of her cousin that Eleanor knew and loved the best, the parts she knew that Evalin’s future husband would grow to love as well. That was, if they could get the blushing bride to walk down the aisle without her turning the shade of a tomato or spluttering like a broken spigot.

Fortunately, the event was still months off.

Enough time for dear Evalin to pull herself together enough that she might string coherent sentences together before being bound to her handsome and daring Prince Rhoe, heir of Terrasen’s great throne.

Eleanor couldn’t help but grin, the lovesick expression of her cousin’s fair face still dancing through her mind.

She’d never let Evalin hear the end of it.

Not that the young prince had responded much better according to the gossip that flitted through the palace in the wake of her return. Apparently, King Orlon had had a jolly time teasing the lovebirds throughout Evalin’s stay and had laughed quite loudly and openly at his brother’s attempt at courtship upon the princess’s departure.

Two birds of a feather then, destined to rule a bright and glorious kingdom.

She could not find room for more joy in her heart at the prospect.

Even if part of her panged at the emptiness that would follow her cousin’s nuptials and inevitable departure. While born a princess, Eleanor’s right was only in name, not poised to inherit any power or lands, and her future had always been somehow . . . flat and vague.

And without Evalin’s constant presence and companionship…

She gripped the fabric tightly as the next length was passed to her, her mind willing the worm of sorrow away.

Now wasn’t the time for such idle thoughts. Even if the prospect had chased sleep from her in the previous weeks, leaving her mind to wander in the darkness of her chambers.

Even if Evalin had looked prime to invite her to go with her, to whisk her off to Terrasen so that they would never be apart . . .

She banished the thought.

No, she could not go. Wendlyn was her home and where she would stay. Even if her dearest cousin was to set sail for foreign lands.

Close in age, she and Evalin had been hand in hand since they were children, nearly identical in appearance and thick as thieves and twice as mischievous.

The palace staff had bemoaned their more . . . adventurous endeavors. Even as encroaching adulthood had slowly stripped them of the freedom they’d relished in their youth, they’d still found ways to entertain themselves and stir up trouble in the way that only two young princesses might.

Old Nan had still yet to forgive them for stealing Lord Edgar’s wig six summers before, their teenage curiosity getting the better of them. They’d merely wondered if the rumors of it being made of cat hair were true.

The rumors, much to her and Evalin’s eternal disappointment, had been false.

Lord Edgar’s fit of rage and spewing had not been, however, the lord having fled the castle in such a rage that he’d forgotten to dress himself properly and had loaded himself into his carriage in only his underthings.

He’d yet to visit the palace again much to her cousin, the crowned King Glaston’s, annoyance.

Eleanor had remained unruffled when confronted, justifying that the man was insufferable anyway, hardly fit for life as a human much less as a lord. Evalin, ever the pacifist, had supported her claim, albeit in far fewer, much less damning words.

They’d been sent to drudgery duty as punishment: Evalin to the kitchens and Eleanor to seamstresses, in hopes that separating the girls might dampen their exploits. Much to everyone’s disappointment, Eleanor had discovered a love of weaving and now made a habit of sneaking off to join the servants. Evalin, for her part, had taken an interest in the culture of the demi-fae staff she worked with, going so far as to visit a small demi-fae village called Mistward to better understand their plight.

The same place where Evalin returned from now, due back any moment.

Far too close to the border of Doranelle and that heinous Fae-Queen Maeve, Eleanor thought with irritation. Maeve’s unexpected fascination with Evalin had left everyone in the Ashryver estate unsettled, the ancient queen’s wickedness preceding her.

The sooner Evalin was home, the better.

Waving her hands, Eleanor flicked the excess bits of dye and diluted urine from her fingers before gripping the fabric taut again, brushing her leg against the woman next to her.

The tune they were singing came to a slow end, fading on both her tongue and those of the women around her. Shifting her gaze, her eyes landed on one of the younger servant girls at the end of the row who quickly selected another, slapping the fabric in time, and began to sing jovially, her broad smile contagious.

Eleanor almost snorted at the song the girl had selected, sung in the common tongue--a tale of a handsome fae lord who had come to town to woo the prettiest lady and sweep her away off to his fine kingdom.

Oh, he comes o’er hill and dale,

Sword strapped right,

Bonny and bright,

Come to bid his tale--

Gods help any woman foolish enough to run off with one of the fae males, she thought harshly, With their immortality and brute strength . . . even if they aren’t difficult on the eyes. Not that she and Evalin had taken a habit of watching the visiting emissaries ride in, speculating on what was beneath those fine tunics--

Even caught up in the song and her work Eleanor didn’t miss the servant’s door opening or the soft scrape of boots as Evalin peeked her head into the room, her turquoise eyes searching as she scanned the room.

Relief flooded her.

Home and safe.

Tossing up a hand she waved Evalin over, who must have just arrived as she was still clad in her traveling dress, a cloak wrapped about her slender shoulders.

Watching her cousin’s approach, Eleanor immediately noted that her normally slim, proud shoulders were tight and her lovely mouth seemed pinched, even as she smiled sincerely at her. Sensing something amiss, she rose from her seat, leaving her portion of the fabric on the table to be rapidly swept up by surrounding hands.

“Greetings, cousin,” Evalin chimed, reaching out delicate hands to wrap around Eleanor and pull her close, the smell of smoke and the forest wafting from her cloak, “I am so very glad to see you.”

“As am I.” Pushing away, Eleanor looked over Evalin once, furrowing her brow in concern, the formality, the tight posture-- “Eva, is everything all right?”

Evalin’s eyes flickered behind them toward the servents, her pink lips down turning slightly—no, it wasn’t—but this wasn’t the place to discuss it.

Eleanor was about to suggest they go somewhere to talk when Lucielle, an elderly servant whose hair had once been as fiery as her temper, sent a knowing look across the table at the two princesses.

“Your Majesties,” she chimed, slipping away from the waulking table and dipping into a slight curtsey, “if you wouldn’t mind, could you perhaps take the old dye out? It would save an old woman with terrible knees a trip up the stairs.”

“Of course, Lucielle,” relief flooded Evalin’s face, her shoulders loosening, “we’d be happy to help.”

“Oh good, good, such lovely, kind ladies both of you.” The woman waved a withered hand over her shoulder. “There’s only a few bowls that need to go. Pour them in the buckets and dump it off into the grass.”

