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superhero--imagines · 3 years

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Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here!

A/N: I apologize for all the profanity in this part ahead of time. I think I’m going to do M/W/Sat updates, as long as my writing permits, and then maybe Wed/Sat updates. I got the day off because it snowed so I thought I would post this since it’s ready haha

* Well you’re royally f*cked

* There’s a big stupid smile curled on your face, and every time you try to hide it, it just comes back wider

* You really shouldn’t be happy right now

* “What has you in such a good mood?” Edward’s got a matching smile of his own.

* Oh shit. It’s fine, you’ll just play dumb.

* “How do you know I’m happy?” How about the dumb grin you’ve got on your face you stupid b*tch.

* You would have smacked your own forehead if you weren’t aware Edward was watching your every move

* You’re lucky Edward’s nice and he doesn’t call you out on it

* “Whenever you’re happy it kind of radiates off of you,” his voice lowers “you know because of your powers”

* Ah, you didn’t know you did that

* “So what do you think about the new girl?” You blurt it out like it’s an intrusive thought

* F*ck. Just-okay just play it cool. Play it cool.

* F********ckkkkk what’s wrong with you.

* Is being happy making you act like a moron?

* He shrugs

* “Just another human, I kind of wish everyone would shut up about it though. Having to hear people talk about her and think about her is getting annoying. It’s like being in a tunnel with one too many echoes.”

* Ah, so he hasn’t noticed yet.

* “I wonder what she’s thinking about.”

* Edward just shrugs again.

* What the f*ck Edward take a hint!

* “Edward?”

* “Yes dear?” He has the nerve to grin after using that pet name. The criminal is teasing you. Some best friend.

* And still it makes you outrageously happy

* You have to force your smile into a straight line

* “What’s the new girl thinking?”

* He looks over to her, Tyler and Mike are fighting for her attention, both of them a moment away from tugging on each arm and shouting “mine!”

* You see him search, you’ve heard enough about his powers to know right now it’s like mall food court level of chatter for him, but in a few seconds he’ll focus on her and realize he can’t hear her thoughts.

* Knowing how prideful he is though, he’ll probably deny it.

* “I don’t know I can’t read her mind” he says bluntly. “Do you think the school music teacher would teach me how to play violin if I asked?”

* “What?!?”

* “I know it’s kind of inconsiderate to ask but-“ you click your tongue

* “No not that!” You gesture towards Bella “you can’t read her mind?!? Isn’t that kind of a big deal?”

* His eyebrows thread together

* “I can’t read your mind either”

* Yes but you’re from a completely different world, in a body that radiates despair (and apparently joy now). You’re basically like some type of eldritch being from another dimension.

* Edward doesn’t see it that though

* “Honestly it’s a relief, one less mind I have to tune out.” He walks ahead of you as you stay motionless in the middle of the hallway

* What the f*ck is happening?

* “Are you coming? We’re going to be late for Biology if you keep lagging behind like that.”

* How could you forget? The whole story starts because Edward is super into Bella’s blood! He fantasizes killing her for like- the entire class period.

* You were worried for nothing, just because they didn’t have the cafeteria moment isn’t that big of a deal

* The thought makes you both relieved and a little sad

* Still it’s for the best, this is the way things are supposed to be

* And who knows, if you have to leave maybe you can poach Rosalie and Emmett to leave with you

* And maybe Jasper, he won’t like having a human around the house all the time

* “Mr. Cullen, Ms. Eleazar” Mr. Banner hands you each a worksheet.

* Oh right the onion cell worksheet. Ah right the mitosis crap. Well hopefully Mike remembers enough that you both can hobble through

* “New year means new seating arrangement!” He tells you both excitedly. The seating arrangements on the projector.

* “Why am I next to Edward isn’t the seating arrangement supposed to be alphabetical?”

* “I decided to go by grade this time, you should be happy! Aren’t you two...friends?” You can tell your teacher is confused by the nature of your relationship, almost as much as you are.

* “Super happy Teach.” You mumble taking your seat next to Edward who’s grinning like an idiot

* “You can’t say he’s picking favorites when it’s merit based.” He grins and you roll your eyes

* Angela’s sitting next to Ben Cheney, they seem to be discussing the trigonometry homework, and how it’s basically impossible

* Oh right, he’s supposed to be her boyfriend this year.

* Personally you think Angela could do way better. But love is blind, you’ll ship it if you have to.

* And right on cue Mike walks in, Bella following close behind. He takes his seat on the table behind you while Bella talks to Mr. Barnes

* “Why didn’t you guys sit with us at lunch today?” Mike is practically leaned over the entire width of the table.

* Before you can say anything Edward snorts

* “Because (Y/N) was getting lectured for staying out all night again”

* Mike looks like his eyes might pop out of his head

* “W-what? Out all night?! Without inviting me!” You roll your eyes.

* “He’s making it more dramatic, I went out for a run early in the morning because I couldn’t sleep and everyone was freaking out because they thought I got kidnapped.”

* Like any vampire or human stood a chance against you and your violent mood swings

* Mike’s so caught up in lecturing you about how you need to be more careful

* “There’s a lot of weirdos out there!” Yeah you live with them

* That he doesn’t even notice Bella’s taken a seat next to him

* Now that you get a better look at her, she is kinda pretty. She’s the kind of person who probably always looks good in photographs, no matter what the angle. Nice cheekbones and big brown eyes. Modest on boobs and butt, but she’s skinny so it works for her.

* “Hey, you’re Bella right?” You give her your friendliest smile, and you don’t miss the light blush that blooms on her face.

* You’re not sure whether it’s from your beauty or because she’s just not used to so much attention. She just nods.

* “Have you already seen the three whole things there are to do in Town on a Friday night?”

* Bella actually laughs at that. She’s got dimples, and little wrinkles that show up at the corner of her eyes. It’s cute.

* “One of those things is going to the library, so really it’s only two things.”

* She giggles again.

* “Is the other one going over to your house to play monopoly?” Mike asks, a grin arching onto his face

* “No my house is out of town, the other thing is to go to the school football game”

* “I’m not really a big fan of football” Bella hesitantly says, and Mike and Edward laugh

* “Yeah no one here does, everyone goes for the half time show, or just to hang out.”

* You’re pretty sure your entire friend group only goes to the games to see your cheer routine, especially this year since you’re captain now. The first junior captain in a long time apparently. The news actually made the local newspaper.

* Everything is going good, and you’re starting to think maybe you and Bella might be friends.

* “Why don’t we have a board game night at our house again? Last time was-“

* You stop sentence, you were having so much fun you almost forgot why Edward was so obsessed with Bella.

* The slight breeze from the air conditioning brings her scent to you.

* You cover your mouth and nose with your hand

* Her scent is REVOLTING

* “(Y/N), are you okay?” Mike asks

* You vaguely feel Edward’s hand on your shoulder, has he not caught her scent yet?

* It’s pretty hard to miss

* Like gym socks, with a overly sweet base, it’s like-

* Your head snaps up, and your hand clamps over your mouth and nose even harder, but not because the scent is revolting

* She smells like cheese, perfectly aged Gorgonzola cheese, or maybe Brie?

* You smell the sweeter undercurrent stronger now, it’s like warm juicy peaches

* Roasted peach salad tossed with Gorgonzola and olive oil

* How many times have you dreamed about eating that while basking in the warm sunlight

* “I knew you shouldn’t have eaten those leftovers at lunch,” Edward says, but you know it’s performative, thank god he’s still got some sense after smelling her.

* “Mr.Banner, I think (Y/N) ate something bad, is it alright if I help them to the nurses office?”

* “Yes and hurry!” He’s practically shooing you out as Edward pulls you by the arm

* Nooooo, you wanna smell her moreeee

* You have the sense to not wine and keep your mouth covered.

* Edward doesn’t take you to the nurse, you both don’t stop walking until you’re at the parking lot

* “What the hell was that?” He asks, it’s the first time he’s seemed even remotely angry with you

* He seems more confused then angry though, you’re so shocked you actually sit down on the curb.

* And after a moment of hesitance Edward sits beside you, placing his hand over your own

* “She smells good Edward, like really good.”

* Edward laughs

* “Yeah I gathered that” he shakes his head. “I thought you were supposed to be a picky eater”

* “I aaaaamm” you moan, your head is cradled in your left hand. “She’s like one in a million”

* “You’re one in a million” you lift your head to see Edward looking at you with that stupid sh*t eating grin.

* “Really Edward my life is falling apart because I want to eat someone, and you think the appropriate response is to flirt?”

* To be fair, he’s always flirting, it’s basically apart of his personality at this point

* “You’re being melodramatic.” He chuckles and throws an arm over your shoulder. “Worst case scenario you kill her, Carlisle doles out his funeral punishment-don’t ask, and then we have to start over as freshman again somewhere else.”

* You groan, you finally worked your way up to a junior, you were just starting to get used to this crappy town, you don’t wanna start all over again in a new one

* “What’s the best case scenario?”

* Edward thinks hard for a minute.

* “Best case scenario...the music teacher agrees to teach me how to play the violin and I impress you with my magnificent playing.” You smack him on the arm.

* “Not the best case scenario for you!” You know he’s doing it on purpose. He just wants to make you laugh

* It works, you do laugh. How much more absurd could this situation get?

* “Everything’s going to be fine, if Jasper can handle having to smell 300 students he thinks smell good, you can handle 1.”

* He’s got a point

* “Wait-didn’t she smell good to you?” Wasn’t that like, the whole d*mn point?

* His eyebrows thread together and he shrugs

* “Um, she smelled alright, no better or worse than the others. I’m not sure what you smelled-“

* What you smelled? The rich but refreshing flavor profile is sublime

* The f*cking heathen doesn’t even know what he’s missing

* “But to me she smelled like peaches”

* Well he kinda knows what he’s missing

* “She’s definitely anemic though, there’s a sever lack of iron in her scent” ah that must be that cheesy smell you’re getting

* Well ain’t this ironic. The girl who’s going to steal your best friend is only getting noticed because of you.

* “I don’t know, personally I prefer Henrietta the 3rds blood, but that’s just me” he’s lying, your blood is good and all, but it’s definitely still not on par with a humans blood

* He’s just trying to make you feel better.

* He rubs your shoulder, before patting it and moving to stand up.

* “Now come on, we have to make you eat some human food so you can throw up in front of the nurse and she lets us leave school early”

* You roll your eyes, anything to leave school early huh?

* “Yeah all right, lead the way Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Brooding”

* “Why do you always say that? I don’t brood that much anymore!”

* “You know how some people have resting b*tch face? You have resting brood face.”

* “Says the person who literally radiates despair” you shove him as you both walk towards the vending machine

* You take a deep breath as you watch Edward fumble with the vending machine

* The dork literally sticks a credit card up to the glass and demands the machine give him chips.

* (Y/N/N) why isn’t this working? Am I supposed to insert my card through this slot?”

* You laugh. You’re pretty sure he’s not doing this on purpose.

* “You’re supposed to use cash Edward.”

* You watch as he fumbles with his wallet muttering:

* “Do you think it’ll take a twenty dollar bill?”

* You watch in amusement as Edward tries - and fails- to use a twenty dollar bill, and then proceed to use obscure profanities to curse “this vile wretch of human technological advancement”

* You feel a sigh of relief escape you.

* Yeah, everything is going to be fine.

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @xxxmuxxx @puritanicalhypocrite

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #twilight reader insert #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #emmett cullen x rosalie hale #carlisle cullen #jessica stanley #angela weber #jessica stanley x reader #bella swan #bella swan x reader #superhero--imagines

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my-darling-luna · 3 years

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Your Majesty Chapter 4

I try to make my stories as inclusive as possible!! Let me know if there is something that I can change/add to make things better!! I love you!!

Your Majesty Masterlist

Summary- It has been more than a decade since the Kingdom of Ultron lost their princess. (Y/n) was just a 17 year old that didn’t know much about her past. Realizations happen and lives are crossed. How will (Y/n) handle the new pressure?

Stucky x reader

“(Y/n) this is King T’Challa.” Tony motioned his daughter to move closer to the king. She curtsied before speaking to him.

“It’s great to finally meet you.” She watched as he bowed to her.

“I can say the same about you. I’ve heard a lot about you in the past few weeks.” (Y/n) blushed out of nervousness and looked out the corner of her eye for some moral support, but she found nothing. Her father probably went to go mingle while leaving (Y/n) alone with a person she barely knew.

“Yes well I’ll admit that it has been a crazy week.” She laughed under her breath. King T’Challa smiled kindly.

“I bet-” he was cut off by a woman whispering in his ear. His eyes never strayed from (Y/n), however, his mind clearly did as he listened intently, “thank you, Nakia. I’m sorry (Y/n), I’d love to talk to you later, but I must attend to something.”

“It’s no issue, it was great meeting you.” He nodded before turning around and following Nakia out of the ballroom. (Y/n) stood quietly off to the side while fiddling with her thumbs (a nervous habit that her teacher has tried to get out of her because it ‘doesn’t look royal’, but has so far failed). Huffing, she turned on her heel and walked to the other side of the ballroom and slipped out a side door that was only for the servants to exit and enter. It led to the garden, a fact that she learned the first day of her being in this huge castle. Walking down the corridor, she opened the outside door and began to wander the fresh smelling flowers.

(Y/n)’s fingers ruffled the petals of a tiger lily before moving onto the white roses. “You could get killed being out here.” She turned around quickly to see two men standing on the edge of the flower beds.

“You say it like it’s something to be afraid of.” (Y/n) responded to the man with brown hair and blue eyes. Both of them quirked their eye brows in a similar way.

“And you’re not?” The blonde haired man asked.

(Y/n) shook her head. “There is nothing I feel like I should be afraid of. No pain, physical or mental? Seems as though it would be a good deal.” The first man shrugged before moving closer to (Y/n).

“It’s great to meet you, princess.” He took (Y/n)’s hand in his and kissed the back of it. “My name is Bucky.” (Y/n) smiled queasily before pulling away and tucking her hand in the grasp of her other.

“It’s great to meet you too. You’re the Duke of-” She was cut off by the blonde man which left a bad taste in her mouth. She hated being cut off, especially by someone that she just met.

“Brooklyn, and I am Steve, the King.” He bowed to the girl in front of him and his smile fell at the small nod she gave to him.

“Pleasure.” Her voice had a hint of distaste to it. “I must be going. It was wonderful to meet you both.” They nodded and that was (Y/n)’s cue to leave, practically running to the door.

“Where were you?” Tony asked, pulling (Y/n) in for a quick kiss on the forehead.

“I went for a walk, it was feeling stuffy in here.” Tony opened his mouth to scold her, but he was cut off by a booming voice.

“Stark! It is so good to see you.” (Y/n) turned around to see another blonde haired man in front of her, but this man had longer hair than Steve and also sported a beard. (Y/n) watched with interest aimed at the man as he hugged her father. “This must be Lady (Y/n)!” He bows to her kindly before motioning to her father. “How has it been living with a man as snarky as him?” Tony shook his head before pushing the man’s hand off his shoulder.

“(Y/n) this is Thor. He’s the King of Asgard.”

“It’s great to meet you,” (Y/n) felt tired of saying the same thing over and over again to all of the Kings, Queens, and other nobles as she had been all night, “and yes, my father is quite a challenge.” She teased and Tony stuck out his tongue at her.

“I can tell.” He looked around for a second like he was assessing the room. “Would you like to dance with me?” (Y/n) nodded, excited to know more about Thor.

***

They danced for three songs all while talking and laughing about memories and stories of those back in Asgard. (Y/n) loved the stories about his younger (adopted) brother named Loki and the constant tricks and pranks that he pulled on all people.

“You will have to come meet him sometime, Lady (Y/n).” She nodded excitedly, laughing as Thor spun her out and pulled her in close.

“I would love that.” She answered, talking a bit louder than usual because of the noise of the ballroom. The music decrescendoed and clapping once again filled the ballroom. Everyone watched as the King of Ultron stepped up and began speaking.

“I thank you all for coming and celebrating the return of my first daughter,” everyone turned to face (Y/n) and clapped, making her shy away from the attention slightly, “now as the night winds down, I’d love to do some dances that trace back generations, so come dance and if you don’t want to, get out.” Laughter started up, but it was anxious as no one knew if he joking or not. The band immediately started playing an upbeat tune once Tony got off the stage. (Y/n) squealed with happiness before grabbing Thor’s hand and dragging him to the big circle that was made in the middle of the ballroom.

“I love this dance!” She grasped Thor’s hand in her right and another man’s on her left that she didn’t recognize. “This was the first dance I was taught by my teacher when I got here.” Thor’s eyes twinkled as everyone grabbed hands and began walking four steps in then four steps out.

“I was only taught this a week before I came, so forgive me if I’m rusty.” (Y/n) shook her head and laughed as everyone broke off into twos and began dancing.

“I thought you’ve been friends with my father for a long time? Why are you just now doing this dance?” He picked her up by the waist and spun her before bringing her back to solid ground.

“I’ve never been able to make a party like this before, usually my parents would come instead.” Thor flinched at his own words and (Y/n) knew not to pry anymore. (Y/n) split off again with the rest of the women and moved to the next man that they had not danced with yet.

“What a pleasure to meet you, princess. Name is Brock Rumlow.”

“Wonderful.” Her tone was flat and she was spun again into the next person’s arms.

“(Y/n).” Steve said, a smile growing on his face as he held onto her waist with his hand.

“Your majesty.” She said plainly and his smile fell.

“Look, I’m sorry for interrupting yo-” she was spun again, this time into Bucky’s arms. He held her closer than Steve, his arm going fully around her waist to pull her chest-to-chest.

“Does your friend ever not interrupt people?” Bucky laughed and shook his head. (Y/n) felt the heat in her stomach grow a tiny bit before completing disappearing.

“I can’t say I’ve known when he does. However, I know that he does it when he’s excited and he did seem jumpy to meet you.” (Y/n) looked over to Steve who was spinning a girl with blonde hair in his arms. The band slowed down and once the last of the strings stopped, everyone else followed. People clapped to the band before starting to leave in groups.

“(Y/n)?” Tony called and she turned around. “I have invited the kings and their families from neighboring to stay here for a while.” (Y/n) knew the deeper meaning in that sentence. They were staying here because of the threat that Hydra made. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” He kissed her forehead and patted the back of her head while staring straight at the two men who were standing too close to her in his opinion.

“Dad, just leave.” She jokingly pushed him away and he looked insulted before rolling his eyes. “I can bring them to their rooms.”

“They’re in the visitor’s wing.”

“I know, stop worrying.” Tony gave one more look at the two men before turning around to join Thor and T’Challa along with their families.

“Let’s go.” She nodded towards the open door before walking through and down the corridor. Bucky and Steve ran after her and waited until they caught up to begin talking.

“I really am sorry.” Steve said and (Y/n) watched as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

She shook her head. “It’s whatever...just don’t do it again please.” Steve nodded and the three took a left and then a right to end up in the visitor’s hall. “Lisa?” An older woman turned around and smiled when she saw (Y/n).

“What can I do for you, dear?” (Y/n) smiled.

“Can you tell me where Steve and Bucky are supposed to be?” Lisa nodded.

“Second and third doors to your right, miss.”

“Thank you.” The woman nodded and walked down the hallway.

“Here we are.” (Y/n) nodded towards the direction of the doors.

“Thank you.” She shook her head at Steve’s words.

“Can we see you tomorrow?” Bucky asked, holding his door open slightly.

“You don’t have any meetings with my father and the rest of the kings?” (Y/n) teased and both Steve’s and Bucky’s eyes widened.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky suddenly got nervous.

“I’m not stupid, boys. So what time?”

“4:00.” Steve was the first to give up. Interesting.

“Do you both know how to ride?” They nodded. “Well how about we go riding after breakfast?” The two nodded again. “Great. Good night.” She began walking off.

“Wait,” Bucky yelled, “shouldn’t we be walking you back?”

“I’ve never been one for the traditions.” (Y/n) said simply and began walking once again. Two doors shut behind her.

—

Taglist- @austynparksandpizza @aikeia @simplyfandomish @baby-noodles @lili-ann-love @rebloggingeverything @spookyparadisesheep

#x stark!reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fantasy #magic #fluff #love #bucky barnes #stucky x reader #stark reader #stucky #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #steve x bucky #au #royalty #royal

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thatcartoonnetworkblog · 3 years

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Comic Review: Cartoon Network Presents #6

I said I was gonna do this, so let’s get this rolling!

Okay, so Cartoon Network Presents was among the first lineup of DC’s CN comics, alongside their Scooby-Doo book and The Flintstones and the Jetsons. Those are pretty self-explanatory, but CN Presents was meant to be a grab bag of the rest of their lineup, featuring favorites from the vast Hanna-Barbera library as well as some of their recent hits. At this point, I believe they were just doing Dexter’s Lab and Cow & Chicken, as Johnny Bravo’s first season was more or less written off as a failure at the time. But don’t worry, Johnny will have his day.

Okay, so confession time- this story is not new to me. Way back when, DC released a freebie comic which had stories from each of their three CN titles, and this was featured in there, alongside a short Scooby story where a stalker keeps on doning a costume to get closer to Daphne, and a Jetsons story where George is replaced by a robot version of himself. Needless to say, some serious memories came crawling back to me when I saw the cover.

Anyway, both of the stories featured in this issue are done by regulars in the comic industry, and I’ll bring up how apparent that is in a bit,

That said, I can see this story actually fit in an episode of Cow & Chicken, as it’s a cautionary tale that doesn’t go in the usual direction you’d expect, like many of David Feiss’ cartoons tend to do things. This starts off with Chicken littering, which goes against what his and Cow’s teacher taught them in school. Chicken, as per usual, is apathetic to his loud teacher’s learnings, but he changes his tune when Cow mentions that bringing in metal can bring you some change,

Needless to say, Chicken has some ideas, and he starts scourging around town. There’s a slight detour when he learns that you only receive payments from going to the trash collector directly, but it gives him incentive to have Flem and Earl help him out.

Alongside a dubious reading of Malcolm X’s philosophy.

The three of them find enough metal to hopefully make them a little richer, and they’re greeted at the trash heep by a weird looking Cerberus creature, and guess who they belong to!

Yeah, it’s the Red Guy. It’s not a Cow & Chicken segment without him, is it?

I had a better screenshot of his appearance, but it came out weird and I don’t feel like taking another, so let’s skip to this part where Chicken is caught cheating the scale, and is about to be rightfully punished along with Flem and Earl. Not by death, but by filling up the Red Guy’s furnace, which is actually pretty fair.

But have no fear, Supercow is on the way to come save the day! This comic even translates her dialogue for us, which the show never did.

It ends with her beating the shit out of Cerberus and the Red Guy, even though Chicken deserves his punishment. Flem and Earl, not so much.

It’s a fun enough story, and it does seem like a perfect fit for the show. The dialogue fits right in with the show.

Even Flem’s awkward, vaguely racist broken English. I’m not touching that one...

The art style is a little off, though, looking more like a regular DC comic than an episode of Cow & Chicken.

I mean, it looks like Chicken, but doesn’t the penciling look closer to an issue of Robin at the time instead of something? But it’s a minor complaint, as it’s still a fun read.

The b story is new to me, with a Quick Draw McGraw story. It starts off pretty ordinary, as El Kabong OLE’s himself to save the day. Er, not that ordinary, as El Kabong is a bit of a klutz and usually needs Baba Looey’s help, but it’s okay, something’s about to change.

It turns out that El Kabong’s identity may be liable for copyright infringement, as there’s a Canadian crime fighter known as Le Kabong.

We meet him here, and I believe he’s meant to be Loopy de Loop, but he looks more like Hokey Wolf... or maybe Mr. Jinx. Hanna-Barbeta made some nice-looking characters, but they get pretty samey.

Anyway, his agency was the one who ordered a cease and desist to El Kabong, while his French Canadian doppelganger refuses to follow suit, considering it unheroic. Until it’s discovered that someone kidnapped the local hockey team, and he takes action... so I guess he blames the devil we know? That isn’t really explained, as the next panel shows Quick Straw accepting a battle of the Kabongs.

So we’re about to get a WWE (or I guess WWF. Or maybe WCW?) match, until a new challenger approaches, with a German vigilante jumping in.

And then many more. This switches from wrestling to Super Smash Bros to a full on battle royale of the localized knock-offs. Which I won’t lie, it’s a pretty funny idea.

Luckily, what’s a Kabong without a trusty sidekick to save the day? A few of them attempt to team up to find a way to put a stop to this, including one who looks like Boo Boo with Yogi’s hat and Johnny Bravo’s glasses.

So it ends with the Kabong from Mars (no Spiders) threatening all of the puny humans to stop their shenanigans, and go back to their duties. Which hey, it works! And the story ends with Quick Draw attempting to turn the ten million pesos El Kabong received at the beginning from saving the day into cash. Except pesos are basically useless, which is funny haha right?

This reads like a Hanna-Barbera writer from the 90′s attempting to write a classic character in the present day, and mostly works alright. This does show off one problem with Quick Draw though, that its take on Hispanic culture during the period of the Wild West is problematic. Baba Looey for instance has an exaggerated voice, and he probably needs an overhaul to work today (how did that work in Jellystone btw? I still need to see it). And unfortunately, this point in the late 90′s isn’t all that much more sympathetic to Hispanic culture, as their take mostly stays the same.

But away from that, it’s pretty funny. I do really like Quick Draw when it focuses on how pathetic he is as a supposed hero, either with or without the El Kabong persona.

But I wouldn’t have known if this was in if I didn’t pick up the book. I do understand why Cow & Chicken was the main attraction- *insert Malcolm in the Middle “future is now, old man” img here*- but part of the appeal of Cartoon Network at the time was the mix of old and new school. It wasn’t uncommon to see a classic like Quick Draw next to a modern fav like Cow & Chicken.

But oh well, let’s finish this up. The letters column features a 12 year old offering some of his cartoon ideas- I hope John made it; another boy named John who offers a cute drawing of Space Ghost, and asks about Jan, Jase, and Blip, while insulting the latter, which the editor is not here for; and another boy asking if there are plans for stories featuring 2 Stupid Dogs or Secret Squirrel, as well as hopes for a Cow & Chicken comic. The editor shoots down 2 Stupid Dogs happening, and to be fair, I don’t believe that ever happens. Classic cartoons from 40 years earlier? Sure. Something that ended about five years earlier? Old news. But I do believe Secret Squirrel does show up at some point.

The editor then bemoans how no girls brought in letters this month, and offers a preview of the next issue, which involves Wacky Races. And guess what, I have that one too!

The issue proper ends with an editorial about the importance of recycling, which is fine and all, but my reaction to reading this was “blahblahblah put on more cartoons”

Not bad! Oh, and one more thing of note.

I know, I know, they’re the enemy, and I was all over CN at this point, but I have memories of this promotion. Even though I believe it was long over at this point, and Alex Mack should have aired its last episodes before this issue hit stands.

Here’s an ad! And now it’s in your head. Sorry/you’re welcome!

#cartoon network #cartoon network presents #cow and chicken #quick draw mcgraw #comic reviews #merch

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alj4890 · 3 years

Text

Delicate

(Ethan Ramsey x Olivia Nevarkis) (Olivia Nevarkis x Drake Walker) in a Choices The Royal Romance/Open Heart Crackship Series

A/N This is the finale to this miniseries. Thanks so much for indulging me in this crackship of mine. Hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did imagining it💗

@jooous @krsnlove @nomadics-stuff @twinkleallnight @motorcitymademadame

Masterlist

Part 6

December 30th, Cordonia's Royal Palace...

Tomorrow night’s event might be the first ball in the history of Drake's years in Cordonia to actually cause a certain excitement. He usually put up with the pomp and traditions to simply be with those he cared about. For years it was to support Liam, then going meant he could hang out with Riley, Hana, and Maxwell.

And then there were his activities down in secret for a year with Olivia.

He knew she would be arriving soon. Her absence from Cordonia had been one he felt more acutely than any other. His failure in telling her how he felt about her, his inability to have a civil conversation, even his voicemail had kept him fixated on this date.

He intended for this new year to involve a new relationship with Olivia. He simply needed to find a moment alone with her.

Which as he entered the drawing room Riley and Liam used frequently for their closest friends, he realized that was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. All their friends had come home for the ball.

"I can't believe they gave us that ridiculous moniker." Thomas shook his head.

"The press isn't always known for their intelligence." Liam said, fighting a smile.

"Thomanda." Amanda laughed just saying it. "It sounds like some weird foot fungus cream."

"The press have had five years to come up with anything better than that." Thomas wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders. "They should have combined our last names. Brunt is more tolerable than Thomanda."

Maxwell rolled off the couch laughing. "We now have to come up with crazy couple names for all of us."

"We were given Riam." Riley replied. "Personally I prefer Liley, but Riam stuck."

"Naxwell or Madia." Amanda said between giggles while pointing at Maxwell and Nadia. "That's your couple name."

"Naxwell sounds like a snack cake or cookie." Riley added with a chuckle.

"We are sweet." Maxwell responded, cuddling Nadia close.

Hana sighed at seeing them all so happy together. "What would mine and Rashad's be?"

"Rashana?" Riley offered.

"Oh I like that so much better than what I thought." Amanda laughed. "I at first thought Hahad."

The group burst into laughter while more couple names were bandied about.

"So what do we dub Olivia and Ethan?" Liam asked.

"Ethalivia?" Hana offered.

"Olithan?" Maxwell added.

"Oooh! Olithan!" Riley exclaimed. "Sounds like a sea monster. Olivia will love it!"

Drake tried to ignore what was being said as he joined them.

Maxwell noticed his frown and immediately changed the subject.

"Hey," he said over the lingering chuckles. "What's everyone's resolutions going to be?"

"Get married." Rashad grinned at Hana.

"That's your plans for next week." Maxwell winked at them. "What are you going to resolve to do this new year?"

"Spend time with my husband." Hana replied with a slight blush.

"I think more time with our significant others is what we will all resolve to do." Liam added.

Drake bit back a bitter retort. At least they knew they would have their significant others. He was praying for a chance to talk to his.

********************

Olivia stood in front of the mirror one last time to check her reflection. It was strange to see the same old features once more in the all too familiar guest room when she felt so changed. Stepping off the plane and seeing Cordonia's capital didn't affect her like it once did. Somewhere, somehow, she had moved on past the pride of her title and country.

She still loved her home, but she now knew she was capable of so much more than merely being the Duchess of Lythikos. She wondered if the changes would be visible to anyone else. If no one noticed it, she at least had proved it to herself.

Her gaze left her reflection to focus on Ethan finishing dressing. Her lips curved at the red shirt he had pulled on with his black slacks.

She wondered if he knew he had chosen to wear her house colors.

He glanced up and noticed her staring.

"Is this the wrong thing to wear to dinner tonight?" He asked.

"No." She walked over to him.

Ethan paused in buttoning his shirt when she looped her arms around his neck.

"What made you choose this shirt?" She asked, threading her fingers in his hair.

His lips curved as they brushed her cheek. "Thomas told me about ways we men can show our support for our noble ladies." He tugged her closer. "I thought I should start out as I intend to for my fiancée."

Olivia cupped his cheek with her left hand, her eyes darting toward the sparkling proof that she was marrying the man that held her. Their lips met in a tender kiss that made her want to forget about joining anyone else and simply stay here alone with him.

"Shouldn't we hurry?" Ethan asked when she began to toy with the buttons of his shirt.

His hands moved along her back, searching for her zipper.

"We should." She pressed another kiss to his lips before easing back.

Her smile was warm as she admired him. "Red is a good color on you."

"As long as you approve." He finished buttoning his shirt.

Olivia handed him his tie he had set out earlier.

He looped it around her waist and used it to pull her close.

"Doctor?" She chided. "You have a king and queen waiting to welcome you."

"I think you know who I think deserves my attention." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Are we telling everyone tonight?"

"About our engagement?" Olivia asked.

Ethan nodded. "I want you to have all the excitement and whatever they do here to celebrate when a duchess gets engaged."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't need a ball, Ethan."

Her heart softened once more when he whispered he wanted to give her everything she deserved.

"We can tell them," her breath hitched when she felt his mouth against that special spot under her ear, "if you want to."

"I want to." He muttered against her skin. "I want everyone to know we are together." He lifted his head and smiled at her. "I want them to see how proud I am that you chose me to marry."

"Ethan." Her frown firmed. "Don't you dare make me emotional right now when I'm about to see everyone."

He chuckled as he let her go. "Very well, duchess. I'll behave."

She hmphed while returning to the mirror to retouch her lipstick.

Once they were both deemed presentable, they left their chambers and gathered Naveen to take downstairs.

****************

While the buzz of conversations filled the room, Drake escaped to the wet bar.

"Would you mind pouring me a glass of the Pinot Noir?" Regina asked, joining him.

"Yes mam."

She cleared her throat. "Sir Drake, I--"

"Just Drake, mam." He reminded her.

She smiled at his insistence she not use any honorific. "Drake, is something wrong?"

He handed her a wine glass. "No mam." He poured the wine for her. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem a touch distracted."

"I do?"

She chuckled. "Yes. Usually by this time you would have called a halt to all the talk of weddings and romantic, as you call it, nonsense."

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "I guess I've been tuning them out tonight."

"I see." She patted his arm. "I'll leave you to your thoughts then."

He straightened up when Olivia stepped into the room, flanked by Ethan and the other doctor Drake had yet to meet.

The older of the two men had a friendly smile on his face that disappeared when he saw Regina.

"Gin?" Delight flooded his surprised facial expression. "Is it really you?"

Everyone looked back and forth between the Queen Mother and Naveen.

"Did he just call Regina, Gin?" Riley whispered.

"I've never heard anyone call her that." Liam whispered back.

Regina had her hand pressed to her heart. "Naveen! You're the Dr. Banerji Lady Olivia talked about?!"

Naveen met her in the middle of the room, his hands taking hers.

"What is going on?" Olivia whispered.

"I haven't got a clue." Ethan whispered back. "Naveen did a fellowship here when he was fresh out of medical school. Maybe, the two met during that time."

"It seems they did more than meet." Olivia pointed out.

"After all these years," Naveen said, "You are still just as beautiful as when we met."

Regina's blush and almost girlish laughter made everyone eager to hear more.

"We both know that is not true." Regina replied with an elegant wave of dismissal.

Naveen's smile grew when he felt her squeeze his hand.

Remembering their audience, the two let go of one another.

"You two know each other?" Riley asked, loving their flustered states.

"We met when I first came to Cordonia." Naveen explained. His gaze softened on the Queen Mother. "I didn't know my way around and had gotten horribly lost when a lovely young woman pulled up in a convertible and took pity on me."

"In a convertible, huh?" Maxwell was already imagining a young Regina with her blonde hair blowing in the breeze as she pulled over to help a young, handsome doctor. "Then what happened?"

Regina's blush grew. "I offered to drive him back to the house he had rented and one thing led to another and we--"

"I begged her to be my tour guide during my stay." Naveen explained to keep her from having to reveal too much. "It ended up being the best summer of my life."

She shook her head while smiling. "It was the last time I was ever able to be free to do and act as I wanted."

"What happened, mam, that changed all that?" Hana asked. "

"My first official social season began that fall. Adelaide was being courted by Godfrey and my parents insisted I do all I could to put our family in the best light possible so that an arrangement could be made between the two." A brief sadness passed over her. "Once that started, I was sent from one house party to the next then began a tour through Europe on diplomatic endeavors. Before I knew it, two years had gone by and Naveen had left Cordonia by the time I returned."

The older doctor grimaced. "I had been accepted to Edenbrook and was unable to find Gin to tell her."

Ethan quietly studied Naveen, wondering if this was why his mentor had never married.

"Well, now you two can catch up," Nadia encouraged. "Without worry of having to part."

Regina didn't bother to hide her happiness at that thought. "I would love that."

"So would I." Naveen added.

******************

Once all the introductions were made, the group fell into smaller ones to talk.

Keeping mostly to himself on the other side of the room, Drake couldn't take his eyes off Olivia. She seemed so different than the last time she had been in Cordonia. Not just in appearance, but there was something else there he couldn't quite identify.

She had left her hair down in loose curls. He couldn't recall when he had seen her do that here. He had once heard her say that her hair down could be used against her if an enemy were to attack.

She must have lost that worry.

Olivia almost appeared more approachable. Her smirk didn't hold the same bite it used to. She listened without too much sarcasm to the conversations going on around her.

She looks soft.

Drake took another gulp of his drink. Where had that thought come from? Olivia Nevarkis was many things, but soft? Impossible.

He noticed that Ethan remained close to her. The little touches going on between them irritated Drake. Ethan would occasionally touch her back when turning to say something to her. Olivia would respond in kind. He would brush a lock of hair over her shoulder. She would place her hand on his arm when pointing out something.

All innocent, yet all given with hidden meanings.

The smiles they shared. The heated glances. The--

A sparkle on Olivia's hand caught his attention.

No, it can't be--

"I have an announcement." Olivia raised her voice. "I wanted you all to be the first ones to know."

Drake felt his insides go numb as if his body knew the pain that was about to happen and wanted to try and spare him.

"Ethan asked me to marry him." Olivia looked up at her doctor. Her smile, so unlike any in Cordonia had seen, was tender and full of affection. "And I said, yes."

Everyone spoke at once their delight and rushed to hug and congratulate the couple.

All that is except Drake.

His empty glass slipped through his fingers and thudded softly on the floor.

Did she listen to my message? Did she decide to not give me a chance to apologize in person? Why would she choose him without first seeing what we could have?

Maxwell slipped away from the laughter and teasing of Team Olithan. Swiping up his friend's glass, he placed an arm along Drake's shoulders and led him back to the bar.

"She didn't give me a chance." He muttered to Maxwell. "I told her I wanted to try and she instead picks that doctor. She didn't bother to even say she didn't want me."

Maxwell poured him a strong one and handed it off. "I know." He sighed softly. "I'm sorry, Drake."

Drake downed the contents, poured another, then after it was gone he drank one more that was filled to the brim. "Don't be." He slammed the empty glass down. "If you have to feel sorry for anyone, feel it for Ramsey." He jerked his chin toward the couple. "He's the one stuck with her."

"Drake, I think you should still try to talk--"

"No thanks." Drake snapped. "What’s left to say?" He shrugged. "I dodged a bullet."

Maxwell gave up arguing. He didn't know what to do as Drake became angrier.

"Better go give my congratulations." He grumbled while making his way across the room.

"We'll announce your engagement at the ball." Liam told the couple. He pressed a kiss to Olivia's cheek and shook Ethan's hand. "May you both find the same happiness I found with Riley."

"I need details!" Riley exclaimed "When and where did this happen? How did you propose?"

Olivia chuckled. "Ethan asked me at his father's home when we went to spend Christmas there."

"How sweet!" Hana exclaimed. "We can start planning your wedding while we are all together."

Olivia's friends began to talk over one another to give possible opinions of wedding venues and dates for the ceremony.

Only Ethan noticed the tension forming in Olivia's body. He soon saw the reason for it approaching.

"Congratulations." Drake said.

"Thank you." Ethan answered when Olivia instinctively stepped closer to his side. "I'm still surprised she said yes." He smiled down at her.

"You shouldn't be." Olivia told him.

"Liv's right, Ramsey. You shouldn't be surprised. Give yourself another day or two and you'll see why." Drake drawled. "The only thing nobles aspire to around here is marriage."

"Drake." Liam admonished.

"What? Isn't that all that was thumped into your heads as children? Even Hana admitted to being trained from a little girl on up on how to catch a husband." He continued.

Hana's cheeks burned as she averted her eyes from everyone.

"Of course, Olivia wasn't so fortunate when it came to knowing how to catch a husband, was she?" Drake smirked at her. "Her mother died before she could begin the training. Guess it was a good thing she went ahead and married you off to a terrorist, huh?"

"That's enough." Ethan warned. "You're intoxicated and should go to your room and sleep it off."

"Is that your medical opinion, Doc?" Drake narrowed his eyes at him. "Or is it you're worried I'll say something to embarrass you and your --"

"Excuse us." Olivia wrapped her fingers around Drake's arm, making sure to dig her nails into the tender flesh under his arm. "Walker and I need to clear something up."

She yanked him towards a door that led out into a small courtyard.

He wrenched his arm from her once they reached a nearby fountain.

"What in the hell was that?" She snapped.

"What?" He taunted when she merely glared at him. "Couldn't take the truth, Libby? Or are you worried that your doc can't?"

"In there," she hissed, "is the man who actually defended you to me after our last fight."

"Did he?" Drake folded his arms. "How endearing."

"Ethan is the man I want." She stated. "Whether you can accept that or not is your problem. It is not going to be mine!" Her narrowed eyes held his own. "I personally don't know if you and I can be friends after everything that has happened. I was going to try and at least be pleasant around you, but your little act in there has made it impossible."

"Who cares?" He muttered. "You didn't care about how I would feel after I ripped my heart out and laid it at your feet just so that you could waltz back home with your new love."

"You already knew my choice!" She shouted. "You saw how much he meant to me in Boston. I told you there was nothing between me and you and yet you stand here and show the world once again what a jackass you are." Her breathing was accelerated as she tried to calm down. "This is why you and I never had a chance. There's too much resentment from years of the two of us fighting."

"There wouldn't be if you had given me a chance." He told her. "Some time to try and be what you wanted. Instead you accept the first marriage proposal you ever got."

"I ACCEPTED BECAUSE I AM IN LOVE WITH ETHAN!" She raised a trembling hand to her head, completely frustrated with his refusal to give up. "He makes me feel a way I never thought possible."

"I don't want to hear about your sex life." Drake snapped.

"I'm not talking about that!" She shoved Drake away from her. "I'm talking about how he makes me feel as if I am the most important person in the world. He actually respects me. Cares about my opinions--"

"Clearly a glutton for punishment." Drake drily remarked.

Olivia gave up trying to explain. Using moves she hadn't had to in her months away, she swept Drake's legs out from under him, sending him tumbling backwards into the water fountain.

His head shot up, coughing and sputtering water out of his mouth and nose. "What the hell was that?!"

"That is the end of this discussion." She stated in a monotone voice. "I'm marrying Ethan. I'm going to have my own happily ever after. I expect you to keep your distance from now on. We might share the same group of friends, but you and I are nothing." Her green eyes flashed a warning. "We aren't friends, acquaintances, or even enemies." She stepped away from him. "Because I respect my enemies, but you, I can't even find the energy to be disgusted with you right now."

"Olivia, wait--" he tried to get out of the fountain and chase after her. "I--"

She walked back inside and quietly shut the door, as if he hadn't been speaking at all.

*****************

The next few months flew by. Hana and Rashad's wedding was deemed the perfect way to start a new year. Cordonia's research hospital had it's ribbon cutting ceremony a week later with both the press and nobles exclaiming over the state of the art facility. Under Naveen, Ethan, and Olivia's management, patients were being treated by some of the best physicians from around the world.

Word soon spread and numerous medical journals did pieces on the findings and styles of treatments given there. In every interview, Ethan gave Olivia the credit for everything that they were accomplishing, reminding the world that it had been her idea in the first place to create such a hospital.

She didn't think she could love him more than she already did until he did that, once more helping heal her Nevarkis reputation. It had been a long time since she had wished for a knight in shining armor to come along and fight for her, and here he was, fighting along the battlefields of the press that she had always felt at a loss over.

While Olivia balanced her duchess duties and those at the hospital, she planned her wedding. Ethan, no matter how exhausted he was, would stay up late giving his opinion on the party size and location. The two became even closer to one another as they discussed their life together, the possibility of children, and the roles they were playing in both the medical society and the nobility.

They decided on an intimate ceremony in one of Lythikos's oldest chapels. Liam was to conduct it, with Olivia requesting Amanda as her matron of honor and a very pregnant Riley and Hana as bridesmaids. The two mothers' to be cried together over the sweetness of it all from the moment they were asked until Ethan kissed his bride.

Ethan asked Naveen to be his best man and Thomas as a groomsman. He and the director had only grown closer in friendship as the ladies they were committed to spent so much time together. Thomas was helping him learn how to balance his future duties of Duke of Lythikos along with his chosen career. He reassured him that he could indeed have it all and be content.

Needing one more groomsman, Ethan left that choice to Olivia. Maxwell volunteered, to help take the pressure off of her, and was soon fitted for a new tux.

Drake never received an invitation.

He had tried to apologize. He even cornered her before she left the palace for Lythikos and managed to sound sincere, but it was no use. She was done with having him in her life. There was no anger. No sadness. Nothing. Just like she had told him.

He knew it was his own fault. All of it was. Somehow he had ruined what could have ended up being the best thing in his life. Seeing how Olivia was in love and knowing it could have been him on the receiving end, it hurt worse than any insult she could ever give.

He should be happy he wasn't invited to the ceremony. It was a mercy, whether she meant it as such or not. Seeing her dressed as a bride and saying her vows to another man would have been beyond his ability to calmly accept.

So he did what anyone would do the day of their love's wedding to another.

He left Cordonia for America.

Drake decided he would stay away for an indefinite period of time. Liam had Riley by his side so he wouldn't feel guilty over abandoning him. All of their friends were happily settled with their significant others. He was finally free to see what his life could be without nobles and putting Liam first.

A few years went by. During this time, babies were born. Drake had sent handmade rocking horses to Hana and Riley when he received the news of their sons' births. He next was picking wedding gifts for Maxwell and Nadia and then, to his great shock, one to Regina and Naveen. More babies were born, including word of Olivia and Ethan having a daughter.

That text from Maxwell had left him feeling a loss be hadn't thought of.

Drake decided to test the waters and start dating again. He thought this would be a chance to see what he really wanted from a potential spouse. Nothing too serious ever came from these attempts, but they did help slowly ease his heartache.

He would get the occasional visit from those he had left back in Cordonia. Phone calls and texts were a normal, everyday occurrence. Then one day, Savannah found out she was pregnant again and asked him to come for a nice long visit to Ramsford.

The moment he stepped off the plane and caught the hint of apple blossoms in the air, he knew this would always be home. He closed his eyes and simply let the feeling wash over him that this was where he was meant to be, where he was always meant to be.