“Yes, of course,” Eleanor murmured, watching Evalin with an eagle’s gaze, “we’ll go now.”

“Bloody whore,” Eleanor swore as she slammed the buckets of dye and urine down on the battlement, her regal face set in a cool rage. If she ever got her hands on that dark queen--“How dare she address you like that?” “Language, Elle,” Evalin reprimanded, sending a long glance at the guards at the edge of the battlements. Their attention was averted from the princesses as they had been trained, but they still had ears. “And . . . it is what it is. She would listen to none of my pleading.” “Of course not,” Eleanor quipped, her sweet voice harsh as she threw one of the buckets they had carried up the stairs over the battlement walls and onto the grass below, splashing the ground with green dye and the urine used to set it. “How dare anyone call out the illustrious Maeve on her brutal rule.” Evalin had recapped the hardships the demi-fae faced, the scorn they received from both the humans and the fae. A people caught between two races with no home of their own--many of whom spent their lives trying to win the favor of the fae queen only to live their days out in poverty in the small rural villages between the human and fae lands.

“It would be a blessing on this kingdom and the next if she’d rutting keel over,” Evalin paled at the insinuation, even as Eleanor hissed in fury, “Gods above know that royal bit—” “Eleanor,” Evalin warned again, ever the water to Eleanor’s fire, “Ears, cousin. Ears.” “Piss on them,” she shot back, her vision nearly red as she thought on the fae queen. “If she’s so offended by my words then Maeve can come here and address it with me, but Gods know she won’t leave that stone throne or the harem of pretty warriors she collects.”

Evalin cringed as the words flowed past Eleanor’s lips.

But what reaction had she expected when recounting such news? Not only was Evalin the crown princess of Wendlyn and Eleanor’s greatest friend, she carried the bloodline of Mab, which entitled her to more respect that Maeve had ever given.

And going so far as to bargain with Evalin about her firstborn in exchange for the demi-fae’s rights--

“You shouldn’t be going back to Mistward, Eva.” She shook her head, the gall of the queen to try and barter with Evalin’s future child . . . “Stay as far away from the woman as you can.” “They are my friends, Elle,” Evalin murmured, running a hand through her golden locks as she glanced towards the mountains and the village that dwelled deep within, as though she could see all the way to that fortress, “and no one else will stand for them.” “And of your own safety?” She knew Maeve wouldn’t be so foolish as to attack a crown princess, but using magic to coerce-- “That has to be taken into account too.”

“I know, Elle,” she placed a hand on her stomach, as though her thoughts drifted to the life that would one day grow there, to the life that Maeve had so casually predicted. “I know.”

“Foul demon woman,” Eleanor grumbled as she lifted third bucket of dye to dump over the battlements edge, perhaps it was best her cousin was going to Terrasen, if for no other reason to be away from gods damned Maeve, “I hope I never see the likes of her.” “Me either, Elle.” Evalin shook her head, her honey-colored locks catching the light of the fading afternoon sun, before smiling up at Eleanor, finally, a true smile. “Though I am glad to see you. I’ve missed you in our weeks apart.” “Me too Eva, the castle has been too quiet without you.” A laugh. “I thought you’d quiet enjoy your time alone without me tailing after you.” “Well, a bit,” Eleanor conceded, smiling mischievously, “though with word of you and Prince Rhoe’s engagement I haven’t been able to be away from even the mention of you.” A delicate blush rushed up the princess’s cheeks as she averted her gaze from Eleanor.

Better, Eleanor thought as she watched her cousin nervously run her fingers over her cloak, her mind no doubt lost to the prince who awaited her across the sea.

“Let’s celebrate your return tonight and stay together, like we did as children.” Something sparked to life in Evalin’s eyes at that, at the long conversation they would have through the night, the mischief they might get into.

“Yes, let’s.” She rose from where she leaned against the stone and watched Eleanor, her eyes finally full of the mirth and warmth Eleanor was accustomed to.

She mulled on the thoughts of Maeve, of the idle threats she’d made to her dear cousin as she walked over and picked up the final bucket of waste, testing its weight in her hand. “Do you know what I say, Eva?” she inquired, swinging the bucket and sending its contents sloshing all over the stone as she stomped towards the edge of the battlements, the image of the dark-haired queen sharpening in her mind.

Evalin turned her attention back to Eleanor, her mouth opening as though to speak, her hand lifting as though to stop her. “Elle, wait—" She lifted the bucket above her head and smiled ferally. “Piss on Maeve.”

Ignoring her cousin’s warning, she slung the contents of the bucket over the wall with a flick of her arms, willing somewhere, somehow that damned queen also had a bucket of green dye and piss being dumped on her.

A loud splash sounded as the liquid splattered down the stone, followed almost immediately by a soft grunt of surprise.

She froze.

Evalin cringed, even as she couldn’t help the amusement that darted across her face. “You threw it over the wrong side, cousin.” Embarrassment flooded Eleanor as she realized in her fury she’d thrown the waste not onto the grass but onto the street below the battlement, the one that led to the palace gates. Right atop some poor fool strolling up the path at the wrong moment. Blinking in shock, she braved a look down the side of the battlements to see a tall figure below, soaked in the urine and dye she’d tossed over the side, his fine grey cloak stained a blotchy green. He was armed to the teeth, daggers and swords adorning his body, an intricate bow strapped across his back along with a large pack. Someone who had been on the road for a long time. With growing horror, she watched as he pulled his hood free with predatory ease, revealing pointed ears and long blonde locks that were now also tinged green and most certainly smelled like urine.

He turned his head upwards to see where his unexpected shower had come from—

Beautiful, was the only thought that flitted through Eleanor’s mind as she took him in, devastatingly beautiful and undoubtedly fae.

Eleanor couldn’t bring herself to move, the breath rushing out of her as she took in his features, the tawny eyes, the broad shoulders and shapely throat encrusted with black markings—

And hanging loosely atop his tunic was a silver medallion now also dripping in murky green, a medallion in the shape of an owl that indicated the ruling house of Doranelle-- Evalin was now next to her, a hand covering her mouth as she muttered, her eyes wide.

“‘Oh, piss on Maeve indeed.” A hole opened up beneath Eleanor as she blinked, breaking eye contact with the fae male before quickly stumbling away from the battlement’s edge, her bucket tumbling to the ground in front of her.