He decided to stop and see Liam and Riley on his way to Ramsford. The couple were with their children at Valtoria along with some of their other friends.

Including Olivia and Ethan.

When Drake stepped out of the car, he could hear the laughter and squeals of young children playing out back. He went down a gravel path lined with lilies, only stopping at the sight before him.

Children, five years old and under, were chasing each other all over an area that would put most playgrounds to shame. Slides, climbing walls, bridges, jungle gyms, everything a child could want covered two acres of land.

He was able to identify most of the children without much thought. He had received tons of pictures through Christmas cards and texts, but he didn't need them to know who belonged to whom.

Liam's two sons with their golden hair shining in the sunlight were easily picked out. The little princes were soon joined by a boy that could only belong to Hana.

He then noticed two little girls that looked exactly like their mothers once had so many years ago. The dark haired one was clearly Thomas and Amanda's. And just like her mother had done at her age, the little girl was playing with another who had the richest set of red hair Drake had ever seen.

The three year old looked like she had been fashioned in Olivia's very image. Even her green eyes could narrow in an all too familiar irritation when the boys' rough housing got too close to where she was playing.

And just like her mother, her smile blossomed when she saw her father walking over.

Ethan leaned down to pick her up. His own smile was bright as he spoke to his daughter.

Whatever was said had the little girl eagerly nodding her agreement.

"Drake?"

He turned to see Olivia staring at him in surprise.

"Hey, Liv." He greeted.

"What are you doing here?"

"Savannah asked me to come for a visit." He explained.

"Ah." She placed her hand on her baby bump when another kick happened. "How have you been?"

"Good." He motioned toward her belly. "Boy or girl?"

"We don't know." She smiled down at her stomach. "Just like with Erin, Ethan and I decided we want to be surprised."

"Congratulations." He said sincerely. "I know you always wanted a family." He looked back toward where her little girl was. "Looks like you and Ethan know what you're doing."

"I think we do." She finally smiled at him.

"I'm happy for you." He managed to say and realized that it was true. If he couldn't be the one she ended up with, at least she had gotten what she wanted most out of life.

"Thank you." She stepped around him and continued toward the play area.

Ethan had been watching for her and began to make his way over to help her down the slope safely. She paused, knowing he would only worry if she tried to go down it on her own.

"Drake?"

"Yes, Olivia?"

"It's good to see you again." She smiled once more at him then went on and took her husband's arm.

Drake watched as Ethan tenderly brushed a kiss to her temple. The two laughed at their daughter having had enough of the boys' antics and chasing after them to give them a piece of of her mind.

As he stood there alone, he realized that though there was a faint echo of what could have been, he was finally able to watch them without it hurting.

#delicate #ethan ramsey x olivia nevarkis #drake x olivia #choices open heart #choices the royal romance #choices crackship #dr ethan ramsey #drake walker #olivia nevrakis

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dottiechan · 3 years

Text

Tempest (Pt. 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Read on AO3

Pairing: Ava Du Mortain x f!Detective

Wordcount: 4048

Warnings: mourning, mentions of death and torture, smoking

Summary: The private detective must work through the sudden and unexpected disappearance of Ava - quite literally, as she embarks on solving her greatest mystery yet. But she is not the only one who's been busy...

A/N: This chapter is a rather long one as there's much to unpack at this point of the story, and there is much to explain. Sorry for the long wait, and thanks for being so patient and supportive of me!

The Private Detective’s Office, London, 1898

5 months after Ava’s disappearance

The key turns in the lock with ease. The door creaks as it gives way to the dark office. The lights flicker in the corridor outside, and the entrance gapes like a mouth ready to swallow her whole.

She steps inside, unaware of her fingers skittering across the glass pane that has the name of her detective agency painted on it. Some have great bloodlines to look back on, and nobles and kings to proudly call their ancestors. Her legacy is this stuffy little office, her sigil is a hand painted business logo. But her ancestor - her father - was a warrior too, noble of heart, even if not of blood.

She hangs her coat and hat, and proceeds to smooth down her hair before locking the door and switching on the lights. The old pieces of furniture that would have been regarded fashionable 20 years ago are dimly illuminated, and the sight of them makes her heart ache. They belonged to her late father, and in a way he lives on through them. The dent in the cushion of his chair where he always used to sit, the scuff marks on his desk he carelessly carved into the polished surface with books and folders, the medical and law tomes he hoarded lining the bookshelves that hug the dark green walls... As a child, she was afraid of coming here in the evenings - something they often did after her mother passed away and her father tried his best to raise her alone. The heavy nailhead leather armchairs looked like hunched monsters in the dark, the looming mahogany desk with its long curving legs resembled a giant spider, and the serious wallpaper enveloped this macabre scene like some sinister forest. “The real monsters are in here, my darling,” her father would ruffle her hair affectionately, pointing at the files he came to pick up.

It is late, but the office no longer feels scary. Her rational mind knows she should have gone home to her empty bed and her unread books and the cold supper awaiting her. And yet she’s here because hardly anything matters anymore. Because no place ever really feels like home ever since her father left. Well, her small house felt like home for a while when she was still here. But she left as well, and with her she took the last tattered shreds of joy the detective had somehow managed to cling to. She is submerged in saturnine reticence now, and ironically it helps her stay focused, even though it makes her more and more like the person she tried to thaw out. More and more like Ava.

One should only embrace the iciness of a statue if they’re willing to risk turning into marble themselves.

The Commissioner would be lucky to have a detective such as myself, she thinks bitterly as she glances down at the neatly kept files piled on her desk. Most are petty cases, even she has to admit - cheating husbands, unanswered invitations and letters, and the likes. But she takes all the work she can, and she prides herself on her ability to solve them with the proficiency of a man. Ava used to praise her for that. Now she whispers praises to herself even if the words turn sour in her mouth, because she will not let anyone ruin her. She will not. (Even though Ava has, because the world feels different without her in it.)

Her sudden disappearance left her on the precipice of panic at first. Ava, along with her partner Nate, simply vanished into thin air as if they never even existed at all, as if they were a pleasant reverie she used to lull herself to sleep at night. No trace, no item that belonged to them was left behind. If not for the spare key to her house being gone - the one she gave to Ava - she wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between reality and her mad suspicions. But oh, she was here. She was. Missing her is a malady burrowed in her heart, but it is also the testament of her existence.

She opens the file on top, and hums in bitter satisfaction. Right. The aching of her heart isn’t the only testament anymore. It took her months, but she’s finally one step closer to the solution, planting her foot firmly and holding her crumbling sanity together with a determination she didn’t know she had. Ava was probably never meant to be in the background of a photograph taken during the opening night of the National Gallery of British Art.

But she was. And it really only takes one mistake.

The private detective picks up the photograph gingerly, giving herself one second to lose herself in the whirlwind of emotions Ava’s angular silhouette awakens in her.

One step closer.

She leans back in her chair, her gaze gliding over the photograph and landing on her personal little project. The blackboard is filled with dates, locations and places with a map pinned to the middle of it - by now, it is practically a blueprint of Ava’s and Nate’s every activity over the past two years. The deeper she digs, the more unknowns she unearths about the people she once thought she knew.

But there’s still time to get to know them - first impressions are overrated anyway.

Train station, Wayhaven, 1899

7 months after Ava’s disappearance

January quickly set to work and changed the countryside. It swooped down from the heavens and gently buried the forests and the hills under a heavy blanket of snow, concealing the detective’s childhood home from her as she exits the train, the handle of her heavy bag already digging into her gloved fingers. The shapes are still visible though underneath all the snow and ice - she sees the old station with the crumbling roof, the road leading into town, the bell tower of the small church peeking out just above the treeline. She recognises them all, though she sorely wishes she didn’t.

Because with the recognition comes the inevitable sting of her memories. Faces emerge in her conscious she hasn’t seen in years. The kindness of her mother’s eyes and the curve of his father’s lips, both lost forever now, never to be seen again, cutting deeper than a knife ever could.

An old woman is prating about her insufferable nephew, a business man is constantly checking his pocket watch with a disdainful look from across the station, three young women gossip, a man is rubbing his hands together in an effort to stimulate his circulation in the cold weather. The detective tunes out the comfortable commotion of the small town station, imagining she is still in London and not here. Anywhere but here. People brush past her, the train whistles and whirs to motion, and before she knows it, she is alone, paralysed in one spot, snowflakes catching softly on her fetching ensemble of a royal blue travelling dress and matching hat.

She takes a shaky breath, almost already on the verge of tears.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

No.

“Of course,” she turns with a slight smile. “Just admiring the view. I used to live here.”

“Ah, then the gossip about you was true,” the man nods, his eyes glinting intelligently under his bushy brows. There’s an apologetic smile sitting on his lips, and a twinge of regret spoiling the beauty of his otherwise handsome square jaw and bold features. “I apologise, I couldn’t help but overhear some women on the train talking about your father. About you.”

“I didn’t know our name carried such weight,” the detective admits cautiously, one hand reaching up to fix her hat self-consciously. The man seems to notice the way her fingers linger over the hat pin, and he almost cracks a grin. It would be a highly inappropriate moment to joke, and besides, he’d rather befriend this interesting person than anger her to a point where he’d end up being skewered by the hat pin in question. After all, her friendship and assistance is why he’s here.

“Your father served in India with Sir Edward Bardford, the current Police Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police,” he adds gently. “You were betrothed to Montagu Edward Bradford.”

“How do you know about that?” the woman asks, her eyes widened by shock as she takes a step closer to him.

“Who didn’t Montagu tell?”

The strained grin the stranger allows himself seems to put her momentarily at ease. Montagu did tell everyone, God rest his soul. In a way, she could never really begrudge him for the betrothal - it was their fathers’ scheming, even if Montagu really didn’t seem to mind. She always wanted a way out, but she never wished for his death. He was in India when it had happened, and she was in London. In a way, even 9 years after, it feels surreal. She never saw the body. For years afterwards, she sincerely thought he would turn up one day unexpectedly as if nothing had happened.

He never did.

“How awfully rude of me to not even introduce myself!” he exclaims suddenly, sheepishly sticking out his hand. “Dr Van Helsing. Abraham Van Helsing.”

“I believe Mont had spoken about you,” she nods as she shakes his hand, deliberately squeezing his fingers with more force than a mere handshake would warrant. Yet another trick she learned from Ava.

“I hope so. We were... we were quite close. I know it’s been a while since he...” Van Helsing pauses as he withdraws his hand and waves it in the air before drawing it up to his ginger curls. “Please accept deepest my condolences.”

“Thank you, Dr Van Helsing.”

Her tone signals the end of the conversation, and she nods her head stiffly before turning. She knew coming back here would unearth the loss of her parents, but she is not ready to speak of Montagu yet. She bared her soul once regarding the matter, and only to one person, but she will not repeat the experience again. As liberating as it had been to tell Ava everything, she wishes to leave this heartache and guilt where it belongs - in the past.

“Please wait. We got off on the wrong foot! I didn’t come here to ask you personal questions - in fact, it is a disappearance that I was hoping to discuss with you.”

“You are a physician, not an inspector, correct?” she asks over her shoulder, not bothering to slow down her steps as she strides towards an unclaimed hansom.

“Yes, but-”

“Are you here to hire me?”

“No-”

“Then we have nothing to talk about, Dr Van Helsing. Good day.”

The driver, smelling a wealthy client who’s just arrived from London, clambers down from his seat quickly to open the door for her to get in. Just before she could disappear inside, the physician speaks again.

“I’m trying to find Miss Ava Du Mortain and Mr Nathaniel Sewell. I was hoping we could help each other out, but more importantly, I was hoping to warn you.”

“Warn me?” the detective pauses, looking back at Van Helsing with genuine shock on her prepossessing features.

“They’re not who you think they are - what you think they are.”

There’s a stretch of silence between them as her eyes assess the tall, lanky man as he stands just before the hansom, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his breath fogging in the chill air as he looks back at her expectantly. The nerve on this man alone is making the private detective want to leave him high and dry in the snow, but her insides twist and her pulse quickens at the mention of Ava’s name. She’s all but given up hope - for months now, she could find nothing regarding the woman and her partner, or the Agency they claimed to work for. She knows virtually nothing about this man, but her need to find Ava outweighs her better judgement.

“Are you hungry, Dr Van Helsing?” she asks, scooting further down the seat to make room for the man.

“Is eating and working on disappearance cases simultaneously a habit of yours, Miss?” the physician asks as he climbs in next to her.

“And here I was trying to be nice. I suppose I will not offer to pay for your lunch then.”

“I take it all back! I am positively famished.”

Meanwhile, across the train station

Lucille Licht twirls her cane, lips pressed into a disdainful frown. Cities at least have crowds upon crowds of people to distract her, but small towns such as Wayhaven hold no entertainment value whatsoever. She isn’t here on pleasant business anyway, she thinks to herself as she sighs, pulling her fur coat tighter around the expensive suit she’s wearing. No, she is here on ghastly business indeed, even by demon standards. But the prophecy was clear - though irritatingly vague too, no doubt to account for the rather large margin of error witches have these days in their prophecies. They’re more lawyers than soothsayers by now, their profession diluted by those who hunger for nothing but profit and security, and who are willing to sacrifice quality for those two aforementioned gains. Lucille finds sordid business such as this distasteful, even in her line of work. Falling from grace is one thing, but living in the Agency’s ever growing shadow is no excuse not to have honour among thieves. Or rogues. Or both, when it comes to the social circles she frequents.

A small voice in the back of her head whispers sadly, poisoning the faux assuredness she’s lulled herself into on the train. She’s just like I was, in a strange way. Before it all happened. And now I’m about to do the same horrible things to her that were done to me.

But the private detective is the one she’s been waiting for. She has to be. It all fits - the dead father, the career, the place where she was born. Lucille can’t smell anything strange about her blood yet, but she is sure she can bring about the power that was promised to reside in her veins. She has her ways, and her old magic, and her knife. And most importantly, her determination.

It was centuries ago, when she was stripped and bound and the curse was carved into her flesh. Strange, how vividly one can remember a single terrible moment, even centuries later. Even though the ancient magic rendered her undead, she can still feel the searing pain all over her body, red lines raging like fire in the form of symbols and Echolian text. It made her immortal, but it also bound her to her creator. He is the reason why she’s on the hunt. Why she is desperate to gain power beyond what she could achieve alone. Even as a human, as a meagre farmer’s child, she was roaming the fields of her father as she pleased. She was free. It was so long ago that she can’t even remember the name her parents gave her, but her freedom she remembers.

And nobody enslaves Lucille Licht and gets away with it.

Her slow burn vendetta must be coming to an end soon. There’s only so much of the supernatural underworld she can bring under her control - what she has will have to suffice. She already runs a widespread rogue organisation, with its key leadership positions held by her loyal Daughters, as she eloquently calls the women she’s bound to her service over the centuries the same way she was bound once. A necessary evil. Pawns in the game she plays with the Ancient One. There is nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure her victory in the coming battle. I will not be outwitted again by that Echolian bastard, she thinks, whacking away at a nearby bush with her cane. Specks of snow and ice glitter where her hits land. And yet she always finds herself hesitating before turning another human.

The abhorred feeling of helplessness always comes creeping back. As well as the pain, and the panic of thinking your life is about to end. She has to push it all down. Grit her teeth and get it over with. Months of preparation leading up to the final act that barely lasts ten minutes. And then you wait, and 3 days later their pain and mortality will be but a distant memory.

But she’s slipping. She no longer only hesitates before, now the intrusive self-doubt catches up to her after the rituals too. The Ancient One is still the centre of her nightmares, but the dream has changed. She is no longer the helpless little lamb brought to the slaughter. She is one with the Ancient One, his hand is hers too as it raises the knife, their voices merging together as they chant the same curse together.

She knew this victory would cost her everything. But she never imagined the real price to pay would be stepping up to fill the void the Ancient One’s death will create.

Lucille never wanted to be like him. She only ever wanted to kill him. But it seems those two things are one and the same.

She awakens from her thoughts when the man joins the private detective in the hansom. An annoying little man, that Dr Van Helsing is, though harmless in the grand scheme of things. It doesn’t matter that he’s taken care of a Transylvanian rogue vampire with his entourage, it would take far more to stop her plans now. Lucille focuses on the woman instead, letting her will force itself into her mind. All too easy, she raises her eyebrows in an unimpressed fashion as she flicks through her thoughts as if she were reading the latest issue of The Times. She thought she would be more difficult to read. To control. But alas, she is just like everyone else, aside from the love that seems to seep out of her every thought for none other than Agent Du Mortain.

She grins, remembering her failed attempt at getting to the private detective earlier. She’s learned several invaluable lessons in those two years. One, you can’t trust dark elf mercenaries, no matter how much you pay them. Two, it’s better to divert the attention of the Agency first before you try to kidnap someone who has important connections in the London Metropolitan Police. Three, love makes people do really, really stupid things.

Thankfully, Lucille Licht is a smart woman, and an even better strategist - not to mention a quite powerful demon with telepathic abilities and her boot firmly planted on the supernatural underground’s neck - and this time, she has learned from all three of her mistakes. This time, there will be no Agent Du Mortain rushing to the rescue. (But that doesn’t mean she can’t use her name as bait, yes?)

Cemetery, Wayhaven, 1900

1 year and 8 months after Ava’s disappearance

He doesn’t appreciate being jerked around the way he has been lately, but he isn’t a man to grumble too much either. He was closest to the backwater little town, he gets to check out the possible supernatural case. Everyone draws the short straw sometimes, and he’s learned to cope with it. He has certainly lived long enough to do so.

The wind shifts, and suddenly Agent Fuller’s nostrils are invaded by the stench of magic. Things finally start looking up for him, and that thought alone is enough to make him pick up his pace, excitement coursing through his body. He lights a cigarette to conceal the smirk threatening to overtake his lips when he sees the pallid looks of the constables as they pass him by. One stops him to ask what his business is out here, but the Agency has already notified the meagre Wayhaven police force, and he is soon on his way again to the centre of the commotion. Cemetery of the commotion would be a more accurate description though - the little town was as dead in the mid-February frost as a place could get, and aside from the bored stationmaster who gave him directions, these men are the first living beings he’s encountered since his arrival.

“Name’s Agent Fuller. What can you tell me about the crime scene, constable?” Fuller asks as he exhales a lungful of smoke, turning to the least disturbed looking man surveying the scene.

“Welcome to the middle of nowhere, sir. Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

A handshake and a suppressed grin later Fuller follows the young man down a row of tombs. They take a sharp turn to the left, and immediately it is clear why he was called here. The sight is confirmation enough, but the smell of potent and ancient magic is the real giveaway.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a walker,” Fuller snorts as he crouches down, picking up a piece of the crumbled marble.

“The poor woman was buried only 3 days ago,” the constable mutters, rubbing his hands together before bringing them to his lips and blowing hot air onto them, desperately attempting to revitalise his frozen fingers. “Who could do such a monstrous thing?”

“Indeed, who could...” the agent mutters, too focused to really pay attention to the human on his right. The tomb was torn open, the coffin deserted, the body missing. It coincides with many reports made over the centuries - it’s unfortunately not rare for the dead to be taken and repurposed again for magic, but this particular pattern is characteristic of demonic rogues having too much time on their necromantic little hands. He will need to consult a few colleagues to confirm it, but the 3 days and the apparent magic hanging in the air is all the evidence he needs right now.

He stands, the lapels of his dark coat flapping in the chilly wind ominously. There’s a page typed up about the busy life of his missing body in his pocket, crumpled around the edges from being handled carelessly, but he takes it out to skim over it again. That’s when he spots the little detail about the private detective’s history with the Agency that he seemed to have missed the first time around.

‘1896-1898: under Agency protection

Threat: classified

Agents on the case: A. Du Mortain, N. Sewell’

The Agency gossips like there’s no tomorrow, and ever since Lady Ashbury’s return to the main facility, the gossip about the ‘Ice Queen’ and her pet detective have been the most fashionable thing to blabber on about. And since Fuller has been to the scene, it will be him who will have to provide all the answers when Du Mortain comes with her demanding questions, no doubt breaking down doors in the process as it is in her nature. Fuller is by no means a man who shies away from conflict or hard work, but he’s never been particularly good with emotions. Explaining to a lovesick elder vampire that her alleged lover is now very dead, and also quite probably the plaything of a very bored and elusive demon who likes to play with necromancy is not a task he would gladly carry out.

“Well, shit.”

Fuller shoves the page back into his pocket and sighs. He should retire and buy a house in the wilderness. Get a cat. Maybe try some cocaine - he once saw Heinrich Quincke use it for spinal anaesthesia before one of his surgeries, and have been meaning to try it out ever since. But he does none of those things - he never does.

He walks back the way he came, trying to prepare himself for the most awkward conversation of the century.

Needless to say, he couldn’t prepare himself for what was to come. But for once, he couldn’t feel mad about a messy situations. He just felt a little more hollow afterwards. And then he got another case as this one was closed and the woman was declared dead once more. And he moved on.

But, like with all his cases ending in death, he never forgot.

#dottiechan writes #ava du mortain x detective #a du mortain x detective #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc detective #ava du mortain #a du mortain #a lot to unpack here #i know a lot might still appear strange but i promise it will all make sense soon haha

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blissfulparker · 4 years

Text

Flashing lights pt.2→Prince!tom

Parings→prince!tom x Princess!reader

Summary→ when two kingdoms come together to form allies, A marriage between you and tom will hold that bond. you and tom have to learn to love each other. In front of cameras and media it’s love at first sight. alone it’s scarce touch’s and innocent looks scared to know each other.

Warnings→smut

Wc: 5k

A/n→there’s no read more I’m really sorry Because this is so long🥺🥺but I hope you enjoy!!

Pt.1 here

Stolen glances and forbidden touches ran you and Tom's new relationship. At dinner it would be his foot touching yours, reminding you that he’s there when you two were mostly swept into different conversations. In meetings you would find ways to touch him, it could be his shoulder to ask if he was still with you or it would be a soft hand brush while reaching for a pen. Each passing day you two would find new ways to show each other you cared, a relationship that was so new needed so much love.

It had been almost two weeks since the night you and tom first shared alone. Two weeks of that built up tension and now you were two months away from the wedding. Almost all talks and meetings were about you and Tom's wedding. The royal wedding for all the world to see. To you and Tom you were on the border of loving each other so dearly, you had found home in Tom and he had found his true self in you.

It was now the middle of the day. You and Tom had not gotten a chance to see each other at all. He slept through breakfast on accident while you were pulled away into a meeting. It was now 4pm and tom had not touched you once, not even locked eyes with you once all day.

“And for the charity we are going with a gatsby theme this year—“ Tom tuned out the talks of the men who walked with him. His brothers and royal members talked about something he's already heard in the meeting earlier. His mind tired and thinking about what it would be like to sneak off to your bed tonight, his mind races at the thought of it. The thought of your legs tangled with his and your lips kissing his neck—

“Tom,” his best friend snapped him out of his daydream. Only he and his brothers knew what was happening between the two of you. How well you two were getting along. “Are you with us?” he asks. Tom presses his lips together with a hum and nods, keeping his eye out for you knowing that the three of them were getting close to the bedrooms.