She’d gotten her wish, no doubt. She’d just soaked one of Maeve’s soldiers in dye and urine.

She slid down the battlement wall and placed her head in her hands, ignoring the stifled chuckles that quickly turned into full belly laughs from Evalin.

Couldn’t she keep her damned mouth shut?

Evalin wasn’t certain Eleanor’s face would ever return to its natural shade as they wound down the staircase back to the bottom floor of the palace. No, she assumed she’d probably stay tinged pink until the darkness claimed her.

She’d tried to warn her that she was dumping the bucket off the wrong side of the wall.

And, as was Eleanor’s style, the rancid mixture had splashed all over one of Doranelle’s soldiers, no doubt from Maeve’s personal guard.

Her stomach had dropped at the sight of him, an uneasiness settling over her with his sudden appearance.

Eleanor had merely muttered “Traitorous Gods” before swiping up the bucket and rushing down the stairs, her skirt swishing as she took them two at a time.

No doubt her brother Glaston would be less than pleased with their cousins’ actions. He’d grown cold since their father’s death and his ascension to the throne--the young man she’d loved so fiercely as a child was now a shell of who he’d once been.

His coldness tended to manifest as criticisms of herself and Eleanor. Mostly wild, free Eleanor. He was going to be furious.

Not that anything could be done to right it now.

“Majesties, there you are,” an old woman crowed as she rounded the corner of the hallway and spotted the two Ashryver princesses making their way down the hallway, “Your presence is requested at dinner tonight, and seeing as you’ve been on the road all day, Evalin,” a look towards her dusty cloak and scuffed, muddy boots,” you need to bathe and change.”

Old Nan was as stalwart and round as she’d ever been, her harsh eyes buried beneath bushy brows as she looked over both girls with that assessing gaze. Evalin instinctively straightened her spine, correcting her posture.

Eleanor beside her made no attempts to remedy hers.

Evalin had to resist the urge to reach out and nudge her, a gentle reminder to keep them both out of trouble--

The old woman stopped her approach suddenly, tentatively sniffing the air before gasping, “Is that . . . urine?”

Evalin tried to keep her face neutral as she heard her cousin clear her throat, smoothly slipping into a protected position behind her, letting her take the brunt of their nursemaid’s fury. “Nan, please—” Evalin began, trying to placate the old woman before her temper flared, knowing it would likely be unfruitful-

“Eleanor!” A reprimand, sharp and unforgiving. “I’ve told you before, princesses do not waulk fabric. Lucielle will be hearing of this. I’ve told her again and again to not let you sully your hands with the piss of servants.” “And I order you to leave her out of it.” Eleanor snarled from her position behind Evalin, still cleverly hidden as she peeked up over her cousin’s shoulders and narrowed her brows, “Princesses may do as they like, need I remind you.”

An argument as old as the castle itself, one Eleanor and old Nan had had from the time Eleanor had been able to muster the word “no”.

Evalin could already feel the headache creeping in.

She desperately needed to bathe, to sort through her thoughts concerning the conversation she and her aunt had a week before, when, over tea, she’d nonchalantly inquired after the prospect of her and her betrothed’s future heir, violet eyes smoldering as she’d carefully gauged Evalin’s reaction.

When she’d presented the idea that, should she bring her heir to Maeve for training, she’d gladly grant the demi-fae access to Doranelle and rights to all its splendors, as Evalin had been tirelessly working to achieve over the previous years.

The conversation had left her feeling oily, eager to depart Doranelle and return to Wendlyn where she might confide in someone she trusted, in Eleanor, what had been asked of her, in private and without the watchful eyes of her family or the fae.

And now with one of her soldiers arriving here at the palace within an hour of her return home—who was now covered in dye and refuse thanks to Eleanor’s careful hand—there was much for her think on.

“Nan,” Evalin interrupted the argument beginning to build around her, reaching a soft hand out for her nursemaid, “I would very much like to bathe and have Eleanor help me dress if you’d be willing.” Nan’s dark eyes narrowed with simmering fury but she nodded anyway, sidestepping the young princesses and allowing them to pass.

“Be quick Majesty,” she called after, wiping her hands in the apron at her waist, “we’ve a guest tonight.”

“Wonderful,” Eleanor muttered under her breath, only hissing slightly as Evalin surreptitiously stepped on her toe, silencing her. Evalin had assumed as much, knowing precisely who their guest would be. She’d known it from the moment she had noted the tell-tale grey clothing of the warrior from earlier, the fine weapons strapped across him.

He wasn’t an ordinary foot soldier, but one of Maeve’s bloodsworn. The medallion was only a courteous marker for anyone who did not know of them. But any who did . . . it was not hard to identify them, lethal and vicious in the way they moved, their ancient presences near palpable.

Sent, no doubt, at the behest of her aunt.

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shannaraisles · 5 years

Text

Love At First Bite

A Ko-fic for @vanilllya, featuring her OC, Sabrina.

In the festive season, in the middle of a night shift, a veterinary surgery gets a decidedly panicked visitor.

[Read on AO3]

Griffon Lives Veterinary Center had a reputation for helping, no matter the time, complexity, or cost. They employed only the most dedicated of staff, and were known in the region as the place to go for any kind of emergency veterinary care. Most of the time, their waiting room was bustling, even in the dead of night. A quiet shift was almost unheard of; a quiet night shift was practically a gift from the gods. And at this time of the year, a quiet shift came with additional duties.

"Just a little bit more to the left ... no ... there! And about an inch higher?"

Perched on a chair, obeying instructions for the hanging of tinsel garlands over the doors, veterinarian Cullen Rutherford glanced over his shoulder at the receptionist giving the orders.

"Would you like me to grow a third arm from my forehead, too?" he suggested.

Leliana ignored the comment. "Just fix it there and come down before you break something important."

"Tell me again why Alistair isn't the one stretching to the ceiling with his ludicrously long arms?" the vet asked a little testily as he thumped down from the chair to survey his decorations.

"Because your backside makes for a better view than his," Leliana told him with a shameless grin.

From behind the reception desk, the nurse in question's voice made itself known.

"I resent that. And I'm busy making Isabela beautiful for the holidays."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Isabela doesn't need to be beautiful for the holidays, Alistair."

Alistair Theirin came into view, straightening from his crouch with a sleek black cat in his arms. Isabela was the clinic's unofficial mascot, and for some reason, she didn't mind being dressed up with a sparkling red collar and curling silver ram horns for the season so long as it was Alistair who did it.

"I beg to differ," he declared, holding the gorgeous feline up to rub his nose against hers. "Aren't you just the prettiest kitty in the whole world ever? Don't listen to that grumpy Cullen, he's just jealous."

The purring was almost obnoxiously loud, twinned as it was with a pointed glance in Cullen's direction before Isabela flicked her tail and nuzzled into Alistair's jaw. He grinned over at his colleagues.

"Yes, congratulations, the cat knows you are a soft touch."

Despite the resigned annoyance in his tone, Cullen reached out to offer his hand to the beautiful surgery cat. Isabela sniffed his fingers, finally deigning to mark his hand with a firm butt of her face against his palm. As Alistair adjusted to let Isabela lean her head heavily into the vet's hand, Leliana snorted with laughter at all three of them.

"And some people still wonder why we have such loyal clients," she commented, easing into her seat at the desk again. "It couldn't possibly have anything to do with two handsome, professional men, quite clearly wrapped around the paws of a very spoiled cat."

"She's your spoiled cat," Cullen began, trailing off at the sound of squealing brakes and the distinct sound of a car crunching almost gently into another vehicle immediately outside. "What the ...?"

As the trio turned toward the door and the darkness outside, they could just make out a terrible parking attempt and the shadow of a scrambling shape pulling open a door to heave ... something ... out of the back.

"Are they coming here?" Leliana asked, rising to her feet as the shadow staggered closer.

"It would appear so," was Cullen's surprised murmur as the door rattled.

Alistair handed Isabela down onto the reception desk and crossed the foyer in a couple of long strides, pulling open the door to admit a tiny woman in pajamas bent painfully under the weight of a large mabari, staggering into the light with bare feet and haunted eyes.

And time stood still.

Alistair saw the glistening grey eyes, pale and grief-stricken, filled with guilt and fear, and all he wanted was to wipe that terror away. Cullen saw the terror-fueled strength that allowed a woman under five feet to carry a mabari that easily weighed more than two hundred pounds, and couldn't help admiring her even in that state. Leliana saw a client in a state of shock and panic, and her two colleagues staring as though they'd just seen the most delicious festive treat laid out just for them. She rolled her eyes ... and time flowed again.

"He's dying!" the little woman exclaimed in panicked horror. "Please, you have to save him!"

"Oh! Right, yes, that's why we're here -"

Remembering himself, Alistair reached out to take the hefty canine from her arms. As soon as the dog was out of her arms, she whimpered, pressing her hand to the rigid belly worriedly.

"What if he stops breathing?" she demanded, big eyes shiny with unshed tears of utter panic.

Alistair hefted the mabari a little closer into his arms and pinned her with a reassuring smile. "He won't," he promised. "We're good at this."

"What happened?" Cullen asked, pushing open the door to the treatment room so Alistair could get in quickly.

"I-I don't ... I don't know," the woman wailed, hugging herself tightly. "He was fine, and then he went all floppy and his stomach's rigid, and every time he moves, he whines, and ... my brother's going to kill me!"

"Has he eaten today?" was the next question as Alistair laid the whimpering dog down on the table.

The woman bounced on her toes in the doorway, not making eye contact for more than a brief second before she looked away again.

"He had his biscuits, the same stuff he's had every day for the last two years," she insisted. "Oh, and, uh ..." She pulled a ripped bag out of her pajama pants. "He had most of these, too. I killed my brother's dog!"

Alistair took the bag from her as Cullen started to examine the mabari, stethoscope out to listen to the animal's abdomen even as the big canine attempted to weakly lick his face. At the door, Alistair smiled encouragingly at the panicked client.

"Why don't you go back into the waiting room with Leliana?" he suggested. "She'll look after you."

"You are going to save him, right?"

Alistair reached out, squeezing her arm gently. "We'll do everything we can. Just give us a little time."

Leliana wrapped an arm about the little woman's shoulders, gently drawing her away as the door to the treatment room was closed. The redheaded receptionist was used to having to console panicked owners while the vets and assistants worked on the animals, even owners who were as petrified as this one seemed.

Within a matter of minutes, she had determined that their client's name was Sabrina, she was house-sitting for her brother over the festive season, and she was genuinely terrified that she might have actually killed his dog on her second night. She had also learned that Sabrina was incapable of sitting still, or holding eye contact, and hadn't yet realized that she was wearing pajama pants that seemed to be staying up only by the grace of the Maker. The Starkhaven accent could have been soothing, if the copper-haired pacer hadn't been reaching a pitch only audible by dogs every time she started thinking about the mabari she had brought in. Her anxious gaze flickered often to the door behind which the professionals were working. No amount of friendly conversation could snap her out of it. And the touching ... Leliana didn't quite know what to make of the touching. Every now and then, Sabrina would seize her hand, squeeze it for a few seconds, then let go and resume pacing. But everyone was different. Leliana was used to seeing all sorts of reactions from those waiting to hear news of their beloved pet.

But less than half an hour after the door had been close, it opened again. Cullen stepped out, and immediately backed into the wall as Sabrina all but charged him from the waiting area.

"He's dead, isn't it?" she declared, mortified tears threatening in her voice.

Cullen blinked, glancing at Leliana with a slightly cornered expression before pulling himself together.

"Ah, actually ... no, he isn't," he assured the little woman, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. "We would just like to keep him for a little while longer for observation."

Sabrina's eyes widened, hope filling her gaze for the moment that it touched his before whisking away again.

"Really? And he's not going to die, he's better?"

Despite himself, Cullen smiled at this rather sweet response.

"No, he's not going to die," he began, instantly interrupted by a loud squeal from Sabrina.

In fact, not just a squeal - she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck with a delighted laugh. Shocked, his back bounced off the wall again, arms automatically catching her even as he felt the blush starting to make itself known. After all, it wasn't every day a pretty woman threw herself at you.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" Sabrina was laughing happily, peppering kisses onto his cheek as she dangled from his neck. "You're a miracle worker, a wonderful man, how can I ever repay you? You have totally saved my neck!"