At this time you were either at your bedroom or you were out and about at a meeting. His eyes watch your door but nothing happens as he walks past it, only the wood stares back at him as he fiddles with his fingers to keep his focus. He knows he'll find himself back at your room later tonight. He knows your legs will intertwin and his lips will meet yours, your eyes will flicker like flames as you try to take him all.

His hand goes to his ring finger. The family ring that was now passed on to him. The gold hugged his finger tight. At first he didn’t wear it around the house, he felt wrong not knowing you that well and he took it off. Same with you, you only wore the ring when they told you to, so in public settings and royal gatherings. You still barely wore the thing. The thing that cost more than you could imagine, you wore so many girls dream ring but in the beginning despised it.

“Princess.” The voice snaps you out of your trance. You almost forget you’re being fitted for a dress. You don’t recognize yourself in the mirror, the Snow White dress with details so defining, it hugs you perfectly, makes you wish the lies to the media were all true. That you actually met Tom years ago and it was love at first sight. You wish you didn’t meet him for the first time in front of your family’s, greeting each other in awkward ways.

But now things were different, you and Tom had slowly learned to love each other. Sneaking away with each other was all in the fun of it, stealing kisses and glances was all a part of the beauty.

“It looks gorgeous.” You turn to the woman who fitted you. She has a bright smile, vibrant red lips as she steps back with her hands over her heart.

“You look absolutely beautiful, anyone would be lucky to be you.” She tells you and you smile looking at the dress.

This was it, this was the dress you’d be wearing in only a matter of months to yours and Toms wedding. Your hair would be done to look it’s best and the makeup would make you want to hold back all your tears.

“Thank you.” You tell her and she goes back to undo the dress as you just wanted to try it on. By yourself and not with your mother, Toms mother, and all the women around to tell you about it. You wanted it to be a surprise, a surprise for everyone.

For Tom seeing you walking down that isle in that dress would be the best surprise in the world.

The sun fell down and the sky turned into a soft pink. You curled yourself in bed with a book. Tom missed dinner, that wasn’t Normal of him. You didn’t think much about it since his mother had just said he was busy. Busy with what? You didn’t know. As long as you’d see him soon you’d be okay.

“I don’t think he’s coming tonight, girl.” You look at the dog, Tessa, that laid at the end of your bed. She gave you sad eyes and took a liking to you when you had gotten here.

“I know, I wanted him to come too.” You reach for scratch her head. “He’s all stressed out about the wedding and everything going right is it weird that I’m completely calm about it?”

“No, I don’t find it weird at all.” His voice deep and thick as he calls out to the room. You jump a little and place your hand over your heart.

“You scared me half to death!” You tell him, you pull the covers off of your body and walk over to him. “I thought you might’ve been asleep.” You told him and he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Mmh, and you didn’t want to come lay in bed with me? How rude.” He gives you a teasing scowl as he leans in to quickly kiss his lips.

“You know if your family sees us sleeping in the same room before the wedding they’ll flip.” You run your fingers though his hair.

“Yeah, They’re old fashioned like that. I hate it. It’s the 21st century I should be able to sleep in the same bed with my fiancé. I should be able to touch my fiancé before my wedding too.” His hand lowers down farther to give your ass a playful squeeze.

“You tease so much.” You kiss his cheek before noticing the lack of color in his face. He was so stressed, it was the wedding, the upcoming ball, the press pushing him more and more about you and his duties.

“You’re stressed.” You tell him and he shakes his head.

“I don’t want to be worried about being stressed when I’m with you, I just want to fall asleep, wake up at four to go back to my bed, And do this all again tomorrow.” He tells you and you sigh.

“You can tell me things you know, tell me what’s on your mind I won’t judge you.” You promise him. His eyes are a soft honey color in the lighting of the moon, his face filling with more freckles as the sun stays out longer. His muscles much tighter as he was working out more and playing more sports. All the nights you’ve been close, close to stripping all clothes and taking each other as if you were each other’s water and you were dying. So close but something always happens.

“Tell me.” You seduce more. You place a kiss on the left side of his neck, a kiss on his Adam’s apple, a kiss on the right side of his neck, a kiss on his jaw, he was withering under each kiss. “What’s hurting my boy?” You kiss his jaw and he lets his head fall back to allow you to keep kissing.

“I just can’t wait to be with you. All of this will be worth it in the end.” He pulls you in closer to him and now brings your chin in for a kiss. He places a soft yet passionate kiss on your lips. His hands move up your back and feel the silk straps of the night dress in his hands. He could easily flick them off and like that you’re his, under him nude. You could do the same for him, one untie of his sweats and remove his shirt and he was naked before you.

“I-I tried their dress on today.” You stop him. Hands on chest to tell him the news.

“The wedding dress?” He looks at you in shock. Eyes wide and his mouth agape.

“Yeah,” you look down, tapping your fingers on his chest. “I went dress hunting with your mom last week and I saw it but didn’t try it on. My mom doesn’t land until Saturday but I was so eager I called the shop and snuck down to try it on. No one saw me but it’s the one, it’s definitely the one.” You tell him with a soft smile and he can’t help but to grow one himself.

“T-that’s amazing! Oh my god when do I get to see it?” He asks and you playfully hit his chest.

“Our wedding day when else?” You laugh and he drops his shoulders.

“I don’t get a sneak peak or anything? I don’t even get an idea of what it looks like? No pictures or anything?” He acts upset when he’s really just playing with you.

“No, no, and no. It’s bad luck and trust me this whole relationship ran on luck.” You laugh and he kisses your cheek softly.

“Yeah but I’d say pretty good luck huh?” He smiles and you nod. “Sleeping beauty should get some rest then, she had a long day.” He caresses you’re cheek and you roll your eyes at his newfound pet name for you.

“You should too, your eyes are so pale, like a zombie.” You tease and this time he rolls his eyes.

You lead him to the bed where you both get comfortable under the covers. Tessa moves off the bed and to her dog bed you had created for her to sleep in at night.

When both comfortable you roll over to face Tom. His shirt now off after he’s complained several times about how it makes his skin dry and itchy. You didn’t believe that but whatever made him comfortable.

“Are you just stressed about the wedding?” You move a curl from his face and he holds your wrist moving your hand to rest on his cheek.

“I’m worried everything will go wrong honestly.” He tells you, he wasn’t shy of you after a few weeks of being together. You trust each other like you knew each other a thousand years.

“What do you mean?” You ask, his hand holds your back and massages soft circles.

“I mean what if I hurt you? My family hurts you? The public-anyone! What if I’m not as good as they make me out to be?” His voice cracks and you move closer.

“You wanna know what I think?” You ask and he nods. “I think you’re not going to hurt me. I think you’re a wonderful person and I’ve only been here for a month but no one understands me like you, y-you care so much tom. You care so much about everyone but yourself and I don’t care what the public says. You’re not ever going to hurt me.” You kiss his forearm that’s in your sight. A soft kiss that his eyes follow. “I promise.” You whisper as you reach up and kiss him. A kiss where he holds your face and makes sure you know he’s thankful for you. A kiss where he makes sure to remember when he wakes up.

“I want to honeymoon away from paparazzi,” he kisses some more, crawling on top of you, your hands hold on his shoulders while his for arms rest besides your head. “Anywhere but no cameras, just us.” His eyes open to look at you, your face soft and glowing.

“I want that,” you smile nodding, you pull his face down kissing him again, not wanting to miss a second with him. “I want you.” Your hands fall from his face and roam his chest, tease all the way down to the jaw strings of his sweats.

“Wait-“ he stops you looking down at you. He knows you’re a virgin. He knows that your first real kiss was in the library. He knows you’ve been protected your whole life for he had went to parties when he was a teen, had secret girlfriends, had sex often times out of spite, you two were different. He didn’t want to hurt you, he didn’t want you to regret this. “I’m not pressuring you to do anything. I’ll go back to my room right now if you’re uncomfortable.” He tells you and you shake your head. He climbs off you nervous of what’s next.

“No, no, I want this I do! Do you not want this?” You bite your lip scared that maybe you had read everything wrong.

“I do, I do and I’ll be gentle. I promise, tell me when I hurt you and tell me anytime if you’re uncomfortable we’ll stop, we’ll stop and I can leave if you’d like.” He promises and you lean in close to him, wanting him so badly.

“I want this.” You kiss his cheek. His arms go around you once again and place you back on your back once again.

His lips meet yours and trail down your neck to your chest, his fingers slip under the straps of the dress letting them fall off your shoulders and give him access to pull down the dress.

“This okay?” He asks and you nod already having your head thrown back and eyes shut. “Words, Princess.” He says and you breathe out a yes.

His lips trace down your stomach, his hands large on your thighs pulling them over his shoulders as he went down.

“Are you okay with this?” his words in a whisper. Your hands tangle in his hair, the curls no long in their perfect form but fluffy against your hands. Everything felt euphoric, his hands grip tight at your thighs as you squirm and his eyes flicker up to see your eyes screwed shut.

It was only seconds until you reached your high and melted in his hands like gold. His thumb wipes his mouth before coming up to meet with you again. Your breathing uneasy, beads of sweat on your chest and forehead.

Your hands go to touch him but he shakes his head.

“No,” he touches some of your hair before letting you fall back into the pillow. “This was about you, i want this to be about you.”

“But you-” you start and he shakes his head.

“Uh-uh.” his eyes take in every feature of yours. “I'm going to clean up.” he told you, getting out of bed and moving over to the bathroom where he ran the water over his face. You smile into the pillow, you feel your body burning and you can't stop smiling. You love him. You don't want to tell him yet but you love him. Love him more than anything.

“Not too tight please!” you suck in a breath as your mom tightens your wedding dress. The day was finally here. The white dress runs off your body and Toms mom fixes your hair.

You thought you'd hate Tom, absolutely despise being with him. When you got here you were so scared and mad you didn't even want to look at him but now you couldn't wait to stand in front of him. Maybe it was the way he made you feel like home that first night in the library. How he kissed you for the first time and promised not to hurt you. How he snuck into your room every night. How he taught you how to golf even if you were still terrible at it, it was him teaching you that he loved.

“Oh relax sweetheart,” your mom tied the final knot and turned around to look at you. “You look beautiful.” she has tears in her eyes.

“Thank you.” you try to speak normally but it comes out as a whisper.

“Are you ready?” she asks you and you nod. She gives you a kiss on the cheek before holding your hand to lead you out to your father.

When the music starts and the doors open you can see Tom at the end. In his own suit, his hair gelled back and he rocked back and forth on his heels as he waited. His eyes wide when he saw you, he bit his bottom lip and eyes watered at the sight.

“Wow.” he mouthed and you smiled at him from the distance. Cameras watched you two as you got married. A royal wedding where there were cameras, people you've never even met, and it felt like it lasted forever but tom made it go by all the quicker.

You listened to people tell you how beautiful you looked the whole night. Most people you didn't know but had to pretend you knew forever.

“Excuse me? Sara, can i borrow (y/n) for a minute?” tom interrupted as you spoke to his cousin. She gave him a smile before allowing him to take you away. Out of the large ballroom and into a more secluded hall that only maids came in and out of.

“Someone is eager.” you laugh a little as his hands quickly wrap around your waist and bring you down for a kiss.

“Yeah, my queen looks like this and I'm supposed to just have a casual conversation about golf with my brothers? I'm going out of my mind.” his lips attack your neck and you giggle pushing him back.

“Technically I’m not a queen.” You tell him, your hands rest on his suit and his thumbs rub soft circles into your back.

“Maybe not, but you look like one.” He moves his hand to touch your face. Never touch her face. He can hear his moms voice ring in his head after he tried to touch your makeup that was perfect on your skin. Now you two were in private and he could touch you all he wanted without the scolding of others.

“This doesn’t feel real.” You hum looking over your shoulder to see the ball room. Kids dance in the middle, adults drink and laugh, everyone is happy. You still miss your old kingdom, your home, but Tom has done a fine job at making this one still feel like home.

“C’mon.” He holds your hands and pulls you back.

“Tom? What are you doing?” You ask with a worried face.

“C’mon it will be quick!” He encourages as he pulls you farther and farther from the crowd.

“No, Tom, your parents, my parents, they’ll kill us if they know we’re missing from our own wedding!” You try and move back but he’s moving faster away from the party.

“It’ll be quick, everyone is either too drunk or too blinded from the beauty of this to see we’re missing.” He tells you.

You let him guide you half way through the house, your feet hurt from trying to run quick enough so no one thinks you’re gone.

The library. You remember this from the first night with him. The library doors stare at the two of you until tom opens them.

The room is dark, cold, empty. Your voices would carry if you spoke too loudly. Tom didn’t hesitate to go over to the fire pit and start it up. There were books on the table, fairytales, all the ones from when you were a kid.

“I-it took awhile to find the originals. the first night we talked you told me about how you read those fairytales as a kid and I knew you were missing home a lot. So I did some digging and found some of the books from when you were a kid to make you still feel at home.” He swallows hard and you touch each cover. They were leather covers, yellow pages, crisp to the touch and soft to the eye.

You look over at tom with a soft look in your face. Walking over to him you hold his face, moving the curl that came out of place when running.

“You know,” you start with your hand touching his chin. “The bride and groom don’t give each other gifts.” You tell him and his hands go to play with the straps of your dress.

“I know, I just don’t ever want you to feel like this isn’t your home either.” His voice almost in a whisper.

“I love you.” Your voice broke through. He hasn’t heard you say it. Not in full at least, not with meaning. “I truly, deeply am in love with you Thomas Stanley Holland.” You tell him looking up at him. His brown eyes melt into yours, his mouth gaped and he’s frozen.

“You don’t have to say that just because we’re married.” He warns you and you shake your head.

“If I didn’t love you why would I let you spend so many nights in my room, why would I sneak off with you just to kiss you, why would I even think about playing golf with you if I didn’t love you?” You ask and he lets out a soft laugh at the last part.

“You’re willing to learn golf?” He laughs, you playfully hit his chest.

“Tom I’m trying to have a moment with you.” You laugh and he moves in closer.

“I know.” His lips ghost over yours. “I love you too.” In a whisper his lips meet yours. His lips mold against yours, soft and warm, tasting like the wine from earlier. His hands go to move to your upper back, ready to take off the dress before you pull back knowing you can’t do this when you have over a 100 guests downstairs.

“W-we have to wait.” You told him and his lips came off of you. A soft shade of red they were as he looked at you for more. He nods knowing you’re right, kissing your jaw one more time before moving back from you.

“Oh shit.” He touches his lips seeing the soft red come off of it. The red lipstick you once wore smeared onto his.

“Maybe you should’ve waited…” you tease and he puts out the fire.

He rolls his eyes and kisses your cheek quickly as he takes your hand to go back down to the party.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He rubs the rest off and wipes it on his pants to let no one know what happened.

A night that was the start to a marriage.

“Okay, one, two, three—“ he states and you turn around.

“Tom, I’m awful at this.” You pout. Eyes squinted and your legs burned from both the sun and the endless walking you two did.

The sun burnt against your skin, the clouds gone as it was one of the brightest days London has seen. Golf club in hand as you promised today you would golf with tom.

“No, no, you’re just not letting yourself try.” He comes up behind you. His shirt tight, his pants fit him perfectly and he wears a hat to block the sun. You let him wrap his arms around you and help you grip the club.

“Like i said, left hand on top, right hand on bottom, bring it back,” he lifts it back with you, breath on your neck, lips dangerously close. “And swing.”

The ball goes far and you turn around to smile at tom. You hated this, didn’t understand how this could be so much fun for him. But he was happy, he was so excited to teach you and promised he wouldn’t bother you again about it If you came.

“See, was that so bad?” He asked, close to your face you steal a kiss.

“Actually, yes. How do you find this so amusing tom?.” You ask him and he takes the club from you to place it in the cart.

“Could ask you the same about reading!” He groans putting everything in. You come up and grip his arms when he’s done with the cart. He looks at your left hand, the ring sparkles in the sun and reminds him that you two are real.

“Are we having our first married couple fight?” You ask with a smirk. Your hands trace up to move around his neck. His hands hold your waist and pulls you into his hips.

“No, that was last night when you told me my tea was painful to drink because it had nothing in it.” He comes back with a cocky smirk. You roll your eyes and fall into his chest.

“Because it was painful too drink.” You come up to place a soft kiss on his jawline. He tilts his head back asking for more before he hears the sound of his brothers.

“Tom! (Y/n)! We invited you along to play, not to makeout!” His younger brother yells. Tom, with a groan, looks over to his younger brothers with a squint and flips them off. You grab his wrist quickly and place a soft kiss on his cheek.

“We should make a deal.” You tell him and he looks at you now interested.

“What kind of deal?” He asks scratching your back lightly.

“If I win...I never have to play this pointless game again.” You tell and he rolls his eyes. “If you win...you get to do whatever you want with me.” You tease and his eyes go wide.

“Princess, I love you, but you’re already losing.” He tells and you let go of him and get into the cart.

“Well, then you better get to thinking.” You tell him and he quickly gets in the cart just needing this game to be over.

Three months. That’s all it took. Three months and it’s like you two knew each other a lifetime. You missed home but got to visit it now that you were married. Every night you fell asleep with toms arms around you and everything felt perfect.

Maybe you were wrong about fairytales. The things written in about fairytales were now coming true. Everyone does fall in love with their prince in the end and they get happily ever after. You got your happily ever after.

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the-knight-of-the-stars · 3 years

Note

Shuri and Carlos and Jay

Sorry I´m so horribly late at this... But its finally done! yey! Hope is not too messy

For this Ship Game

Indiscreet

The party had lost its color several hours ago. With the passing of time, the same repetitive waltz played over and over again, and the quiet voices of the guests trying to sound demure with their flat conversation had ended up leaving those present in a strange state of boredom and fed up. The musicians themselves didn't seem to play as keenly, and the music dripped wearily from the instruments, floating on the empty dance floor as the waiters tried not to nod, beginning to lose their upright posture next to the tables of half-eaten snacks.

Shuri sat in the middle of the cottony environment, sitting at her table in the open air, resting her head on her hands and by inertia watching as Evie passed from table to table asking how everyone was spending it. The wind began to lightly shake the colored ribbons that decorated the tables, and Shuri was grateful that at least the breeze could lessen the heat of the strong summer sun. She blew out a tired breath, looking away, wondering for the sixth time why she had agreed to come to this party.

In her defense, the idea of a supposedly informal picnic, in Auradon Castle's new garden honoring the recently named Lady Mal and hosted by the very nice Evie, hadn't sounded so bad at first. Of course, Shuri couldn't have known that Lady Mal would be three whole hours late in arriving and that she would only be able to speak to Evie when she was rushing by to ask if they needed anything, as she looked at the sun to check the time, trying to hide her exasperation for the obvious failure of the party.

As Shuri fingered the bland sandwiches on her plate with her fork, Carlos returned with a couple of cold drinks. He sat down next to her, and Shuri straightened up to look at him, thanking him for the drink with a small smile. At least, Shuri thought sipping her drink, she'd had the good sense not to go to the party alone. If it weren't for Carlos, Shuri was sure she would have left the party in the first hour. But despite the uncomfortable boredom she felt, Shuri had allowed herself to enjoy Carlos's company with much more comfort than she had been able to until now. Having him close felt like sunshine.

"I can't take this any longer ..." Shuri exclaimed looking at the grassy ground and kicking it desperately "Is there any purpose to this? She is not even here "

"Yeah, sorry about that," Carlos said with a pained smile "I should have told you that the plan changes are Mal's trademark"

Shuri answered with a long, loud sigh, looking around and wondering if everyone would have the same desire to leave as she did.

Carlos gulped, daring to look at Shuri and unconsciously starting to form a smile. He could feel bubbles popping inside him. He liked Shuri in a way he could never have expected. She seemed to him to be the coolest person he knew, she was funny, fresh, sincere, and wonderfully intelligent. Shuri's talents had amazed him since he'd first seen her come as a special guest to demonstrate in robotics class, and he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her since. He admired every part of her, even though he had no idea how to show it.

Carlos had never so wished he could put his shyness aside. Just seeing her eyes made him nervous, she had a beautiful look. Carlos shook his head, and looked away, biting his lip anxiously, wondering what to say.

"Well ... you know ... if you want ..." began Carlos awkwardly trying to sound calm "I brought my headphones ... I'm not the biggest fan of parties either ... we can listen to something if you want ...

Shuri watched him for an instant. The proposal had surprised him, but an excited gleam appeared in her eyes. For the first time, she seemed slightly nervous.

"Of course, why not?" she replied with a small smile. Carlos also smiled.

He took them out of his coat pocket and handed one to Shuri to share. The afternoon heat was raging, and the wind blew, cooling their faces. Carlos chose a simple song, soft tune, and few instruments, but wonderfully happy. Shuri was surprised by how much the music managed to light up the atmosphere. She realized that she was closer to Carlos now than she had been all morning, their arms brushing, but she felt much more comfortable than she had expected.

Carlos's lips trembled slightly, but he seemed delighted to be by her side. Shuri smiled, feeling the music dance in her chest. She, too, was beginning to feel enchanted. She had always been fancied by Carlos, he was simple and brilliant. They understood each other with surprising ease, despite their differences in character. It had taken Shuri a while to realize Carlos' particular interest in her, his small approaches and spontaneous details, and the idea had amused her immensely. Shuri herself had been surprised at how much she had come to like him. He was a kind of sweet that she had never known.

"Thank you for joining me today" Shuri thanked him, believing it prudent that this time, she was the one to initiate the approach "You are much better at these things than I am."

Carlos lowered his head and smiled slightly. Was he ashamed? Shuri thought with a certain nervousness. That had been a compliment, she had paid him a compliment, hadn't she?

"It is my pleasure, I like to believe that in another life I would have been a fantastic princess" replied Carlos, a little more daring, bringing his face closer and looking into her eyes. Shuri laughed, more relaxed.

"I believe it too" she replied in a good mood.

"Or perhaps I am in this life as well, who knows?"

"Yeah, maybe, you certainly have the character"

"Oh, I do?"

“Absolutely, kind, crowd-pleasing, discrete. But you do need to be more arrogant, like a real royal "

"You are not arrogant, and you are a real royal"

"You underestimate me, white head"

"Really?"

"Sure, I'm a genius, arrogance is my life juice"

"Well, I think you are sweeter than you give yourself credit for" replied Carlos with a mischievous smile.

"Oh, shut up! I'm not sweet! " Shuri responded offended, giving him a small blow on the shoulder, holding back the laugh.

"What? You are sweet ”

Suri shook her head, smiling.

"I knew you were a boot licker"

Carlos responded with a laugh, raising his hands, in a certain attitude of Oh, you caught me there. Shuri leaned back in her seat, looking pleased with her friend. For a moment, she had forgotten how boring the party was, and even the music that was playing in her ear. The afternoon was beginning, and the rest of the guests seemed to have begun to lose their patience, fed up with the heat and monotony. But now Shuri was feeling a bit more optimistic. Maybe going there today had not been a total waste.

Shuri approached, a little more confident, and discreetly rested her head on Carlos's shoulder. He didn't move. H could hear her breathing. Shuri allowed herself to think that Carlos could be truly charming. No, not entirely a waste. There was a certain charm in that summer noon, it awakened the most subtle senses.