"Oh, ah ... miss ..."

With his face burning, Cullen couldn't really do anything at this point, acutely aware that Leliana was watching this with one of those wide, knowing grins that annoyed him so much. In fact, Isabela was watching with her, the judgmental eyes of the beautiful cat seeming to scold him for not knowing what to do with the delightful pixie of a woman in his arms. One awkward hand patted Sabrina's back as he bent his knees, hoping that the sensation of her feet on the ground would encourage her to remove her arms. Not that he wasn't enjoying the unexpected embrace, but he was supposed to be the professional here.

Sabrina's tight grip loosened as she found her feet, but she seized his hands instead, that dancing gaze of hers flicking back and forth as she beamed up at him.

"What happened to him?" she asked. "Did I do something terrible?"

Momentarily distracted by how tiny her hands were in his, Cullen blinked, forcing himself to remember that he was a vet, not a teenaged boy in the arms of his first crush.

"Ah, no," he told her. "Well, yes. Treats should generally be given in moderation, not an entire bag at once." He smiled as she blushed under his gaze. "But the bag was actually out of date."

"But I checked, it can't have been!"

"It is written in Fereldan," Cullen assured her. "Someone from the Free Marches wouldn't be familiar with the characters used."

"So ... not my fault?" she queried, seeming to need this confirmed.

"No," he promised, chuckling softly. "Not your fault."

He grunted as she threw her arms around his waist, knocking the breath out of him with a squeeze that would have suffocated the dog if she'd been holding him instead. Catching Leliana's eye, he cleared his throat, absentmindedly patting Sabrina's head gingerly.

"Can I see him?" was her next request, and that, at least, was a question he could answer without concern.

"Of course. Alistair is just bedding him down." He untangled her arms from around him, and gestured toward another door. "Just through there. Take your time."

"Thank you!"

As she nudged open the door and slipped out of sight, Cullen caught Leliana smirking at him from behind the reception desk, feeling his ears burning once again. Without a word, he disappeared back into the treatment room. He knew he wasn't going to hear the end of this.

The kennels were warm with the sounds and smells of multiple animals sleeping and resting. Sabrina passed the smaller cages with little creatures inside - gerbils, rats, nugs, cats - peering ahead to where she could see the second of the men who had saved her life kneeling beside one of the larger enclosures. What had the vet said his name was? Oh, Alistair, that was it.

He glanced up as she approached, a warm smile creasing his face.

"Come to make sure he isn't in the gentle hands of death?" he asked in a merry tone, almost immediately backtracking at the anguished guilt that flared in her eyes. "Oh, no, I didn't mean it! He's fine, look!"

He gestured hurriedly to the kennel, where the big mabari lay on his side, his stomach considerably less rigid and swollen than it had been, with the satisfied look of a canine that had been given some truly effective painkillers. The dog raised his head happily as Sabrina dropped down onto her knees, licking her fingers through the bars.

"Thank the Maker," she breathed, giggling with relief. The mabari grunted cheerfully back at her. "You gave me such a scare! We are not telling your daddy about this, okay? You get all better, and I'll give you ice cream or something to keep it on the down low."

"Make it vanilla, dogs love it," Alistair suggested, his face brightening into a grin again as her gaze darted to his.

"Really?" Bright grey eyes flicked back to the dog. "Then vanilla ice cream it is, and don't tell your parents, mister!"

Alistair laughed, enjoying the sight of a tiny woman who had seemed on the verge of a complete mental breakdown when she'd arrived scolding and conspiring with a mabari gloriously out of it on special medication. In fact ... yes, she was very pretty. And all that energy was fantastic.

"So the vet said something about keeping him for a bit? Can I stay with him?"

He blinked out of his absent admiration. "Oh! Yes, we just want to keep an eye on him," he promised her. "He needs to rest, really. You can pick him up in the morning, though. We just want to make sure he's completely purged his system."

"So this is your job, huh?" She smirked in his direction impishly. "Purging innocent dogs who eat too much?"

"Glamorous, isn't it?" he countered with a cheerful grin, rising onto his feet. He offered her his hand. "Come on, let's let him sleep it off. Leliana'll give you our contact details, so if you get worried, just call us. We're here all night!"

"And I can come back and get him in the morning?" Sabrina asked, pulling on his hand as she stood up.

Alistair nodded, leading the way back out to the waiting area and reception, where Leliana took her quickly through the paperwork. Sabrina scribbled her signature to the release forms and payment, setting the pen down with a bright grin. Then she turned, and Leliana got to see her other male colleague turn bright red as the manic pixie-like woman wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you so, so much," she exclaimed happily, bouncing on her toes as he unconsciously bent down so she could kiss his cheek again.

"Oh, it was nothing," he began, interrupted when Cullen snorted with laughter behind him.

"It's a pleasure to see you smiling again," the other man told Sabrina, not quite fast enough to avoid being hugged yet again. Alistair pouted at being abandoned, but swallowed the expression fast when Leliana grinned at him.

"You're both awesome," she declared. "All three of you, absolutely awesome. I'll bring you breakfast in the morning. You like eggs, right? Eggs and toast. Oh, and bacon! Everybody loves bacon. I should go and sleep."

With a grin and a wave, she was gone almost before they had a chance to acknowledge her generous offer to feed them at the end of their night shift. Silence reigned in her wake, three faces turned toward the door - Leliana in amusement, Cullen and Alistair in definite shades of lusty surprise. It was broken only by the sound of Isabela washing herself in ladylike fashion. Then Alistair roused himself, tearing his eyes from the long-closed door to grin over at Cullen.

"Rock-paper-scissors," he suggested. "Best of three gets to ask her out first."

Cullen frowned at him, glancing down at the paperwork. "I think not," was his response, flicking a slightly wicked smirk back at his friend and colleague. "She clearly prefers me."

"Now, hold on a moment -"

"Boys."

Leliana held up her hands, laughing at the playful argument about to erupt. Two sets of eyes turned to her, half-guilty, half-indignant. She sighed, rolling her eyes at the pair of them.

"Make sure the dog lives before you start planning your wedding."

#ko-fic #vanilllya #modern au #aliatair theirin #cullen rutherford #sabrina - oc #leliana #isabela - sort of #veterinary au #mabari with a tummy ache #general panic #fluff and nonsense

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irinapaleolog · 4 years

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How the Devil Became a Dreamboat: Exploring the Byronic Hero with Kylo Ren

As it turns out, the popular problematic favorite and the OG problematic favorite are basically the same person.