Just as they began to relax between the music and the soft breathing, their calm was suddenly interrupted. Suddenly, Shuri felt the tickle of a breath on the back of her neck.

"Hey!"

She looked back in surprise, and Jay's confident smile greeted her.

Unlike them, decked out in elegant clothes and neat demeanor, Jay was wearing one of his old sleeveless Saturday shirts and ripped jeans. His hair was messy, his face was glowing. Shuri guessed that he had just showered after Journey practice, and run all the way there.

"Hi princess" he greeted with his charming half-smile. Shuri answered him in the same way.

"Jay you bastard" she replied "You scared me! What are you doing here? It's a private party. You do know what that means, right? "

"Of course. It means entering is twice as fun. "

"Let's see if you keep smiling when one of the princesses sees you and sends the guards on you"

"Oh please, I thought you knew me," Jay said with an arrogant smile, sliding to sit in the chair next to her "Princesses love me"

Shuri rolled her eyes, and leaned back in her seat, suppressing a smile. Jay winked at Carlos in greeting and blew Shuri an imaginary kiss. She laughed, she knew what Jay had come for. He liked to cause trouble, he was always lighting sparks. And lately, he seemed to have gotten into the habit of showing up in the same places as her, with his seductive demeanor, bad jokes, and sassy approaches. Ultimately, Jay seemed interested in her. But Jay seemed to be interested in everyone, and unlike Carlos, he wasn't quiet about it.

"So… what have you been doing this beautiful morning?" Jay asked, popping one of the sandwiches on the table. “Did Mal already bored you to death with her speech? I heard her rehearsing last night… A nightmare”

Jay shook himself as if the idea had given him chills. Carlos gave a little laugh.

"I wish" replied Carlos "She didn't even come"

"Really?"

"Really" Shuri affirmed with a sigh.

"Well, too bad" Jay replied getting up from the chair "What do you say, are we leaving here?"

"We can't go big brain," said Shuri "We accept the invitation, now we have to wait for her to arrive"

"Oh come on Shuri ..." said Jay taking her hand and pressing his face to Shuri's shoulder "We're going to die of boredom here"

"Enough," Shuri said, pushing him away laughing, trying not to blush "I remind you that you don't have to stay, you weren't even invited"

"Well it should have been, don't you think?" Jay replied, kneeling between their chairs so that he could put his arms around both of them. "This party got so much better with me in it."

"Don't get your hopes up, we were fine without you, right Carlos?" Shuri exclaimed jokingly. Carlos smiled slightly, looking at Jay with a new twinkle in his eyes.

"I mean ... A little more fun would do us good" he replied with a shrug. Jay grinned from ear to ear.

"See? That's my man ”said Jay excitedly, leaning over Carlos to slap an enthusiastic kiss on his cheek. Carlos pulled away feeling his face heat up and gave a nervous laugh. "Come on Shuri ... don't tell me you don't want a more exciting Saturday"

Shuri refused to answer, crossing her arms, and raising an eyebrow. Jay smiled. After a heavy morning of training, Shuri felt like a delicious bucket of water. Jay liked the cool way Shuri managed to capture his humor, that she could joke with him in the same way. They managed to understand each other extraordinarily well. Somehow they were very similar, Jay could recognize it, but his own strength did not compare to the strength that emanated from everything Shuri did, it was a worthy, almost supernatural strength. But beautifully human.

Despite his magnificent intelligence, Shuri never made him feel like a fool. Jay knew how easy it would be for her to do it, but instead, she chose to be his friend. She chose to be simple, strangely, normal. Funny, exciting, awkward at moments, a little weird... like him. Although in reality, nothing about Shuri was ordinary.

Anxious, Jay rested his head on the table and ran his gaze between Shuri and Carlos. They looked gorgeous in their white party outfits, like two angels, getting bored in the sun from an emotionless party. The thought made him laugh. Maybe, he could be their devil.

Carlos looked to the sides, starting to blush to see that some guests were beginning to notice the disheveled athlete half lying on his table. Jay thought his nervousness was adorable. He could understand it, Shuri had that effect on people, you just felt the need to like her.

Seeing Shuri continue to be reluctant, Jay, with deft hands, took with his fingertips the sandwich that was resting on her plate.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Shuri asked "That's mine"

"Oh is it? Sorry princess ”Jay replied. And he put the sandwich in his mouth, holding it between his teeth "Why don't you come and have it?"

She shook her head, pursing her lips to keep from laughing.

"Don't test me, thief" she said, imitating the hissing way he called her princess "You could get burned if you play with fire"

Jay chewed on the sandwich, enduring Shuri's cosmic dark eyes, and smiled.

"I think I'd like it" replied Jay "You know would. I like... you"

Shuri knew it.

"And where would you take us?" she inquired approaching him.

"Where the wind takes us, somewhere we can be alone. All three,” Jay replied with a smile as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Shuri lowered her head thoughtfully, licking her lips. SH had imagined it, but I heard it was something different. Bum Bum Bum.

“Please Shuri, I had the most horrible morning, and you two had it too. I think we could use a little fire, ” Jay said with a shrug, a smile that invited them to fun.

Shuri thought for a moment. Bum Bum Bum. Her heart sang in her chest. What was that emotion running inside her? The brilliant thought of an unexpected adventure. She turned to see Carlos for a moment, and he too seemed excited about the idea. And the strangest of all, those two boys were an adventure. On a morning so flat, so white, it was the last thing she would have expected, but her heart kept beating.

The wind ruffled her clothes, made her skin crawl. Her friends looked radiant in the sun. The three seemed to share that strange feeling of boredom and fun at that failed party. Children playing politics, a forgotten and old-fashioned high society. Three extraordinary teenagers. They didn't really felt that way. How absurd that life they led sometimes seemed. The most normal thing seemed to be what happened between them. That first-time tender emotion, as mature as they could feel it. Wasn't that love? The most extraordinarily ordinary thing.

Shuri pursed her lips. She had done much more dangerous things in the past, she had fought, she had stood up in the name of her nation. Why did the idea of sneaking out from a party with two boys make her feel so adrenaline-fueled? She did not know it. But she liked it. A leap of courage, a little fire.

"Let's do it"

Jay laughed with victory, and ecstatic, he put his face close to hers. Shuri did not retreat, she kept her smile. So he kissed her, as he had wanted to do for so long. It was smooth and fleeting, barely lasting an instant. Shuri covered her mouth, laughing. She didn't even think about people seeing them.

Jay ran into the labyrinth of gardens, Carlos and Shuri followed him laughing, leaving behind their possessions, and the looks of the confused people watching them abandon the table. Carlos, on a happy impulse, offered his hand to Shuri. She hesitated for a second and took it, a new lightness in her chest, Carlos´s grip was firm and loving. And the two of them ran after Jay holding hands, engulfed in dreamy joy. Music of their own that resounded in their hearts. Losing themselves in the maze of roses and dahlias, jostling each other, splashing in the lily ponds, and rolling in the fields of freshly cut grass.

Daisies and herbs filled their hair, mud stained their clothes, drowned in the scent of flowers and the skin of others. They laughed until they were out of breath and were intoxicated by the embrace of each other, hiding their faces in other clothes and in the bushes of the garden. The sun was shining strong and high. Sweet, sweet summer love.

#hope you like it #took me my time #but i did it #the others on the way #disney descendants #requests #ship game

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sxfterhearts · 4 years

Text

35. [4:28 pm]

➳ pairing: youngjae x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff, royal!au, prince!youngjae, lady!reader

➳ word count: 1,496 words

➳ summary: 35. “After you.”

➳ author's note: hello angels! i’m so so sorry for my recent absence, uni has been really busy. here is a youngjae fluff to make up for it! this is my first time writing this au so i’m excited to share this! it was a lot of fun and i got really inspired by nbtm + the wildflowers i saw on my trip :)) have a nice day and week lovelies <333

“After you,” Youngjae said breezily, a royal blue, satin covered arm coming up to brush a stray branch aside, clearing the path ahead for you.

“No,” You shook your head with a faux frown, refusing. “After you, Your Royal Highness.” Insistently, you rooted your leather high boots firmly onto the ground, not moving an inch.

“C'mon, Y/N!” He sighed exasperatedly, dramatically. Youngjae always harboured a burning hatred for formalities. “I know you liked our old spot at the top of the hill, but I swear you’ll love this place even better. I just want to show you a part of this kingdom that you’ve never seen before!” A glint of excitement flashed across your eyes at the mention of exploring another corner of his family’s vast lands. Sensing that you were about to cave to his request, the Prince hastily interlocked your fingers with his, guiding you through the dense forest just beyond the edge of the Royal Gardens. “Besides, as your host, I ought to bring you someplace that didn’t make you sneeze your brains out every other minute. The canola fields have triggered your allergies ever since you were a child.” Youngjae added.

“But I like the canola!”

Youngjae scrunched up his nose in distaste. “Well, I certainly don’t like explaining to your maids why their precious Lady turned into a swollen, slimy tomato by the end of our evening together and–”

“Okay, fine!” You squeezed his hand to signal your defeat. He couldn’t see your resigned, dejected look, the one that you wore every time he won an argument, but if he did, you’d bet on every single horse in your stables that he would clutch his stomach and double over in boisterous laughter. “You’ve said enough. Point taken.”

Satisfied, the Prince continued to lead you further into the forest. His pleasing, melodic whistles (charming renditions of folk songs, you supposed) were in harmony with the tunes of the lively forest. Your ears could easily pick up on the airy whispers of rustling leaves, the sweet sopranos of chirping birds and the trickling stream singing in an allegro tempo. It was shaping up to be quite an orchestra, with the one and only Youngjae taking centre stage as both lead singer and conductor.

Throughout the far-reaching kingdom ruled by the Choi dynasty, Youngjae was known as the precious youngest son of the reigning monarchs. The boy made quite a name of himself by gracing those around him with his sunshine smile and bright personality. There were even poems and songs written about the Prince’s ability to shine his brilliant light onto his people’s lives. Many claimed that the Prince had a heart of pure gold, as he would often roam beyond the gates of the Palace, interacting with the locals by personally buying his art supplies from the markets, painting murals and paintings for the young and old, and lending a hand whenever a carriage got stuck in mud or when an old grandpa strained himself while moving large crates of vegetables. The people often muttered under their breaths about how it was such a shame that Youngjae had little chance of claiming the throne, for he was the last in line after his elder siblings. But the Youngjae you knew and grew up with had never set his sights on being King. Ever since spending that first summer in the Palace with his eleven-year-old self, you were certain that he was meant for even greater things. Youngjae loathed politics and diplomacies. He hated pretending like someone he wasn’t, just for the sake of strengthening relations and maintaining peace. All Youngjae wanted to do was to live a carefree life and practice his art.

“We’re nearly there, My Lady,” Youngjae chirped in his best impression of a maid. “Just have to cross this tiny little stream.” The young royal came to a halt before the gushing stream, his free arm circling around your waist securely.

Your mouth went dry in an instant. The body of water a few steps ahead of you seemed like anything but a tiny little stream; it was fervently licking at the banks, swallowing and chomping up any leaf or branch or insect that stood in its way. You were deafened by the relentless roars of rapidly flowing water, causing you to shrink into his side in search of safety. Petrified, you glanced upwards at the Prince, shaking your head slowly to get your point across. You did not like this, not at all.

“I know you’re scared, Y/N, but I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me. I’ll hold onto you so tightly that we’ll be stuck together like two peas in a pod.”

“But I… I don’t…”

“You’ll never get hurt, not on my watch.” Youngjae declared resolutely. He knew; he could tell from your shallower breaths and widening pupils that you were afraid of falling in, just like you did five summers ago. You and your brother loved spending time within the Palace’s walls, but you had taken a special liking towards the koi pond right at the heart of the Royal Gardens. Each summer when you returned to the Palace from your home in the Northern Lands, the trees and the flowers and the design of the Gardens would change beyond recognition. The pond was the only thing that remained untouched, year after year.

You used to love sitting by the edges and feeding the koi fishes or testing out your paper boats with Youngjae and your brother. You could stay there for ages, from sunrise until sundown. That is, until you accidentally tripped into the pond and nearly drowned. After that, you avoided it like the plague.

“If you’re really not comfortable with this, we can turn around, no big deal.” Youngjae reminded you in the gentlest voice he could muster. The stream was barely a meter wide, with a large sturdy rock smack bang in its centre, but he knew; he could feel the hesitation radiating off your skin. He was aware of how the minutes seemed to drag into hours as you gasped for air that afternoon, your feet straining and struggling to reach the bottom. Youngjae knew that the memory still haunted you.

Your clammy hands clawed onto his back, your fingernails leaving deep imprints through his luxurious tunic. Sensing his eagerness to show you this new hideout of his, you tried your best to swallow your fears and gave him a slight nod.

“You sure? We really don’t have to.”

“I swear, Choi Youngjae,” You whispered impatiently. “If you don’t move right now, I’m going to change my mind.”

He chuckled at that, all melodious and warm. His laughter felt like a blast of sunshine on a cool spring day, which did wonders to ease your nerves. He wasted no time in holding you close to his chest, similar to how you would position yourselves when dancing side by side in the Palace’s ballroom. “It’s a lot like dancing, really.” Youngjae said, inching towards the very edge of the stream. “You just have to coordinate your steps with mine. We’ve done this before a million times. Now, right foot, oh yes, your right. Okay, ready? Take a big step and –”

Your feet moved in perfect unison. The two of you arrived on the rock in the blink of an eye. “We made it.” You breathed out in disbelief.

Youngjae simply cradled you snugly in his arms for several moments. You relished in the immeasurable amount of security you felt being with him, while he grinned smugly at the sight of you finally overcoming your fear. “I told you so,” He pressed his lips against your ear and whispered.

The rest of the journey only took another five minutes. Before you knew it, you arrived at a small yet breathtaking clearing in the forest. The ground was decorated with a plethora of wildflowers emerging amongst tall grass, specks of white and gold and pink everlastings flooding your entire vision. In the middle of the clearing sat a large rock and a fallen trunk, the ideal place to sit down, catch your breath and take in the wondrous scenery.

Which was exactly what you and Youngjae did for the rest of the late afternoon. You drank from your flask of elderflower cider while inhaling the fragrant, floral perfumes surrounding you; Youngjae chewed on the end of his sketching pencil while also crafting a rough sketch of you in his notebook, resting on the trunk. You laughed and you talked, all while sharing a loaf of buttered rosemary bread you swiped from the kitchens this morning.

Much to your pleasant surprise, you didn’t let out a single sneeze. Not even when Youngjae passed you his sketch for your inspection and placed a white flower behind your ear. This was exactly why he brought you here, he claimed.

He was right. As it turned out, you loved this place the most.

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i-dream-of-twilight-sparkle · 3 years

Text

Chapter 18: The Royal Ball, Part 6 - Sweetie Belle’s Performance

While their much older friends and/or family are having their fun, the Cutie Mark Crusaders have had a table for themselves where they’ve been playing together and enjoying the performances that have shown up thus far themselves. Clapping for Trixie’s show, getting some good laughs from Autumn’s Puppet Show, and Sweetie Belle in particular enjoying Coloratura singing The Magic Inside again.

They continue to have some banter between them, until they’re joined by a family member of Apple Bloom and former fellow cutie mark crusader, Babs Seed. Who eventually found her talent in being a barber in Manehattan and is currently under the tutelage under of one of the most famous hair stylists in Manehattan. While she was here, she thought she’d visit her cousin and her friends for a little bit

Babs Seed: Hey there, Apple Bloom! How’s my cuz, doin’?

Apple Bloom: Oh hey Babs! Nice t’ see ya! Ya’ll still having ah nice time at that barber shop ya work fo’?

Babs: Yeah! I get chosen whenever somepony wants a cool haircut, such as mohawks or the different kinds of punk-style haircuts

Scootaloo: Niicceeee! Maybe I should get one of your hairstyles sometime, Babs!

Babs: Haha, I’d love to have a hoof at styling your hair in cool ways some day, Scoots.

Sweetie: I may need your services sometime too, Babs. I’ve gotten into singing metal, could be useful for such performances.

Babs: Awww yeah! That would be pretty nice too, Sweetie. I have been wondering how you’ve all been. Been up to anything lately? Maybe tell me how you all were invited here?

Apple Bloom: Sure thing! Ah was mah sister’s first invite when she got t’ the farm, then ah would go t’ get inviting Zecora here as mah sister invited others in our family, as well as Rara and Autumn.

Babs: Yeah, thanks to ya sister we got some pretty awesome, and funny in the case of Autumn Blaze, performances tonight! Though I also kind of got to thank her for inviting Rara for another reason, as in turn she’d bring me. I was taking care of Photo Finish’s mane at the time Applejack was there in Manehattan so I couldn’t quite come across her. Anything else happen though, Apple Bloom?

Apple Bloom: Well.. all that’s left is sort o’ sad, Ah must warn ya. But what ah did next was try t’ see if Grand Pear was available t’ go, he didn’t end up goin’ but we’d find him visiting the graves o’ mah late parents…

Babs: Oh… yea… visiting the graves of dead beloved relatives is always a bummer… I hope this ball is making ya feel better though.

Apple Bloom: It is, yeah.

Babs: How about you, Scoots? Whatcha been up to?

Scootaloo: Hm, it has been a while since we last saw eachother hasn’t it?

Babs: Well, I was at the party ya held that ya girls held to try to convince ya parents to let you stay in Ponyville. But I suppose I haven’t been made too aware of what ya’ve done in a little more then 2 years.

Scootaloo: Is that so? Then I guess you’re not quite very are of… this!

Scootaloo shifts her body from the waist down into her seapony tail in front of Babs, and bends it in a way that would be impossible to bend hooves in to prove it’s a real fish-like tail. Scootaloo now sitting with her sea pony tail dangling down from the side of her chair.

Babs: WHOA! Ya can turn half-fish?! Just like the hippogriffs with their necklaces, but ya don’t have a necklace! How are ya doing it?

Scootaloo: A wish from Twilight, really. But there’s more to this then just that, I’ve been training myself to use this form and get even better at swimming. And just two weeks ago? I was able to convince Spitfire and the Wonderbolts to make a new branch called the Waterbolts! I can’t join yet despite helping start it, but they got decent number of good swimmers from Mount Aeris/Seaquestria to get it started. Along with some of the best fliers there too who will try to become proper Wonderbolts in the near future.

Babs: That’s awesome! Dang Scoots, ya’ve made history!

Scootaloo: Just wait till’ I’m all grown up and I’m the fastest swimmer on the planet! That will be the real kind of history I want to make!

Babs: Yeah! That’ll be a sight to see one day, ya could even do a show in the Manehattan Bay! See how fast it takes for ya to do 20 laps around The Statue of Friendship!

Scootaloo: Yeah! Exactly! It’s gonna be awesome!

Scootaloo transforms back to her pony form

Babs: Now how about you, Sweetie. You mentioned you found out you’re a bit of a metal singer. Mind explaining that?

Sweetie: Of course! After being invited by my sister, we would eventually get to Vinyl Scratch and Octavia’s house to invite them. I decided I’d stay with them a little bit as Rarity got her invitees. I decided to give their karaoke machine a try, and picked a few songs I wanted to sing for them. All of the ones I chose were some level of Metal/Hard Rock. And I guess I did great, as I left them impressed to the point that they actually want me to sing another song here at the ball just to show my voice.

Babs: No way, you’re going to be performing?! When?

Sweetie: Well either me or Cheese Sandwich is next. As soon as Octavia and Vinyl Scratch are called, I’m going to need to head over to see them to get ready.

Babs: So ya plan on rocking the palace in a little bit?

Sweetie: Weellllll the song I chose for the ball isn’t going to be a super intense song, it’s still made by a band that generally does metal, but it’ll be one of their softer ones. I decided I would try to make my first ever solo appearance in front of an audience with something intent on evoking emotions rather then a bang your head kind of tune.

Babs: Yeah, that’s probably respectable. What’s the song?

Sweetie: Mother’s Soul from Stalliondust

Babs: Oooooh, that is a good one. Can’t wait to hear your singing voice, Sweetie. Ya obviously have a talent in music going by your cutie mark, so this will be great to see!

Apple Bloom: Ooo! Ah think ah see the palace staffer walking t’ the stage t’ announce the next performance!

Indeed, as Apple Bloom noticed the palace staffer once again goes up to the stage as the audience once again quiets down to let him speak.

Palace Staffer: Thank you, thank you. Our next performance includes backing instruments from Octavia and Vinyl Scratch. Who will joined by a young rookie singer by the name of Sweetie Belle, showing off her singing talent for the first time solo in front of a big crowd!

This intrigued many in the audience who were aware of Vinyl Scratch and Octavia but have never met Sweetie. Though for those who do know Sweetie, loud cheers could be heard. Especially from her sister and her parents.

Sweetie: Oh my gosh! I’m next!. Seeya soon Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and Babs! I need to get ready!

Scootaloo: Good luck, Sweetie!

Apple Bloom: Ya’ll do great! We know ya will!

((Story continues after the break))

Sweetie Belle quickly hops off her chair and rushes to wherever she can find Vinyl Scratch and Octavia. Eventually, she just manages to get to them before they were starting to walk behind the curtains on stage.

Sweetie: Hey! Vinyl! Octavia! I’m here!

Octavia: Hello, Sweetie Belle. Are you ready to debut your singing talent for the world to know?

Sweetie: Yes… I’m no longer shy about my singing. It’s time I finally put my front hoof forward.

Vinyl Scratch nods, and gives Sweetie an approving grin.

Octavia: That’s good to hear. By the way, you picked a great song. I know it’s not quite as intense as some of the ones you sang for us, but it may be a song that’s soft enough to endear your voice. And even if they’re surprised that you end up doing mostly more intense songs that aren’t to everypony’s taste, they can respect the range of your voice.

Sweetie: Thanks, Octavia

With that the 2 musicians, and the little aspiring singer all head backstage to take their places. Vinyl provides the machine that will play an instrumental of the song Sweetie sings, and Octavia provides a little extra symphonic metal elements into Sweetie’s choice of song. And of course, Sweetie on her own in the middle of the stage with a microphone. Soon, the curtain starts raising and the audience can see the three on stage. Claps are heard for the performance’s start.

Rarity: Good luck, Sweetie darling!

Sweetie smiles hearing the voice of her sister and takes a few heavy breaths. Before the song begins to play. Octavia already playing her instrument.

Mother’s Soul by Stalliondust ((To the tune of Angel’s Son by Sevendust))

Sweetie: Life is changing… annnnd…

I can’t… goooo on… withouuuut you…

Rearranging, annnnd… I will be strong!

I’ll stand byyyyyy you…

You were fighting… everyday…

Soooo hard to hide the pain…

I know you never said goodbye…

I had so much left to saaaaay…

(Sweetie puts her mouth closer to the mic to sing the first use of the chorus more quietly)

One last sooooong…

Given to a mother’s soooul…

As soon as you were gooone…

As soon as you were gooooone…

(Sweetie puts her mouth back from the mic, and starts to pick up the intensity as the song itself does)

I have a new life now…

I live through you!

What can I do?!

I feel so alone now…

I pray for you!

We still looove yooou!

You were fighting… everyday…

So hard to hide the pain…

I know you never said goodbye…

I had so much left to saaaaaaay…!

(The song picks up to it’s highest intensity)

One last soooong!

Given to a mother’s sooooooul!

As soon as you were goooone!

As soon as you were goooooone! Ooooh!

One last soooong! Ooooh!

I can’t believe, you’re gone!

Given to a mother’s sooooooul!

Iiiiii can’t beliiiieve!

As soon as you were gooone!

As soon as you were… gooone a ohhh a ohhh a

The song finishes, many of the audience’s mouth agape from Sweetie’s cover of the song. Soon claps are heard and they start spreading across the crowd until the entire crowd claps and starts cheering for the young singer. Not all were necessarily clapping, but that’s because instead they were emotionally moved by the lyrics for one reason or another. Many of the members of the M.I.L.F. club among them, being this is a song dedicated to a deceased mother, anyone in the audience who has a deceased parent, especially Applejack who took the lyrics to heart and is already wiping tears from her eyes. Starlight was still next to her, and is patting her on the back.

Applejack: *sniff* Such a-ah b-b-beautiful s-so-song… *sob* W-w-well done, S-s-sweetie B-belle… *sniff*

Starlight herself also tears up a bit from the song since while it’s known this is for a deceased mother. The lyrics could still somewhat apply to a missing one, and she still can’t rule out the possibility that her mother is dead anyway.

Sweetie Belle walks off the stage and is immediately approached by her sister and her fellow crusaders.

Rarity: That was amazing, Sweetie! You really gave the crowd a show!

Apple Bloom: We knew ya’ll would ace this!

Scootaloo: Yeaaaah! You rocked it!

Suddenly, another pony comes to approach Sweetie Belle. It’s Coloratura herself quite impressed with Sweetie’s talent.

Rara: That was a top-notch performance, Sweetie. you have a voice that I think the whole world will want to hear. In fact, if you ever feel like you’re ready to start making record deal. My place can be open to you some day, and I’ll be your sort of manager.

Sweetie: Wait.. you… as my manager?!

Rara: Not immediately of course, I think you still have a little bit of your childhood to have before you do. But say when you think you’re ready to start selling records in your teenage years or older.

Scootaloo: Kinda like just how it will still be a few years until I’m ready to become a trainee for the Waterbolts!

Sweetie: My gosh, Coloratura… this is such an honor… even if this is still some years away… you have no idea how happy I am that you recognize my talent… Even if we’re kinda getting into different genres. You’re mainly a pop singer right?

Rara: That’s true, but because I’m a pop singer doesn’t mean I can’t manage other types of singers. I started self-managing ever since I kicked Sven Gallop out, and I felt as I got comfortable I’d eventually get to helping other singers find a footing. And I’ll be a nicer manager then Sven ever will be.

Sweetie: Well then, yes! Of course I’d love you to be my manager when I’m ready to start my music career in full!

Rara: On a side note, I know the stallion who wrote the song you sang. He unfortunately lost his mother to an illness, and that song was dedicated to her. And he would of loved to hear your cover of the song. Perhaps some day, you’ll get to perform your cover again while he’s in the audience.

Sweetie: Yeah… I figured the song was about a deceased mother. But nice of you to tell me the real story behind the song’s making. And that would be cool to have the actual band’s writer and lead singer listen to my cover! But if it’s ok, I think I’d like to return to my table with my friends, I still very much appreciate reserving a spot for me at your studios. So thank you, Coloratura.

Rara: No problem, Sweetie. I can’t wait to see what comes next for your music career.

Sweetie Belle, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo return to the table they were sitting. Many tables they’re passing by with strangers waving to the young Sweetie, as it seems she’s made a decent amount of fans already. Babs Seed is still at the table and sees the group approach.

Babs: Great singing, Sweetie Belle! Ya did great up there.

Sweetie: Thank you very much, Babs!

Once they’re seated, they don’t get much time before another pony approaches. Though it’s a pony the Crusaders are very fond of: Cheerilee, their school teacher.

Cheerilee: Hello, Cutie Mark Crusaders!

Apple Bloom: Miss Cheerilee!

Scootaloo; Hiya!

Sweetie: I’m so happy to see you’re here!

Cheerilee: I’ve been having a pretty good time here, thanks for thinking of inviting me Sweetie. And also… you did a great job out there on stage. I’m very proud of you, Sweetie. I know one day you will make it big in the music industry.

Sweetie: Thank you!

Cheerilee: Also, I want to talk to Scootaloo a little bit

Scootaloo: Oh no.. am I in trouble for something?

Cheerilee: No, not at all. I just want to congratulate you on starting up the Waterbolts!

Scootaloo: Huh? How’d you find out about that? I don’t think I told you yet.

Cheerilee: Me and Spitfire are actually good friends! While talking to her, she told me all about what you did in Mount Aeris/Seaquestria

Scootaloo: Oh nice! I can’t join it myself yet, but you bet I’m going to continue to swim as much as I can until then!

Cheerilee: I’ve seen you swim sometimes in Saddle Lake, the School of Friendship’s moat, and the rivers in town! You are really fast in the water! You’ll no doubt be a star, once you’re old enough to get in the Waterbolts.

Scootaloo: Thank you, Miss Cheerilee!

Cheerilee: And now Apple Bloom, mind if I ask if you have any idea where your big brother is?

Apple Bloom: Big Mac? Ah think he’s on a table with his wife, Sugar Belle.

Cheerilee: Ah, of course. They are certainly a cute couple.

Sweetie: You’re not going to fight with Sugar Belle... Are you?

Cheerilee: What? Why would I fig- Oooooooh, do you still think I have romantic interest in Big Mac? We were just friends, granted, we were only acquaintances until your love potion shenanigans.

Sweetie: Well… you did still say one of the names you called him while under the effects of the potion, after you were cured.

Cheerilee: Oh hahahaha, me and Big Mac just decided to prank you girls at that moment.

Apple Bloom: Ah think only Sweetie really thought ya had feelings for him. Ah’d know if ya’ll were together after that Love Potion incident.

Scootaloo: Yeah, you fooled me with that prank at first, but over time it probably would of been more clear if you really did become special someponies for real at some point.

Cheerilee: Then I guess Sweetie Belle must be slightly holding on to a ship she once had for me. I remember when you were upset that I didn’t kiss Big Mac, and you popped out of the bush yelling “OH COME ON” *giggles*

Sweetie: Nuh uh… I tried to help Big Mac get with Sugar Belle too! Though… it is still a shame that you still don’t have a special somepony.

Cheerilee: Well, what if I told you why you never did that Hearts and Hooves Day so long ago? Besides the fact that love potions override everything in a pony’s mind order to hypnotize ponies into loving eachother and won’t necessarily make it likelier that the two ponies become special someponies after being cured.

Cheerilee moves on closer in order to whisper, and the 3 hold up their ears to hear.

Cheerilee: I’m not into stallions at all, I’m into mares. You had the wrong orientation the whole time!

Scootaloo: Oh! Oh! Oh! Just like my Aunts!

Apple Bloom: Lyra & Bon Bon too!

Sweetie: Oooooooooh, I see. Well… I’ll guess I’ll have to rearrange some things at home later then. Hehehehe…

Scootaloo: *rolls her eyes* Great, now she’s going to spend a whole night shuffling her shipping chart…

Cheerilee giggles

Cheerilee: Anyhow, I guess I won’t bother Big Mac just yet, if he’s on a little bit of a honeymoon with Sugar Belle. I can always see him later.

Apple Bloom: What did ya even want t’ see him fo’?

Cheerilee: Nothing all that special, just if I can ask him if he can reserve some Sweet Apple Acres apples sometime when we get back.

Apple Bloom: Ya’ll could o’ asked me that

Cheerilee: Yeah but I wanted a lot of apples, enough that it’d be hard for you to carry all by yourself

Scootaloo: Whatcha going to do with all those apples?

Cheerilee: Just stock back up many, many jars of applesauce back home. And maybe save some for slices and/or eating them normally.

Apple Bloom: Well, even if ya don’t get Big Mac at some point later. Me and Applejack can probably get ya what ya want.

Cheerilee: True, I suppose. I guess I’ll just get back to the table I was sitting at for now, who knows when that final performance is going to start after all.

Sweetie: All that’s left is Cheese Sandwich before the night finishes with some dancing. So yeah! What ever is left of the ball should be quite fun, though it almost certainly means this ball is nearly over.

Scootaloo: It’s been a pretty fun night! All parties come to an end eventually, but they saved some cool stuff for last with one of the best party ponies around, and then we’ll all get to dance!

Apple Bloom: Ah guess seeya, Miss Cheerilee! Thank ya’ll for being such ah great teacher fo’ us. Mind if we get ah hug from ya before ya go?

Cheerilee: Oh of course I will, anything for 3 of my favorite students!

Cheerilee lowers herself to the ground by sitting on the floor and hugs around the 3 fillies. And then head back to her table.

Meanwhile, back at the table of the M.I.L.F. club, Twilight’s had enough fun talking with the other mothers and getting Trixie’s mom to be a member too (Stellar Flare was chosen to make Dandy Lion recite the club’s oath)

Twilight: Well this was a lot of fun, all of you. But I think I’m going to head elsewhere now, if I don’t see any of you the rest of the night. Hope you had a wonderful time here

Windy: We absolutely have! And no problem, Princess!

Velvet: Of course, dear. You have a fantastic rest of the night!

Twilight walks off waving to all the other mothers and once Twilight’s far enough, they continue their family gossiping. Twilight herself ponders where to go next, and realizes she still hasn’t seen Celestia and Luna here. And she figured it was going to be important to inform Celestia of her plan with Spike and Malakhar to visit the spot where Spike’s birth mother died. She eventually finds the two Alicorn sisters on their own table and heads on over to where they’re sitting. Celestia sees Twilight approach and smiles.

Celestia: Hello, Princess Twilight. Thank you for inviting us, it’s been a fantastic time. And a decent amount of great performances.

Luna: I never knew Sweetie Belle had such a beautiful singing voice. That was wonderful to hear

Twilight: You’re welcome both of you, and yeah, Sweetie’s going to be a fantastic musician one day. Thee’s no doubt about that, after that performance. But I actually went to see you because I have something important to ask of you for tomorrow morning, Princess Celestia

Celestia: Oh? Do tell what it is.

Twilight: Remember when you told me the story about where you got Spike’s egg and where his birth mother died? I told the story to Spike 2 weeks ago, and he said at one point he wants to visit that cave the day after the ball. And I thought I’d ask you to be there since you could likely help show where it was. I guess it turns out Malakhar was also there at the time, and I may have him accompany us as well to give directions, but I still wanted to ask if you could still help us if we went to you in the morning to go see it.

Celestia: I’d be happy to lead you to the cave, and oh? Malakhar was there too? Interesting, he must of been the teenage colt that handed me the egg back then. He did look familiar when I saw him, but he’s certainly a lot bigger then he was then. Does Spike perhaps wish to have a moment of silence to mourn his birth mother?

Twilight: Well, probably not quite on the same level as others. But he does want to pay his respects, especially if everything in your dream came true, she’s very much responsible for the path our lives took. Even if we can’t speak to her, it’d at least feel respectful in that way

Celestia: Completely understandable, I along with Malakhar will take you and Spike to the cave in the morning. But first, how has your night gone? Any interesting things happen for you?

Twilight: Besides enjoying the performances, I guess the night started with me and my friends telling each other what happened in our individual inviting trips. Including myself telling most of what you told me about Spike’s egg and Sunset Shimmer to my friends. But after that, I met up with my Canterlot friends. And sometime during all that, the Prince of Saddle Arabia, Theandri the 2nd surprised Moondancer as we were talking. And absolutely swept her off her hooves, kinda literally. They’re currently still on their first date as of this very moment.

Celestia: Awwwww, that’s so adorable!

Twilight: Though that’s not even the only thing about this, at some point… Moondancer called me to head on over where they were… and weirdly enough in a plan the Prince told Moondancer to do… Moondancer confessed… that she had a crush on me as far back as when we were teens.

I didn’t even know she was Bisexual, I guess that was because she still mostly preferred looking for stallions. But I guess I became an exception, it somewhat makes me feel even more bad for not even saying goodbye before you sent me to Ponyville. I think Moondancer understands that saving the world, and freeing your sister was in the grand scheme of things more important then her party, but it nonetheless hurt her pretty bad since she had planned of finally gathering the courage to tell me. I likely only would of said I don’t feel the same way, but because I didn’t go at all. A part of her never really got an answer, so she had to know what I would of said, so she could completely move on.

Celestia: Wow… If only I had known that long ago, even if the result would have been the same… that you don’t have the same feelings for her… Moondancer was still one of the students at my school, I would of gladly personally given her the chance when there was time after Luna was freed. No pony’s heart should be left with an unanswered heart for a decade

Twilight: But at least she now has the Prince. I can already tell they’ll be a close couple, Theandri II risked giving up Moondancer if hypothetically I wanted a relationship with her now, and Moondancer felt like she preferred to satisfy her long-lasting feelings towards me. An act of kindness that no doubt Moondancer will never forget.

Celestia: Certainly something that’s somehow heartwarming, but also a little heartbreaking at the same time. Good to see both the Moondancer and the Prince happy. I’m sure the Sultan and the Sultana are also pleased they may possibly know who becomes Sultana when they step down.

Twilight: Haha, believe me I saw them celebrating from their balcony when their son and Moondancer’s date started.

Celestia giggles

Celestia: Good for them, but now… anything else Twilight?

Twilight: Well all that’s else that happened is I met and joined a club of other mothers of Equestria that was co-founded by my own mom, and includes many of my own friend’s mothers

Celestia: Ah… that does sound quite cute, thanks for sharing how your night’s been.

Twilight: It’s pretty close to the end isn’t it? Only one more performance, then a moment to dance and then either anyone here is brought back home or they stay in the palace rooms for the wedding in 3 days.

Celestia: Indeed, but everyone’s certainly got their slice of fun here.

Twilight: It was good to talk to you once again, Princess. I think I’m going to head back to the table I was at originally to be with my friends and Spike again for the rest of the night. But I’ll see you again soon tomorrow morning to go to that cave.

Celestia: Have yourself a good rest of the night, Twilight. And yes, I shall see you in the morning.

Twilight heads out to the table she started at during the night, as the royal ball etches closer to the end.

UP NEXT: Chapter 19: The Royal Ball, Part 7 - The Taste Of Fresh Dough On The Tray

8 notes · View notes

bi-bard · 4 years

Text

Long Forgotten Past- Arthur Pendragon Imagine (Merlin)

Title: Long Forgotten Past

Pairing: Arthur Pendragon X Reader (I tried to make this gender neutral but if I slipped up, I’m sorry)

Requested: Nope...

Warning(s): Mentions of past abandonment and memory loss

Summary: Someone made a decision that changed (Y/n)’s life forever. Now things are changing and the truth will be revealed. A visitor coming to Camelot makes sure that the truth comes out and (Y/n) learns more in a day than they had in forever.

Author’s Note: I have had this sitting in my drafts for so long! This was originally a musical prompt but I drifted very far from that original idea... whoops!

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“Merlin, let go of my wrist,” I hissed as he dragged me through the halls of the castle.

“No, this is important,” he replied, continuing to drag me along.

“Merlin,” we heard someone shout behind us. Merlin stopped with an angry sigh, tuning around to face Arthur. “Hello, (Y/n).”

“Hello, Arthur,” I smiled.

“Merlin,” Arthur turned his attention to the boy that was still grabbing onto my wrist. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“I need to speak to Gaius and it’s important that (Y/n) is there,” Merlin explained. “You can make me do any chores you want afterwards.”

“(Y/n), are you alright,” Arthur touched my arm gently.

“I’m fine,” I said with- what probably looked like- a dumb smile. He nodded before waving us off. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he replied.

“God, you two are pathetic,” Merlin muttered once Arthur was out of earshot and you had continued following him to see Gaius. “He is absolutely in love with you.”

“No, no he is not,” I insisted. We had this discussion all too often. Merlin had this idea that Arthur loved me... which wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Gaius,” Merlin shouted as opened the door of their room. “I’ve discovered something.”

“What is it,” Gaius asked, stepping away from whatever potion he was making.

“There’s a king missing his child,” Merlin explained. “His wife died when the kingdom was attacked and the child disappeared.”

“Merlin, where is this going,” Gaius asked. I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms.

“(Y/n) is that child,” Merlin exclaimed.

“What,” Gaius and I shouted at the same time.

“Is it impossible,” Merlin asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“You have no memories from before... about eight years old,” Merlin added. “You know that your parents didn’t give birth to you. Why can’t you even think that this is a possibility?”

“Gaius,” I turned to look at the old man. “Please tell him that he has lost it.”

“Well...,” Gaius started.

“Gaius,” I shouted.

“We need to tell Uther that there’s a chance,” he continued. “The only one who could confirm this is the man who is potentially your father.”

“You’re kidding,” I shook my head and looked down.

“Come with me, we’ll speak with him before his meeting with the knights,” Gaius said, motioning for Merlin and me to follow him.

“We’re doing this right now,” I asked. I was scared. I shouldn’t have been scared. None of this was possible. They both nodded. “Okay.”

“Sire,” Gaius said as we all walked into the throne room. “I have an important issue to discuss with you.”

“Make it quick, Gauis, I have a meeting soon,” Uther replied.

“You may have heard about King Rowan,” Gaius explained. “He lost his wife when their kingdom was attacked and his child seemed to disappear at random. Merlin and I have reason to believe that we’ve found his child.”

“Really,” Uther looked stunned. “His child has been missing for almost fifteen years. Who do you believe it is?”

“(Y/n),” I straightened my spine when Uther looked at me when Gaius said my name. “The only person who can confirm that is King Rowan.”

“I’ll have someone go and deliver a message to him,” Uther promised, walking over to us. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “It should only take a few days for him to arrive. We’ll find out the truth.”

“Thank you, Sire,” I said, nodding before going to leave. I still had work to get done... even if my thoughts were in a mess now.

**A Few Days Later**

I ran through the hallways once Gwen and Morgana finally let me go. They had insisted on making sure I looked my best when my potential father showed up. I understood why but it made me even more nervous.

I only stopped when I was right outside the doors to the throne room. The guards at the doors gave me nods that I think were supposed to comfort me. I nodded back and they opened the large doors for me.

“This is (Y/n),” Uther said as I walked in. Another man was standing there. That must have been King Rowan.

The room was completely silent. I stood in the middle of the room, scared out of my mind. King Rowan walked over slowly. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

“Your necklace,” Rowan said. I touched in out of instinct. It wasn’t much. A single charm on some string. But I had always had it. “It belonged to my wife. She told me to give it to my child. It was her last wish on her deathbed.”

“That... That means...”

“(Y/n),” King Rowan pulled me into a tight hug. I felt him shaking. I let tears fall from my eyes. “My child.”

“Father,” I mumbled. I stepped away after a minute, trying to wipe my eyes so I could look presentable. “Why can’t I remember that time? I would’ve been old enough to have memories.”

“That was my doing,” he looked down. “I had a warlock wipe the first ten years from your mind. I didn’t want you to hold onto that pain. Now that you’re here, we can find a way to restore them.”

“Gaius,” Uther said. “He would be able to fix this, yes?”

“I could certainly try, Sire,” Gaius nodded. I turned around and hugged him.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” he replied before stepping back to look at everyone. “(Y/n) will need to stay in my chambers and I will need to be able to work with her in private.”

“Of course,” Rowan nodded. He gave me one last hug before following Uther, who was offering him a tour of the castle. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Of course,” I nodded. Everyone had left the room except for Gaius, Merlin, and Arthur.

“I told you so,” Merlin said. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Merlin,” Arthur warned. “One more word, you’ll be sleeping in the stables.”

“Sorry,” Merlin held his hands up. He moved over to hug me. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“Gaius and I will go off to prepare for... whatever is going to happen,” Merlin said before following Gaius out of the throne room.

“So, you’re royalty,” Arthur said after the door shut behind them.

“Apparently,” I looked down. I was caught off guard when he hugged me and twirled me around. “What is it?”

“This is the best news,” he replied. “This is perfect.”

“Why is it so perfect?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” he shrugged with a smirk before kissing my forehead. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” I gave him a nervous smile before heading off to see Gaius and Merlin.

I walked through the door, fiddling with my hands. My stomach was full of butterflies and I was scared that I would actually throw up. Merlin gave me a comforting smile once he saw me shifting from one foot to another.

“Come lay down,” Gaius said. I nodded and sat on the cot that Gaius had.

“How is this going to work,” I asked.

“Well, I’m going to give you this potion,” Gaius held up a bottle. “It should start bringing your memory back but it will cause you to fall asleep because the process of regaining memories can be...”

“Overwhelming,” I completed his thought. He nodded. “Have you done this before?”

“Never had to,” Gaius replied, kind of shrugging at me. I let out a heavy sigh. “It’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” I shook my hands out before holding one out to take the bottle from him.

I shifted so I was laying down, then took a huge gulp of the potion. I winced at the flavor as Gaius took it from me. My wincing stopped as I started feeling drowsy, my eyelids struggling to stay open. After what could’ve been seconds, I was falling asleep.

**Time Skip**

I slowly blinked as my brain became less and less cloudy. I rolled my neck before moving to sit up on the cot. I jumped a little when I saw how many people were there... just looking at me.

“Hello,” my father said softly, sitting next to me. I smiled at him. “I know this is going to sound a little silly but... can you tell me the name of your mother?”

“My mother’s name was Aleida,” I replied, my eyes filling with tears. “She was killed by a neighboring kingdom when I was eight. And I just forgot her.”

“No, no, no,” my father hugged me, rubbing my back. “You did nothing wrong. I am so sorry. I am so sorry for everything.”

“May I have a few minutes,” I asked. “I just want to collect my thoughts.”

“Of course,” my father nodded, moving to stand and guide everyone out.

Once the door closed, I felt all of my emotions truly come out. I was scared and I was confused. I placed a hand over my mouth as I cried. Almost eight years of lost memories came crashing back in less than a minute. I couldn’t sort through all of my thoughts.

Whether or not I understood what was going on, my tears eventually stopped. I finally stood from the cot and walked towards the door. Everyone was waiting just outside.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just needed to pull myself together.”

“You’re alright,” Arthur stepped forward and touched my shoulder. I smiled at him.

“Merlin, I believe you and I have some work to finish up, don’t we,” Gaius asked. Merlin nodded, a very smug smile on his face as they walked back into Gaius’ chambers.

“Rowan, I believe we have a deal to discuss,” Uther announced. “Would you like to go discuss the matter?”

“Of course,” my father replied, walking towards the throne room.

“So,” Arthur said slowly. “It’s true.”

“It’s true,” I chuckled. “So, you can tell me why this was such great news.”

“Well,” he looked down for a moment. “I just want you to know that I love you.”

“Oh,” I froze up for a moment. “As in you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a small smile. “I didn’t want to say anything because of the stupid rule about royals not being with people that aren’t also royals... but this was the best stroke of luck because now no one can do anything to you if I was to say anything... which I did.”