Welcome to Elements of Story, a biweekly column about narrative tropes, what they mean, and why they just won’t go away.

For the inaugural installment of Elements of Story, and just in time for Valentine’s day, I’m going to dissect an archetype that has been causing a stir and setting hearts aflutter for centuries: the Byronic hero.

Definitions of the Byronic hero vary by source, but the basic gist is that he’s an arrogant yet emotionally sensitive rebel who rages against societal norms, is usually haunted by a dark and mysterious past, and has been a staple of romantic storylines for hundreds of years. You could literally write a book about the history of the Byronic Hero—indeed, multiple people already have—so for the sake of concision and also my continued sanity, we’re going to investigate the Byronic hero through the specific example of one of his most recent appearances: Kylo Ren (Adam Driver).

Ever since The Force Awakens first premiered, Darth Vader’s grandson and #1 fan has been a point of contention within the Star Wars fandom, particularly with regards to his dynamic with protagonist Rey (Daisy Ridley). While things have calmed down somewhat following the underwhelming finale that was The Rise of Skywalker, if you want to start a fight online about a galaxy far, far away, mention “Reylo” and see what happens.

One of the most genuinely befuddling things about the discourse surrounding Reylo is the frequently held opinion that its allure is anyway inexplicable or unforeseeable. Similarly, the common, lazy narrative that its popularity can be explained away as Adam Driver’s thirst-club projecting their desire onto the Star Wars universe reeks of ignorance. Whether borne of conscious intent or sheer coincidence, Kylo Ren is a villain who also fits a centuries-old romantic archetype like a glove in ways that are hinted towards in The Force Awakens and laid increasingly bare in each subsequent installment. That some viewers picked up on the Byronic subtext early while others did not simply speaks to the variance in media consumption habits and tastes between audience members. If you’re familiar with an archetype, you’re going to spot its likeness, and view said likeness through the lens of the implications baked in with that lineage. If you’re not, you won’t.

So, who is this Byronic Hero guy, anyway? Well, the tl;dr version is that he’s basically Satan and his origins predate Lord Byron by at least a few hundred years.

In truth, the Byronic Hero is so old that tracing his origins gets quite speculative. There’s not a singular definitive answer so much as a collection of theories. To give a relatively cohesive explanation of who this guy is and how he got here without writing a novel, I’m going to things down into two key questions:

What makes the Byronic hero satanic?

How did Satan become romanticized?

To address the first question, let’s start by talking about the Devil. I’m not going to say that John Milton was the first storyteller to make Satan cool, but he sure did make such a characterization mainstream with Paradise Lost. The most beautiful of God’s angels, Lucifer chafes at God’s omnipotence, convinces a number of his brethren to join him in a rebellion that ultimately fails, is banished to Hell and eternally damned, but stubbornly stands by his choices because, “better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven.” Milton’s Satan was, to use modern parlance, a beautiful trash fire—a handsome, passionate dreamer whose quick-tempered fervor proves self-destructive in spite of his considerable intellect. He is, in other words, smart enough to know that his hubris will be his downfall, but too in thrall to his passions for that knowledge to save himself from such a fate. He is a tragic hero as defined by Aristotle, an inherently sympathetic figure not as much in spite of his flaws as because of them.

not as much in spite of his flaws as because of them.

Let’s stop for a second so I can convince you Kylo Ren fits this pattern, in case you aren’t convinced already. With his journey from Ben “too much Vader in him” Solo to Kylo Ren, his rejection of his heritage and violent rebellion against Luke Skywalker, he follows the same basic trajectory of Milton’s Lucifer. And as far as personality is concerned, Ben didn’t gel well with the “there is no passion” Jedi code, and unlike Anakin Skywalker, it didn’t even take the development of a particular relationship for things to reach a breaking point.

Now, as far as how Satan became a romantic figure, we need to make a stopover with the Romantics because the journey from Romantic to romantic is really just semantics. Romanticism was a prominent intellectual and artistic movement in Western culture that took place in the late 18th and 19th centuries and encompassed everything from literature and painting to architecture and music. It emphasized emotion, spontaneity, irrationality, and the individual with a particular focus on subjectivity, and is generally regarded as a reactionary movement—a rebuttal against the rationalism that defined the Enlightenment.

Romantics loved Milton’s Satan. “My favorite hero, Milton’s Satan,” Robert Burns gushed, lauding Satan’s “intrepid, unyielding independence,” “desperate daring,” and “noble defiance of hardship.” That Byron, one of his contemporaries, would channel his admiration for the same figure into a series of mercurial protagonists that would codify an archetype is hardly surprising. While crediting Byron with inventing the Byronic hero is a significant stretch considering the archetype is really just Satan rebranded, there is one key component of this character that Byron did add to the equation, and that is a particular kind of longing that a number of commentators have likened to homesickness. “Love is homesickness,” Sigmund Freud wrote in his seminal essay on the Uncanny. In terms of understanding the human mind, Freud is one small step above total quack, but as far as narrative theory is concerned he made some compelling arguments, this being one of them. As Deborah Lutz says in her essay “Love as Homesickness: Longing for a Transcendental Home in Byron and the Dangerous Lover Narrative,” “the Byronic hero often[…] is a criminal, an outlaw who is not only self-exiled, but actively, hatefully, works against society as a murderous pirate,” yet also often feels, “pains of remorse, not only for his crime but also for his self-inflicted homelessness.” Kylo Ren, with his laments of “I’m being torn apart,” and “let the past die, kill it if you have to” rhetoric interspersed with explosive bouts of self-loathing, could not be more emblematic of this facet of the Byronic hero if he tried.

All of this helps explain what makes this archetype emotionally engaging, but not how “self-hating emotional clusterfuck” became sexy. In order to get to the bottom of that, we actually need to go back quite a bit. In Western culture, sexuality, death, and evil have been birds of a feather since the nascence of Christianity, which took vague correlations between these concepts already present in several Greek mythological figures and ran with them. While the Devil is often depicted as a hideous beast, the concept that he might also take the form of a man—specifically, an attractive one—dates back centuries (Lucifer was the prettiest, remember), and is apparent in a number of surviving records of witch trial confessions detailing demonic encounters. But taking on a handsome face is not the only attribute frequently bestowed upon Satan and his kin. As Toni Reed writes in her book Demon Lovers and their Victims in British Fiction, “identifying Satan and other demons with sexuality, especially with huge phalluses, may well trace back to Greek mythology.”