“I am very happy that I do know,” I replied. I glanced around the nearby hallway before leaning up and kissing his cheek. “Let’s go see what our dads are so adamantly discussing.”

“Alright,” he nodded, holding his arm out so I could wrap mine around. I leaned on his shoulder while we walked down the hallway. It was nice. This was a definitely a nice moment.

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

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#merlin imagine #merlin fanfiction #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #character imagine #character fanfiction

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fieryfantasybooklover · 3 years

Text

Scythes And Stories Chapter 3 - A Sinking Ship

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

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

“Interesting? What do you mean, interesting?” Ariadne fired back, pulse pounding and palms sweating. “There’s no possible way you are here for my benefit, so that inevitably means you’re here to kill me.”

“You are clever, aren’t you? Well. You needn’t worry. I have no plans to harm you.” the girl said, in almost a murmur. It was at this moment that the girl took the final step and closed the space between them. Why is she doing this? And, more importantly… why am I letting her?

Lifting a leather clad hand, the girl traced one finger down Ariadne’s cheek. “What are you doing?” Ariadne whisper shouted, very aware of how she hadn’t made any attempt to move even an inch. “It’s very rare for one of you to be alive at this point.” the girl said, almost contemplatively. “You say you have no plans to hurt me? Well, I cannot say the same. Not after everything you’ve done. And yes, I do know who you are. You’re the Lady of Death, the famous assassin.” the other girl’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly with surprise before the mask fell down again.

“Yes, that is my title. But it is not my name. My name, Princess Ariadne, is Anna.”

In the kingdom of Luna, far across the ocean, two princes kiss. Happily, softly, content and free in their love. “Now, Alastair. You know we mustn’t dawdle much longer. The Council is expecting us.” the boy named Thomas said, fake but cheerful chiding in his eyes.

“And you know that I couldn’t give any fewer fucks then I already do about the Council’s impossible scheduling.” Alastair replied, chuckling. “Oh come on now, you. You cannot mean that? They are your friends, your family.” Thomas said, grabbing Alastair’s hand and trying to lead him towards the door out of their bedroom. “I know what I said.” Alastair replied, allowing himself to be dragged, mischief and love in his eyes. Rolling his eyes and sighing, Thomas flung open the door and they took off running down the hallway, hand in hand, giggling at their recklessness and happy to be where they were.

“Now, onto the topic of Solis.” Councilmaster Nicholas droned. “They are rapidly losing money from the royal coffers, so they will need to increase the uptake within the next few weeks…” Alastair snuffled a snort, expertly dodging Thomas’s halfhearted glare. “Thomas? Alastair? What do you have to say on this matter?” Nicholas asked, eyebrows raised with a smile of his own present. “I believe if Solis wishes to stay out of bankruptcy, they must look to other, different places.” Thomas said, carefully phrasing what he said. The council’s chatter resumed, and Alastair and Thomas made eye contact again. They need to get their heads out of their asses and grow up you mean. Alastair said silently, his face appropriately blank but eyes dancing. Yes, my love, that is in fact what I mean. I just do not prefer to receive another lecture from the Councilmaster telling me to be respectful. An evil tilt to his mouth, Alastair sent another silent message. You’re boring, but I do love you so I suspect I must endure. Affectionate looks on both boy’s faces, they tuned back into the conversation. This resolve did not last long, and soon thoughts drifted to laughter and wind and shining silver moonlight.

Steel clanged and clashed as James and Cordelia sparred in the training courtyard. Both stubborn to the point of death, neither was wielding, and the fight was heating up. Dodging and covering, shielding and stabbing, the two fought. Onlookers were gathering. Cheering to the sky, bets were placed and laughter heard on who the winner would be.

A few minutes later, it was declared. Cordelia won, taking advantage of James's split second slip up. “No hard feelings, of course?” she shot across to him, eyes still glowing. “Of course, my Daisy. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Though, of course, you were always too good for me.” James replied, taking a gulp of water and sticking his tongue out at Cordelia. Laughing, she punched him on the shoulder. “Stop that talk this instance, or I shall turn you into a tapestry.” she said, face schooled into an expression of mock sternness. “Whatever is happening here?” a voice called from the entrance to the sparring ring.

“They’re sparring, dumbass.” another voice replied.

“I am aware of that. I do know what a sparring ring is, despite what you may think.” the first voice replied, exasperated but affectionate.

Turning, Cordelia and James found the source of the commotion - Alastair and Thomas. The two were arguing back and forth, but it could not be clearer that they were desperately in love.

Laughing, James strode towards them, Cordelia close behind. “What brings you here on this fine day?” James asked, stopping in front of them with a friendly grin in place. “We’ve just come from a Council meeting.” Thomas replied, fatigue in his features. “Apparently, things in Solis are continuing to heat up.” Alastair chimed in, features animated. “I do wonder which minority they will attempt to lobby behind them next.”

“Alastair. You need to count yourself lucky I agree with you or I would be forced to reprimand you.” Thomas replied as Cordelia snickered. “I’m absolutely terrified.” Alastair drawled, also laughing. “Do leave my brother be, Thomas. He is right! And what will you do? Exploit your crown prince privileges?” Cordelia said earnestly, innocence far too pure to be believable shaping her face.

“Be reasonable, Daisy. We all know he will not do that.” James interjected, his teasing voice making an appearance.

“You are all heathens. Why do I associate myself with you.” Thomas muttered.

“Because I’m your sister and you love me, and me and my husband are respected warriors of your kingdom.” said Cordelia

“Because I am your brother in law and you are bound to.” added James

“Because I’m the love of your life.” smirked Alastair

“You’ve just proved my point.” Thomas said again under his breath, but he barely made it a few more moments before he burst into laughter, the charade falling. “What would I do without you three?” Thomas asked, hastily adding “That was rhetorical!” before anybody could jump in with another witty quip.

Blood on the stones. Blood, splashing down. Two hooded figures, faces hidden from view, muttering to each other. “Is that everybody in the house?” one asked, glancing around the room. Christopher was peeking out from a crack in the cabinet he’d slipped inside. Upon looking out, he felt some sort of twisted relief he’d managed to hide in here in time. His sister Anna was gone. “I miss her already.” Christopher thought miserably. “It should be.”

“The report mentions two children. Where are they?”

“Who knows. Away at a friend’s perhaps? Out playing? Either way, they’re not…” the taller figure drifted off, and Christopher froze, trying his best to not even breathe. The next few seconds passed in flash and then the cabinet was open and he was out in the harshly glowing and vivid scarlet spattered room. “Well well well. What do we have here?” the other person asked, curiosity in their voice. Christopher said nothing, glaring at them both. “This must be one of the kids. Where the girl is, I don’t know.” the taller one said, also appraising Christopher. “She doesn’t matter anymore.” the other said sharply before bending down to meet Christopher’s gaze. “Would you like to come with us, young man?” he asked, not an ounce of kindness or sympathy in his voice.

“Thanks Christopher! Have a great day!” Rose called cheerily before exiting the room. Not wasting a second, Christopher turned off the light indicating the status of the shop, and moved to the back room. Christopher was the best apothecary in the castle, dealing herbs of all kinds and uses. He also, though it was not public knowledge, assisted with poison’s and interrogation when needed. He’d been here for 11 years, training to become an apothecary after being recruited by the castle managers. They thought he didn’t remember what truly happened. He did remember, and he’d harbored that flame and fury inside him like an ember against the chill. Always playing the nice guy, the sweet gullible apothecary. “I wonder what happened to Anna.” he’d wondered on more than one occasion. He’d never found her again, despite copious amounts of searching. “They will underestimate me at their own risk. But the day will come when they regret that.”

“Lucie! Are you almost done!” Matthew called from the next room. “Yes of course I’m almost done I am not that slow, and you know that.” Lucie shouted back, laughter in her voice. She shot into the room a few seconds later, kissing Matthew deeply before pulling away and dropping onto the chair. “And yes, before you have the opportunity to make a sarcastic comment, I am aware of why we need to hurry.”

“I surely hope it isn’t because you worry about what Reginald will think.” James said, seating himself besides Lucie. “Oh please. I couldn’t care less what he thinks. I married him for a farce and he knows it. However, I don’t think his pride will recover from knowing I chose you, a Ravens smuggler, over him.” Lucie snarked back, no true bite in her voice.

“Once again, I do not care about his pride. It needs a good beating every now and then.” Matthew replied before quickly sobering. “All jokes aside, we should hurry and try and get to our destination. If everything goes well, we’ll be meeting Anna there in just under an hour.” Nodding, Lucie stood. Matthew followed suit and they both headed out the door.

Standing in the middle of the opulent room, Anna took a deep breath. “I’m here to kill her. Why haven’t I completed my job yet? This is worrying.” Anna thought to herself. You haven’t because she is beautiful, and because you refuse to murder a caged creature a voice from even deeper within Anna whispered, softly but persistently. Shoving it down, Anna stepped back and hid her face from Ariadne briefly before turning back.

“You have exactly 15 seconds to explain why you’re here or I will scream for help.” Ariadne stated, beginning to pace the room. “I think we both know you won’t do that, but I will oblige you.” Anna replied, raising her eyebrows. “I am in fact supposed to kill you. I will not tell you why, though suffice it to say that me and my associates are attempting to stop your father’s meddlings. At this point I cannot claim I intend to kill you anymore, as I do that. I do however, intend to help you escape.” Saying nothing, Ariadne gestured for Anna to continue. Sensing the curiosity in her eyes, Anna hid a smile. Smothering the small bursts of admiration, Anna continued. “I am also going to assume your father told you nothing about this specific situation. I will say this bluntly. Solis is dying. It is a sinking ship. And you father and his Council are desperate for a lifeboat. So, he plans to kidnap you.” Anna, noting Ariadne’s quick shock and hastily continued. “Your disappearance will fuel the people. They will rally behind the crown and donate anything and everything they have… just to save the crown princess. He will take their money and use it for nothing good.”

“He would never…” Ariadne trailed off, and Anna could see the realization in her face. It came quickly, right after the knee jerk reactions of denial and anger. The king loved his daughter in his own way, Anna believed, but he would always put the kingdom first. “Your death will stop his plans, and stop him from using the weakness of discriminated against groups for his own gain. You can choose to believe me or choose not to, but regardless your choice remains the same. Stay here and vanish, or come with me and become, for the first in your lifetime, free.” making eye contact with Ariadne once more, Anna inhaled, sensing the beginning of something colossally larger than herself.

“So, princess. What will it be?”

#ariadne bridgestock #anna lightwood #christopher lightwood #matthew fairchild #james herondale #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #jordelia #arianna #MatthewXLucie #the last hours #shadowhunters #megans writing #tsc

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curewhimsy · 3 years

Text

Symphony Saga Resonate chapter 1

I was inspired!

Notes: This fanfic is like, a middle/high school-centric fic so my OCs are all middle/high school aged here (youngest= 12, oldest= 18)

Also everyone is gonna age by 6 years eventually

AO3 link

——————

Can a dream change the world?

Can a song awaken the soul?

Does our universe truly have limits?

Why am I asking all of these questions?

We all each have a story.

We all matter.

If we all join together, how big of a miracle can we create?

The story of Resonate unfolds...

———

Queen Rainbow’s Point of View

In a world where color was scarce... wonder was draining from people’s souls, and warmth was fading from their hearts. The warmth in their smiles were waning... And soon enough, they weren’t able to truly smile any longer.

This world... was called Monochrome.

Being the furthest planet in its solar system from the sun, Monochrome was already quite a lonely place. But everything froze over when Obsidian stepped to the throne.

Monochrome was a painfully boring place, filled with progressively more boring people. It got to the point where the most boring, bitter person of all would automatically be crowned as royalty.

Her name was Obsidian, and she became the Queen of Misery. She did not believe in fun, happiness, or love. Her heart was made of coal. When she breathed out, thick black smoke would fill the air, despite her never being a smoker.

Queen Obsidian’s very existence would always pollute the air with negativity and gloom that would make people lose hope. She was so boring, that her presence would transform sugary donuts into regular old bagels with nothing on them. She was so boring, that her royal fanfare was played on a single off-key kazoo. She was so utterly dull, that she even sent Planet Monochrome into a thousand-year-long ice age after telling one terrible joke.

But worse than all that combined, the Queen of Misery was a selfish, spiteful, and joyless person.

Nobody exactly knew why, but Queen Obsidian hated music... Possibly because of how positive and fun it could potentially be, not to mention the sheer raw emotion and vibes it could could convey.

One day, Queen Obsidian heard a song. It was awful. She hated it so much, that she ordered it to be sent to the Nowhere Of Permanent Erasure Void, or “NOPE Void” for short, where it would be deleted from our reality.

Queen Obsidian wanted to erase all the universe’s music from existence this way, and for people to never make or listen to it again. Ever.

Knowing that Monochrome barely had any worthwhile tunes to get rid of, Obsidian began to target the music on other worlds.

And what better place to start than the magical, colorful planet known as Whimsica?

Whimsica, a charming, fittingly whimsical world filled with magic... It may ideally be peaceful, yet we’ve been attacked by Monochrome for years just for being so idyllic. Apparently, our bright, rainbow colors that can be seen from space are an eyesore for them.

This is also where I come in.

My name is Queen Rainbow... and I’m the Queen of Whimsica. I’m only 16 years old, which is... actually pretty old for a monarch of Whimsica, believe it or not!

Whimsica’s monarchs are usually children nowadays! That’s because we have a childish kind of “whimsy” in our hearts and an arcane sort of innocence to see the world through rainbow-tinted lenses.

A long time in the past, Whimsica had a very strict older queen who forbid the royals, even the ones in the future, from ever befriending commoners.

That queen used a spell, so if a royal was caught being friends with a commoner, they would fall into a long slumber. The length of how long they would sleep corresponded to how strong the royal‘s bond was to the commoner.

Recently, the spell was broken, however! So now I can befriend and hang out with all the common folk I want. To be honest, being that kind of queen wasn’t so great, it was a little lonely, and I always hated feeling so unapproachable... and responsible!

Well, to tell the truth, the eldest of the three princess sisters actually does most of the work. 18-year-old Celestine is the responsible and proper eldest sister. Lunette, age 16, is the middle sister, and a bit mischievous. The youngest sister is 14-year-old Stelle, and she... well... is a bit of a problem child.

Anyway. I had proposed a new course of action against what Monochrome is trying to do. The princess sisters and I, along with Celestine’s best friend Nikamowin, and even the two royal anthromorph cats, Sparkle and Twinkle, have been using our magical powers the best we could to fight against Monochrome’s Queen and royal force, and the monsters they use against us.

But I still feel we need more help. We need the help of magical musicians.

I’ve been beginning to practice making music so I could harness its positive energy and make my songs into magic that can defeat Monochrome’s negativity. Nikamowin is also a skilled singer and can use songs to help us, but I still feel we need to power of more music.

So I assigned a job to Sparkle and Twinkle. Their job now is to look for passionate musicians with pure hearts, who are interested in joining our force to help save music for the entire universe...

———

Haku Yowane’s Point of View

Location: Earth

I zipped up my backpack to the faint scent of dust around the house, tied my shoes, wiped my long bangs from my eyes, and got ready to step out the door to go to school. Another gray day.

Even though I didn’t live with her, my world felt so empty now. My heart felt so hollow.

It was the little things.

Rain pattering on the roof... once a cozy and quaint sound... now just a gloomy and sad reminder.

An old notebook... once a source of joy and closeness... now just cold and distant.

A stuffed cat... warm and beloved... now even more well-loved, and irreplaceable.

All these things I saw right before I left my house to go to school reminded me of her.

My grandmother.

She passed away three weeks ago.

Right before I began opening my door, I looked back, and saw Snowbell, the plush cat Grandma gifted me long ago, eyeing me gently from my table.

I decided I couldn’t go to school without Snowbell. I couldn’t leave her alone.

I picked up the well-loved plush and hugged her gently and sadly, and made my way out the door with her.

Snowbell was special to me.

At the age of five, I was quite meek and lonely, with a reddish nose and wobbly knees. I would catch colds often, and constantly be sniffling, which was how I earned the nickname “Sniffles”.

I was a bit odd. I had strange habits such as pretending I were a cat, even lapping milk out of a bowl at snack time. I liked to draw pictures and play make-believe at recess. I didn’t like strangers or crowds.

In school, I was usually scared and overwhelmed. Once during indoor play time, I sat in my own little corner away from everyone and drew on the walls. When my teacher found the drawings I had drawn on the walls, I got scolded. I spent the rest of the day crying and sniffling, not understanding why I was yelled at.

That was when my grandmother decided my imagination was just too big for such a little girl, so she bought me a friend, a stuffed white kitten, to talk to.

My grandma told me that Snowbell was a special friend, and she was always there to listen. So when I was sad, I would hug and talk to Snowbell and felt I wasn’t alone.

Snowbell was there for me through the good days, and the many bad days... She was there when I graduated kindergarten. She was also there shortly after, when I was six years old, when my parents divorced...

Before my parents divorced, my brother Dell and I were very close. He was technically my half-brother. My father, who I was never close with, already divorced a former wife before marrying my mother. Dell was the son of my father and his former wife. His last name was Honne, his father’s last name. My last name is Yowane, my mother’s last name.

Dell and I would always play and sing together. Even though I was clumsy and fail at his games sometimes, he was very patient and would comfort me when I cried. Sometimes my dad would randomly yell at or scold me. When that happened, Dell would always stand up to my dad and protect me. Even when my parents were fighting and yelling so loudly that I got scared, Dell and I would hide together and he would comfort me. He was truly an amazing brother.

However, when my mother and father divorced, my father insisted on taking us with him. My mother refused to let him take us. There was a huge custody battle over us, and eventually, a heartbreaking compromise was made.

Dell was going to go with my father. I was going to stay with my mother.

I just wanted us to stay together. But in the end, we couldn’t.

One morning after sleeping in, I went downstairs to see around half the furniture in the house gone and my father outside in the moving van. My dad was about to leave. He left me without saying goodbye.

But Dell... He waited until I woke up so he could say goodbye before leaving. I cried with such intensity that he turned around. His face right then shocked me. He was seven years old... but had such a grown-up expression on his face... I had never seen such an look on his face before. So much pain... yet so accepting of his fate.

He hugged me one last time without any words, until I stopped crying. Once my tears stopped, he pat my head, and made his way out the door.

I never saw my brother, my best friend, ever again.

Two years passed. I turned eight years old. My mother, now single, talking to her sister, had an idea.

My mother’s sister had a daughter, who would be my cousin. My mom noticed that without Dell, I was very lonely lately. So she proposed to my cousin and I to meet.

My cousin’s name was Miku Hatsune. She was six years old at the time. The same age I was when my parents divorced. The first thing I noticed about Miku was how cheerful she was, and how accepting she was towards me. I quickly became friends with her, and even though she came over only around once a month and I only got to see her those times, we were really close friends.

The day we first met, we played in the backyard. I was still very shy and awkward at the time.

A butterfly landed on a flower nearby, and Miku urged me to try and touch it. I did, and the butterfly flew away.

I instantly burst into tears.

“Why?” I said, through my tears. “Why does everyone leave me? Like Dell? And my dad? Why...?”

“Don’t cry, Haku...” Miku pat my head to try to cheer me up. It reminded me of when Dell pat my head to say goodbye... it kind of calmed me down.

To cheer me up even more, Miku began singing me a song. She taught it to me, and I began to sing it with her.

We began to sing together, and soon enough, we were surrounded by butterflies. We began smiling and laughing. It was a great memory.

“Miku?” I looked at her fondly. “Promise me you won’t ever leave me, okay?”

“Okay!” Miku answered, smiling.

But one day, around three years later...

My mother called her sister as usual... and every single trace of her, her husband, Miku, and even Miku’s little sister Mizu, had vanished without a trace.

When I heard this, I was devastated. I began to wait a little while... but soon it became apparent that Miku and her family were gone... maybe in a freak accident or disappearance... and weren’t ever coming back.

I remember sitting under a tree, and just crying.

After that, I really only had my grandmother. My mom was always kind of distant and neglected me emotionally.

My grandmother, however, was warm and understanding. She was also very fun and always made me smile. She was the most magical person I ever knew, because she always told me amazing stories. Sometimes I wondered how she even thought of them. I always told her perhaps she should become a writer and make them into books.

I was inspired to become a writer myself because of her. I used many of her stories as inspiration, because I thought she needed a lot of recognition. She also always wanted to be a musician, and so did I, but I was always much too shy. My grandmother couldn’t pursue music because of her health condition and age, sadly.

Now that she’s passed, I think I will try to fulfill my grandmother’s dreams in homage to her.

Thinking of these memories may have left me sad... but I’ll at least always have the precious memories of these people in my heart, even though I may never see them again. In memory of them, may I live my every day to my fullest.

#symphony saga #symphony Saga resonate #symphony Saga: resonate #my writing #utau #vocaloid #whimsica #whimsica saga #oc #ocs #fic #life of pastell #writing

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lassostark · 4 years

Text

keep me close, love me most

“... and yet, here we are.”

“Hmm.”

It was the beginning of what Jaskier hoped would be a wonderful friendship.

Jaskier lies immobile on the four-poster bed, dried blood on his shirt and neck making the sight a bit macabre. He’s alive and healing, and it’s all that matters.

“A friend?” Yennefer asks, voice lilting in curiosity.

Geralt opens and closes his mouth, unable to give voice to an innocent question.

The tavern at the small town they’ve stopped in for the night could use a bit of cleaning, but despite the slightly dreary atmosphere makes up for the lively and, surprisingly, friendly crowd.

Jaskier’s been playing for hours, and regardless of the slight cramping of his fingers, he gives into his audience’s pleas and sings ‘Toss A Coin’ for the second time that night. Afterwards, when he’s finished collecting the coin he’s earned that night, he purchases two tankards of ale and brings it to the secluded corner where Geralt has been seated the entire time.

“Such a lovely crowd for a small town!” Jaskier states jovially as he sets down the tankard in front of the Witcher. He takes a long drink of the warm ale.

“Hmm.”

“Come now, Geralt. Even you have to admit that this town’s people are the friendliest we’ve encountered in... well, ever, frankly speaking.”

“Don’t you ever shut up, bard?” Geralt grumbles, even as he lifts the tankard to his lips and takes a long sip.

You’re welcome, Jaskier thinks with an inward eye roll.

Out loud, the bard replies, “As if I have a choice, my dear friend. I speak enough for the both of us. You’re not exactly the chatty type, eh?”

Geralt rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance, golden eyes focused somewhere over Jaskier’s left shoulder.

“Fuck off.”

“Stay here with Roach. I’ll be right back.”

“What? Like hell I am! I’m coming with you.”

Geralt growls. Jaskier scowls.

“No, you’re not. Stay the fuck here, Jaskier.”

“No,” Jaskier draws out the syllable as if he’s talking to a child. “I’m coming with you, damn it. I have that dagger you gave me and I know a bit of self-defense... ish. And I promise to stay far away from the action.”

“What good is a dagger and weak punch against a kikimore?” Geralt snarls. “You’d be dead before you can lift a finger.”