That’s right. Satan has serious BDE. Do with that information what you will.

It’s worth noting that the Byronic hero is ultimately a beloved romantic fantasy not because it represents something many people want in real life, but precisely the opposite, much like0 how enjoying seeing the lions at the zoo doesn’t mean you want one in your house. He’s a darkly tempting, narratively intriguing prospect that is enjoyable to experience vicariously through fiction, a Pandora’s box that can be opened and then closed again without repercussion. Times and tastes change and the Byronic hero evolves to suit them—devil, tempestuous gentleman, wannabe Sith—but his defining characteristics and their guilty pleasure appeal are eternal.

#tropes #kylo ren #the rise of skywalker #star wars

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louismirage · 7 years

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And My Heart Is A Hollow Plain~ IV

Its the 1600s and all Louis wants is the freedom he knows he will never taste again.

He knew happiness, knew a good life and love. Had dreams and reasons to see the good in people, to expect good things from life.

Forced into a marriage he will never get out of, all he’s looking for is a breath of life. Maybe something or someone to come save him from the hell he knows.

~IV

*Three Months Later*

Louis’ dreams had gone from nightmares to sweet dreams of that man named Edward. Everyday he would find an excuse to avoid having to sleep with Howard. It will always leave him with a bruise, but it was nothing compared to having him touch him and ruin his memories. He could still feel his touch, still thought about the many things they had done together. He couldn’t forget the pleasures he had showed him that night. He was now addicted, but without him there, Louis had no choice but to do it himself. He would finger himself almost every night to thoughts of him, would cum to thoughts of him licking him out. That had been Louis’ favorite activity.

He felt better, felt like things were starting to get better. He realized that they were more than better when he and his husband finally received the news they had been waiting for for the past four years.

“Liam! Liam, it finally happened!” Louis ran into Liam’s bedroom, wearing the biggest smile on his face.

“Louis, you are not supposed to be here! If he finds out…” Liam quickly closed and locked the door, making sure no one had seen Louis.

“The bastard’s gone to celebrate that he’s finally going to be a father. After three months I finally started getting symptoms and the doctor just confirmed it. I knew my dear husband was the one to blame.” Louis happily said, plopping down on Liam’s bed and putting a hand over his stomach so sure of himself that he could already feel a bump.

There wasn’t one there yet but Louis swore on his life that he could feel it.

“Thank god.” Liam sighed in relief, “I’ve been so rude to you for the past few months and I’m sorry Lou. I was just scared of something bad happening to you. I was paranoid he would find out.”

“Don’t worry. What matters is that I’m finally pregnant and that means he won’t be able to touch me for the next year or so. Maybe by then I’ll find a way to get away from him, I’m not going to let my child grow around him but for now I’m safe.” Louis sighed.

“Hopefully.” Liam agreed, “You know that I’m here to help you with anything I can. It’s not much, but I can try.”

“I know Li, you’re such a good man.” Louis smiled, “I noticed we have a new guard, Nick is his name.” Louis commented.

“Yeah, what about him?” Liam asked.

“Nothing, he’s just always watching me but I guess it’s because he’s the guard and Howard wants me to be protected at all times now that I’m carrying his heir.” Louis rubbed small circles on his belly.

“Maybe.” Liam said, observing Louis carefully, just watching him smile while rubbing his belly.

“Do you think the baby is going to look like him?” Louis asked out of nowhere, “I want our child to look like their father. He was so handsome, with the prettiest eyes and lips I’ve ever seen.”

Louis only smirked when he noticed Liam’s shocked expression, and the way he fidgeted with his hands looking more nervous than ever.

“You shouldn’t say those things Louis, if he finds out he will kill you without blinking.” Liam warned him.

“Relax, I’m not that stupid.” Louis rolled his eyes, lying down on his back and looked up at the ceiling, daydreaming about his baby and their father.

“He seemed important. Edward.” Liam said after a pause.

“His name was Edward too.” Louis looked at Liam with a pained expression, “That’s why I picked him, it wasn’t just because of his looks and his strength. I picked him solely because of it, and he’s probably just a thief. Looked like it.”

“No, the others looked important too. I just hope they never come back, especially him trying to claim the child.” Liam said, managing to scare Louis who hid it well.

“He won’t.” Louis sat up, and after a few seconds got up ready to leave, “He can’t come back.”

He left Liam’s bedroom leaving his friend a nervous mess, already thinking of what could happen and what he could do to get him out of trouble. Louis made his way to the garden seeing Lucy tending to the many flowers they had, it was the only thing Howard didn’t care about Louis doing as long as it didn’t get in their way at night. Louis took a seat on a bench putting a hand over his stomach then started rubbing small circles on it glad that for now that man wouldn’t touch him.

He was looking straight ahead until someone caught his eye and when he turned to look directly at them, the new guard Nick, was watching him with what seemed like a surprised look. He quickly looked away as soon as he had seen Louis already looking back at him and just like that, the smaller man walked back inside as fast as he could.

He felt like that man was watching him more than necessary. He had heard Howard mention he was sent from London, when the king himself had assigned guards all over the country. He didn’t care when it was none of his business. The maids were just making their way out of his bedroom after cleaning it, and he made sure to greet and thank them. That’s why they were loyal to him and he was loved, he respected them when Howard treated them like trash.

He looked at the entrance downstairs, seeing Howard walking into his study then heard him slamming the door shut. He knew he was in a foul mood and that’s when he decided to lock himself in his bedroom. Once the door was locked he went straight to bed and got comfortable. He looked around as he tried to think of something to do until he spotted his old journal.

The journal itself wasn’t important to him when he had stolen it from his husband's study, its what was inside that was the most important thing to him. He bit on his bottom lip and his eyes stung with tears when he realized something his Edward had worked so hard on, had ended up as a bookmark to keep Howard from throwing it away like the many other things Louis held dear. He grabbed the old paper and unfolded it, the tears finally rolling down his cheeks when he saw his messy handwriting.

It was similar to a child’s handwriting, but it was the most beautiful thing Louis had seen.

Edward never learned to read and write. Most of the peasants never had the opportunity to get educated. But against it all, his Edward had written him a letter. He would forever be thankful to Liam for helping him write it down on a separate piece of paper so that Edward could rewrite it himself. Edward’s thoughts would forever stay on that beloved piece of paper.

My dearest Lou,

I have finally saved enough money for us to get married and start over somewhere else far away from here. Liam has promised me to help us out and I trust that he will. I wanted to write this letter myself, to show you that you are always in my heart. My lovely dove, do not forget how much I love you. Soon we will have that family we always dreamed of. We might not have much, but I can promise you will have everything you’ll need with me.

I won’t let them separate us. Wait for me, my Lou.

With Love,

Your Edward.

And Louis had waited. He had waited when they were getting him ready for the wedding from hell. He had waited until the last minute when the news Howard forced Liam to deliver shattered his world. It was all over for him when he had broken down minutes before the wedding when Edward never showed up to rescue him like he had promised him many times. That’s the day he truly knew what Howard was capable of doing to get whatever he wanted.

He looked at the letter and placed a hand on his stomach, silently promising his unborn baby to do whatever he could to keep them safe. He wasn’t going to let Howard hurt his child. He had already taken his first and only love away. Louis couldn’t afford to lose more people dear to him.

****

The month passed by faster than usual for Louis when he was used to his days being long and boring. When Howard finally stopped hitting him and now pampered him, that’s when Louis could finally relax. He would still find it strange seeing him being too nice instead of yelling and slapping him like he used to do whenever Louis would so much breathe.

By what Louis knew was his fourth month mark he was already bigger than most pregnant men and women he would see around town whenever he would go out. Liam was so sure it was a boy, hoping deep inside for it to be knowing that it was what the Earl wanted, and for Louis’ sake he was hoping for a boy.

Whenever he wanted to go out he was happy to go with Liam, but hated that Nick had to follow him everywhere since the Earl wanted his heir to be safe at all times. Louis liked to laugh at that. With time he got used to Nick following him everywhere he went, and had even exchanged a few words with him finding out he was a good man. He had a husband and three kids back in his hometown who he dearly missed and worked hard to provide for them.

From then on now, Louis would spend his days fawning over his unborn baby, always waiting for that day in May where he would give birth and finally have it in his arms.

~*~

The sky was dark and the air rather chilly, making goosebumps appear on Harry’s exposed skin, finally having decided that standing in his balcony with only a pair of pants wasn’t a good idea. He walked back inside his warm bedroom and took a seat at the foot of his bed trying to get warm again. His thoughts going back to a certain blue eyed boy that he couldn’t get out of his head no matter how hard he tried.

He loudly sighed finally laying on his back wondering how he was and what he was doing at the moment. Just when the urge to get up and go find him got too strong, he heard someone knocking on his door. He quickly got up and opened it finding Niall on the other side of the door holding a white envelope with a postage stamp from another city.

“You got a letter...it just got here.” Niall informed him, and before he could finish, Harry had already snatched it out of his hands not even bothering to properly open it.

Niall stood by the door while Harry eagerly read it then decided to walk in closing the door after himself, just waiting for Harry to say something. He was about to say something when Harry looked up wearing an unrecognizable expression, a mixture between dread and excitement.

“I’m going to be a father.” Harry finally said, seeing Niall closing his eyes then rubbing his hands on his face.

When he finally said it out loud, the words echoed around his head. He didn’t know how to feel yet he was already thinking about what he was going to do.

“What are you going to do? You do realize your father is going to kill you? That child is second in line to the throne by blood, but if you’re not married to their mother then it has no rights.”

“Who says I need to be married to have a child. He or she is my child and next in line to my father’s throne whether I’m married or not.” Harry insisted, hearing a knock on the door and seconds later Zayn walked in.

“But it won’t be legitimate! A child born out of wedlock is nothing but a bastard to the rest of them, your father is going to castrate you and the church will make sure to remind you and the child for the rest of your lives!” Niall argued. “They could take the crown from your family!”

“He’s pregnant then?” Zayn asked, already knowing the answer, and when Harry and Niall nodded he looked down, “Does he even know your status? Does he know you’re the Duke of Cambridge?”

“I never told him, he thought I was some sort of thief and I never bothered correcting him.” Harry shrugged.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asked, “You know that whatever you decide to do I’ll always have your back.”

“Like I already had planned. As soon as Nick lets me know he’s given birth we’ll go get the child, doesn’t matter who tries to stop us but we’re not going to come back empty handed.” Harry said with such fire in his eyes it made Niall tremble with fear and disappointment.

“What about the child’s father and the Earl?” Niall asked, “You can’t just take his child away.”

“The child is mine Niall, it belongs to me.” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“You can’t be that heartless Harry, that baby is his child too. You know they don’t take it well if they lose a child soon after birth, especially males. The birth for them is never an easy thing. Just look at Nick’s husband, he almost died when he gave birth to their first child.” Niall insisted, then looked at Zayn wanting him to say something in his favor.

“He should’ve thought about that before spreading open his legs for another man that wasn’t his husband.” Harry smirked as he made his way to his desk to put the letter away.

“Well don’t expect me to help you. I’m not going to be part of this...this thing you’re going to do. I will not steal a child, I won’t take that child away from him.” Niall glared at them before he stormed out of the room.

“Are you going to turn your back on me too?” Harry asked a wide eyed Zayn.

“Of course not, it’s my fault you’re in this situation in the first place.” Zayn said, taking a step forward, “I would never turn my back on you.”

“Thank you.” Harry gave him a small smile.

Zayn nodded as he returned the smile, then left to go after Niall to try and convince him to help them out. Harry stayed back in his bedroom thinking how the five months he was going to have to wait for his child to be born would pass by painfully slow. He went to bed fighting the urge to go back to Doncaster and keep an eye on him himself but didn’t, knowing Nick could take care of him. Once his child was born and in his arms, Louis will no longer matter to him and what happened to him after that would be none of his concern.

#LouisTomlinson #Louis Tomlinson #HarryStyles #Harry Styles #Larry Stylinson #LarryStylinson #Bottom!Louis #Top!Harry #Mpreg #Pregnant!Louis #NewFic #New Fic

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