Jaskier scoffs. “Where in ‘I promise to stay far away’ did you not get, you grumpy wolf? What if something happens to you? You’re my friend. You need me to be there to help-”

“For fuck’s sake, Jaskier, I don’t need you!”

Stunned at the outburst, Jaskier gapes openly at Geralt with a hurt expression while Geralt pulls out the Cat potion. He drinks it in one go and then tosses the empty bottle back in the saddle bag.

Before Geralt disappears into the woods, he turns his head over his shoulder and regards Jaskier with a hard look. The bard snaps his mouth shut, a mixture of arousal and hurt and worry and fascination when he meets the Witcher’s black eyes.

“I’ll be back. Stay the fuck here and look after Roach.”

When enough time has passed and he’s certain that Geralt won’t hear him, Jaskier mutters under his breath, “Probably needs a good fucking, that one.”

Roach snorts.

“Calm down.”

“I’m sorry but who, of the two of us, got stabbed with a rusty knife? That’s right, me! I get to decide if I want to calm down or not!”

“If you had listened to me the first time and shut your mouth, you wouldn’t have been stabbed in the first place.”

“It wasn’t my fault that man was being incredibly rude! Damn whoreson deserved a beating.”

“You sure did.”

“Excuse me?! I was defending your honour, Mr. Geralt of fucking Rivia! Because you’re my friend! And this all the thanks I get? Sarcastic remarks as I bleed to death?”

“Don’t be dramatic. It hit your thigh, and it looks like it didn’t nick an artery. You’ll live.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring! Just, you know, one tiny thing - how the fuck am I supposed to walk now? You have that contract, after all. Unless you’re willing to let me ride on Roach.”

Geralt glares at the hopeful expression on Jaskier’s face.

“No.”

“But I can’t go with you in this state!”

“I know. You’re staying here.”

Jaskier splutters. “S-stay? Here?”

Geralt nods, looking a tad uncomfortable. “I can’t delay the job by staying here and babysitting you.”

Jaskier’s face turns red in anger and... something he doesn’t want to name right now because -

“Babysit?! I don’t need you to babysit me, Geralt! I’m a grown man.”

Something like relief passes over Geralt’s face before his expression becomes blank once again, much to Jaskier’s disappointment.

“Good. This room has been paid for the next few nights. You can meet me at the next town when you’re healed enough.”

Jaskier’s heart twinges as he stares unhappily at his friend. “You’re really going to leave me behind? Your very best friend in the whole world?”

Geralt exhales loudly as he turns to leave the room.

“Rest. I’ll see you at the next town.”

Jaskier doesn’t see him until a month later.

“Are you here alone?”

Jaskier’s in the middle of performing one of his greatest hits at a royal’s betrothal when he hears the simpering voice of one of the noblewomen present. One quick glance to the side confirms Jaskier’s suspicions that, yes, Priscilla is currently flirting (rather poorly, in his opinion) with Geralt, who’s dressed in finer robes compared to the last outfit Jaskier had dressed him in. And to say that his Witcher looks bored would be an understatement.

Jaskier continues to perform, but keeps one ear on the conversation happening. Not his fault it’s within hearing distance.

He hears Geralt hum disinterestedly.

Priscilla asks coyly, “Or are you here with someone else?”

Geralt grunts. “The bard.”

“Oh. You’re with Jaskier?” Yep, that sure sounds like disappointment.

Hah! Take that, you wench. You weren’t even good in the-

“Yes.”

Priscilla’s voice drips with fake sincerity when she simpers, “You’re quite the supportive friend.”

At this, Geralt snorts in amusement. “Not really.”

Jaskier almost missed a chord, but thankfully he was able to salvage it by improvising at the last second. His chest is heavy and constricts painfully after that, and Jaskier could only taste bile at the back of his throat for the rest of the night.

“Why is it when I’m in a pile of shit these days, it’s you shoveling it?!”

“That’s not fair...”

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

“See you around, Geralt.”

It was the beginning of the end of what existed between them.

Twenty-two years later, and Jaskier thinks there’s nothing left in his heart to give. Not that he’s not willing. He’s more than happy to give and give and keep on fucking giving. But he’s... he’s exhausted. He no longer knows why he’s held on this long.

That’s a fucking lie. He knows why.

Love is an addictive pill, they say. But when it’s unrequited (or unwanted, unneeded) it can be labeled as unhealthy. Lethal. Destructive.

His garroter, jury, and judge.

In all aspects, Jaskier lets Geralt go. But some twisted part of him, in his heart, he holds on.

Ciri eyes the bard singing his last tune for the night with curious eyes. Beside her, Geralt quietly sips his drink. When she glances up at the Witcher, Ciri nearly rolls her eyes at the intense, longing expression in Geralt’s golden eyes.

She hears the applause of the crowd at the tavern, and for a split second Ciri thinks she saw Jaskier look their way. Jaskier, who’s dressed in clothes that has seen better days. Jaskier, whose hair reaches above his shoulders, wavy and perhaps a little greasy.

Jaskier, the bard who left Geralt at the mountain top two years ago; the bard whom Geralt can’t stop talking about and pining over in the past year and a half she’s been traveling with him; the bard who wrote Ciri a ballad when she was a child (she’s still a child, but what innocence she may have possessed then is all but gone in the face of trauma she’s lived through), and one she’s dearly missed hearing.

Ciri’s eating the lukewarm stew when she hears more than sees Jaskier stop in front of their table. Carefully, slowly, she lifts her head up and meets dull blue eyes staring at them. There’s a pang in Ciri’s heart when she notes the lack of spark in the bard’s eyes.

Before Jaskier can open his mouth to speak, Ciri beats him to it.

“Fiona,” she introduces primly with a small upwards twitch of her lips.

Jaskier blinks down at her before he nods and bestows her a wink. “Lovely to meet your acquaintance, Fiona. I’m-”

“Jaskier, I know,” Ciri interrupts him with a grin, dinner forgotten for the moment. “I also know you went as Dandelion when I was still in... well.”

The bard blinks at her again, this time in surprise, before his eyes quickly swivel to Geralt’s. Geralt, who, upon a quick glance, is still staring intensely at Jaskier, jaw clenched and clutching the handle of the tankard with a tight grip.

Ciri observes, fascinated and curious, as Jaskier clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath as if to centre himself before meeting Geralt’s stare with a raised eyebrow.

“Geralt,” he greets stiffly.

To Ciri’s astonishment, Geralt flinches. But it’s such a subtle thing, nobody would’ve seen it unless you know the Witcher as well as she and Jaskier and Yennefer.

Geralt’s response is low, stilted, but laden with guilt. “Jaskier.”

This is the most entertaining thing Ciri’s witnessed, and she holds her breath as she waits for Jaskier to answer. Slowly, she spoons a few vegetables into her mouth as her eyes pass between the two.

Ugh, are men always this obtuse? Auntie Yennefer was right.

When neither speak after seconds pass, Ciri lets out an exasperated sigh and addresses the struggling bard.

“You’re all he could talk about in the past year and a half I’ve been with him,” Ciri starts. She ignores Geralt, whose head swivels to her like whiplash, his eyes wide.

“Ciri-”

She continues to address Jaskier who’s now gaping open-mouthed at her. “Geralt regrets what he said to you at the mountain. He also regrets not telling you that he does consider you a friend. He was just scared because he thought that once he acknowledges the vital role you play in his life, then you’ll decide to leave. I told him it was stupid of him to think that, and Auntie Yennefer agreed with me. Told him that breaking the djinn’s curse would be all for nought if he doesn’t seek you and apologise.”

“Ciri.”

“What?” Ciri almost snaps at Geralt, who looks a mixture of mortified and annoyed and fond. “You’ve had your eyes on Jaskier the moment we entered this place. Plus, you’ve been looking longingly at him the whole time, Geralt. It was either wait for another year for you to make a move, or I help you along.”

Geralt closes his eyes and breathes out through his nose. “Ciri.”

Ciri bites her lower lip, unsure now if she’s done the right thing. She casts a look at Jaskier, and she’s mildly surprised to see the bard fighting a grin, eyes bright with emotion and... tears?

“Sorry,” Ciri mumbles under her breath. Then she speaks at a normal level. “The staring was getting quite pathetic, though. And I felt sorry for you.”

“As do I,” Jaskier interjects gently.

Geralt whips his head to look up at the bard, and Ciri’s heart grows when she sees the sweet, exasperated look in Jaskier’s eyes.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says again, hope in his voice. At this point, Ciri is inclined to bang her head against the dirty table top. Men.

“This doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”

“I know.”

“I’m still pissed at you. Still very, very pissed.”

“I know, Jaskier.”

Despite the the stern tone, Jaskier’s still looking at Geralt with that same soft expression.

“You have a lot of groveling to do, Witcher.”

“I know, little lark,” Geralt says with a small smile.

Jaskier looks like he’s about to melt at the equally soft expression on Geralt’s face.

“You’re an idiot,” Jaskier mumbles.

Geralt’s smile widens. “And you’re my best friend.”

When Jaskier grins, even Ciri can tell it’s the brightest and happiest she’s ever seen the bard.

On another note, Ciri almost whoops in celebration because yes, Yennefer owes her a hundred coins now.

(Read on AO3)

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #this was supposed to be only 500 words #now it's 2.1k #wtf #couldn't sleep so i wrote #the witcher ficlet #my writing

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seanfalco · 4 years

Text

(More Than Just) Travel Partners - Part IV

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x f!Reader Word Count: 3.7k Rating: E Warning(s): Smut a/n: okay so, I promise this is a reader insert. There is a plot relevant reason why the reader is introduced with a name, you just have to find out why. :3

[ Masterlist ]

——

This was it, the hour of the king’s party.

Upon arrival at the palace you’d been surprised to find that even a humble minstrel such as yourself was to be treated like a guest, and you and Jaskier were shown to separate rooms to freshen up. Your stomach buzzed with anxiety as you checked your reflection in the large gilt framed mirror in your room.

Nerves about the party mixed with the lingering apprehension from your episode in the market the other morning until you were pacing the room, muttering positive affirmations under your breath in an attempt to calm yourself. The knock at the door startled you, but you were glad to see Jaskier standing there, a reassuring smile on his face.

“You ready?” he asked, his blue eyes flicking down to admire your new dress once more. “For the record, you look amazing, by the way.”

“We look amazing,” you insisted with a grin, admiring him in return. Suddenly you remembered the gift you had for him and swore under your breath, rushing back into the room, wanting him to wear it with his new doublet. “Hold on! Just a moment!”

Jaskier followed, watching you curiously as you rummaged through your belt pouch, left on the bed.

“Forget something?” he teased.

“Close your eyes,” you instructed instead, giving Jaskier a level look when he merely stared at you in confusion. “Come on we’ll be late. Close your eyes,” you repeated.

Sighing dramatically Jaskier obeyed, an amused half grin playing at his lips. “What are you going to do to me?” he asked coyly, wriggling his eyebrows though his eyes stayed closed.

“I’m going to prick you with this pin if you don’t stop moving,” you grumbled, fastening the small silver brooch you’d picked out at the market to his lapel. “There,” you breathed, stepping back. “You can open your eyes now.”

Jaskier’s eyelids fluttered open and his hand went to his collar and he turned toward the mirror. “You got this for me?” he murmured in disbelief, leaning closer to his reflection to get a better look.

“I saw it at the market and thought of you,” you replied simply.

When Jaskier didn’t respond you stepped up to his side, your reflection joining his in the mirror. “What’s wrong?” you asked, afraid you’d upset him somehow.

“Nothing.” He grinned, turning to you. “It’s just, I can’t remember the last time someone gave me a gift just for the hell of it. Thank you.”

You could already feel your cheeks heating. “Compared to how much you spent on this dress, it’s really nothing,” you murmured.

“Well I don’t think it’s nothing,” Jaskier said, hesitating before leaning forward quickly to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

Without giving you time to react properly besides pressing your fingers to the place his lips had been moments ago Jaskier hooked his arm with yours and pulled you out into the hall, laughter in his voice.

“Come on, they’re gunna start without us if we don’t hurry!”

——

The throne room was resplendent in gold and royal purple with candles glittering on every surface and you couldn’t help but gape at the sight. Courtiers and revelers filled the long tables arranged around the great hall, decked in their finest garb and jewels, and you were somewhat surprised to find you blended in quite well in your fine new dress. The rich smells of the different dishes laden on every table had your mouth watering and you chewed your lip as you decided which you wanted to try first.

Catching Jaskier watching you with an amused smile you leaned in so he could hear you over the hum of voices. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” he teased dryly. “If you don’t pick your jaw up off the floor you may trip over it.”

“Rude,” you gasped, elbowing him in the ribs, unable to hide your smile as he winced.

Taking your place with the other musicians you eyed them as you began softly tuning your fiddle. You were the only woman in the group.

There was one bard that stood out to you above the rest, wending his way across the room, lute in hand, toward the royal table to speak with the king. He was a peacock of a man, his doublet richly coloured and the silk hat on his golden curls bore a ridiculously long feather.

“Let me guess, that fellow over there is the friend you met with yesterday?” you asked Jaskier. He glanced up from his lute, his gaze following yours.

“Yeah, that’s him, Monteforte,” he grumbled darkly. “At least Valdo Marx isn’t here,” he added under his breath as the King rose from his seat to address the crowd, welcoming them and calling for the food to be served. As he sat, the bard Jaskier had called Monteforte stepped out onto the floor with a flourish, much to Jaskier’s chagrin, his lips twisting with disdain during the man’s performance.

After a couple songs Monteforte swept his arm out, gesturing toward yourself and Jaskier. “Your Highness, I’d like to introduce my old friend, Jaskier and his lovely companion, Miss Aevryn.”

Jaskier threw you a shocked glance before composing himself and swaggering over to Monteforte. As you followed, trying to look half as self-assured, you noticed the way the guests tittered excitedly when Jaskier took the floor; several ladies’ gazes following him with interest as they spoke in hushed tones behind their silk fans.

Curtsying to the King to match Jaskier’s bow you positioned your fiddle under your chin and began to play on his count. Closing your eyes you focused on your breath and the feel of the strings beneath your callused fingers; the sound of the music and Jaskier’s voice filling the hall. Soon people were getting up to dance and the overall feel of the space was becoming more familiar to you, chasing away the nerves that threatened to overwhelm you.

After several songs Jaskier turned the floor over to you and you nodded to the rest of the musicians to back you up, playing the first notes of a lively hornpipe; looking to show off a little. Surveying the crowd when you could spare the concentration, you managed a smile and a wink for the King, who looked absolutely tickled, before finding Jaskier. You half expected him to be surrounded by a handful of young countesses or the like, but to your surprise he stood off to the side speaking with Monteforte, their eyes flicking to you as the other bard clapped Jaskier on the back.

‘What’s that all about,’ you wondered, dying to know just what the two were talking about.

Bowing to the King after several more songs you headed straight for your table and downed a glass of wine before searching the room once more for Jaskier. The revelers were everywhere now and it took several minutes for you to pick him out, circled by a group of noblewomen. Scowling, you poured yourself another glass, thinking to numb the pang of jealousy in your chest with more wine when Monteforte approached, his gloved hand extended.

“I’ve been waiting all night for this chance, my dear, and I’ll be damned if I don’t take it before someone else snatches you up. Won’t you please honour me with a dance?”

Taken aback you stared at his hand before glancing back to Jaskier, whose gaze met yours across the room. Clearing your throat you nodded, setting down your goblet and taking the bard’s hand. Joining the other dancers Monteforte spun you and you fell into step with him easily.

“Julian was right about you, you know,” he murmured cryptically, flashing you a charming smile.

“Julian?” you asked, confused.

“Forgive me, Jaskier,” he clarified with a chuckle.

“And what was he right about?” you asked, watching Jaskier out of the corner of your eye.

“That it would be a travesty if you were not in attendance tonight,” Monteforte replied smoothly.

“What do you mean?”

“Those were the words he used as he begged me for an invitation for the two of you. I must admit I was rather surprised that he was more worried about making sure you should be in the spotlight than himself. I’ve known Julian for a long time and believe me when I say that this is a first for him. I’d say he cares for you rather deeply. He hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you all night, you know?”

Monteforte smiled knowingly as you fought for the words that were caught in your throat.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” he announced as Jaskier appeared at your side looking flustered, a frown creasing his forehead.

“Okay okay, that’s enough of that,” he exclaimed shooing the other bard away. “I’m cutting in now.”

Monteforte merely smiled as he bowed to you and backed away; the amused look in his eyes speaking volumes.

“Hey, he didn’t say anything, oh I dunno, inappropriate to you, did he?” Jaskier asked, a touch defensively and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“No,” you gasped with mirth as he spun you across the floor. “We talked about you actually.”

“Me?” Jaskier nearly stumbled, muttering something about loose lipped cads under his breath.

“Why did you tell me that Monteforte invited us to play tonight when he made it sound like you begged him for the honour? Is that why you didn’t want to meet him initially?”

The more questions you asked the more uncomfortable Jaskier appeared.

“I told him not to tell you,” he grumbled under his breath, glowering across the room at the other man. Turning back to you he sombered. “I”m sorry… I wanted to surprise you with this, and yes, I didn’t exactly want you to see me abase myself for this opportunity,” he admitted.

“He said you did it for me,” you murmured, watching his face carefully.

Jaskier’s eyes met yours as the music stopped.

“I did. I would do anything for you.”

The words were so soft you almost didn’t catch them as the next song began and the other dancers moved around you as you stood still in the middle of the floor. Overwhelmed with affection you did the first thing you could think of, leaning in to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

“Oh, Jask. Thank you.”

——

Jaskier sat down heavily on the edge of his bed as you took a swig from the bottle of wine you’d taken with you once the party had finally wound down. Giggling, you handed him the bottle before plopping down next to him.

“That was so amazing,” you exclaimed, replaying the evening over in your head, still in awe of everything you’d gotten to experience. Jaskier stiffened next to you as you leaned into his side, but didn’t move, instead offering you the bottle back.

Feeling slightly tipsy, but not yet drunk you shook your head, not wanting to worry about a hangover in the morning. Shrugging, he brought the wine to his lips for another long drink.

“So,” you mused, warm and slightly uninhibited; the words falling from your lips without filter. “You seemed a bit jealous when Monteforte asked me to dance.”

Jaskier choked on the wine, quickly pulling the bottle from his mouth to cough. “Wha -- no!” he spluttered, setting the bottle on the nightstand and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I certainly, was not, jealous,” he remarked haltingly.

A coy grin crossed your face. “I dunno, you extricated yourself from that group of ladies rather quickly in order to steal me away from your rival,” you pointed out.

Jaskier cleared his throat, not quite looking at you. “And I suppose you weren’t jealous either that I was surrounded by beautiful women all vying for my attention?”

“Nope, not at all,” you quipped, though your voice came out tenser than you planned.

“...Aev,” Jaskier sighed, his expression sobering. “How long are we going to keep up this farce?”

“What farce?” you asked, voice cracking, and in that moment you wished more than anything you had the bottle of wine back.

“That we’re not crazy for each other.”

“Jask…” You couldn’t remember leaning in, closing the already thin gap between Jaskier and yourself, but as your eyes flicked up to his you realized just how close you were and suddenly you hesitated; wanting so badly to just give in.

What’s stopping you? A voice in your head whispered.

I’m afraid, you whispered back. Afraid of trusting, only to get hurt again.

But think of what you’re missing if you don’t even try? The voice replied, giving no quarter. We both know you want this. Have wanted it for a long time now.

“Aevryn?” Jaskier breathed, his lips so close to yours and you shivered at the warmth of his breath against your skin. Closing your eyes you pulled away though every fibre of your being screamed in protest.

“I can’t.”

Your voice came out more like a strangled sob and you pushed off the bed, the urge to run growing.

“Why not?” Jaskier asked, following you to your feet. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh Gods, no!” you exclaimed, looking at him and then and knowing it was a mistake.

“Then why?” The crack of desperation in his voice was too much and you shuddered.

“Because if I kiss you now, i won’t be able to stop,” you whispered.

“Then don’t stop.”

Jaskier’s plea broke what little restraint you had left and you fell into his arms, your lips colliding.

The whine that left your throat was quickly swallowed as Jaskier deepened the kiss and you eagerly gave in, pulling him closer, stumbling back toward the bed as his hands roamed your body. Your head swam at the intensity behind his kisses and you tugged at his open doublet in a feverish haste to undress him.

Spinning you suddenly Jaskier tilted you back and a gasp burst from your lips as you fell to the bed and he shucked off his jacket, climbing over you to resume where he’d left off kissing you thoroughly. The soft moans and whimpers he managed to elicit sounded foreign to your ears, but all you could think was that you wanted more.

Desperately your hands went to his undershirt, fingers fumbling with buttons until the light fabric fell open, baring his chest, and you ran your fingers over the dark exposed hair. Humming into your mouth with pleasure at the feel of your hands on him Jaskier ran a palm up the outside of your leg, pushing up the tulle of your skirt and massaging your soft skin as his body pressed you further down into the mattress.

Your bodies nearly flush you gasped as you felt his arousal straining his trousers and the fog of lust cleared for a moment as the reality of what you were sprinting headlong toward caught up to you.

“Jaskier, wait,” you murmured hastily as his lips left yours to gasp a breath and he froze, worry flickering across his visage.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, the huskiness of his voice sending heat flooding through you despite your request.

“I need to tell you something first.”

“What is it?”

“My name isn’t Aevryn. It’s [ y/n ],” you blurted out, the urge to tell him the truth overpowering the white hot desire that gripped you.

Jaskier’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t interrupt as you quickly continued.

“I should have told you sooner, but I was afraid. I’ve been on the run, hiding for so long now,” you trailed off, shame welling up inside you and you turned your face to the side, unable to face him.

“Hey,” Jaskier murmured as he gently turned your face back to him, his hand caressing your cheek. “I know.”

Swallowing, you nearly gaped up at him. “You know?” you asked, unable to keep the incredulity from your voice.

“I guessed, anyway,” he admitted softly. “I figured you would tell me what you were running from when you were ready.” A chuckle burst from his lips then. “I didn’t exactly think it would be in the middle of getting hot and heavy.”

You couldn’t help but huff a laugh in return at the irony of it. “Yes well, I didn’t want you to go into this, believing a lie.” Taking a shaky breath you looked into his face, your hand reaching up to comb your fingers through his mussed chestnut hair falling over his forehead.

“Jaskier I’m married.” There you’d said it.

If he was surprised he didn’t show it.

“My-my… husband,” you began, fumbling over the word, now foreign to your mouth, “he’s a monster. He —“ Having to stop to take another breath Jaskier waited patiently, his thumb slowly caressing the length of your jaw as you fought to get the words out. “He would beat me when he was unhappy and-and… I had to get away from him and there was no other way.”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Jaskier quickly assured you, not wanting you to have to put your pain into words. “I get the picture…” Sadness filled his blue eyes, but he didn’t pull away.

“You’re not mad?” The question left your lips in a whisper. “You’re not going to leave me?”

“No.” The fierceness in Jaskier’s voice stunned you and all you could manage to do was stare at him. “Aev — [ y/n ],” he corrected, seeming to savor the sound of it, “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to leave. I-I think I’ve finally discovered what pleases me and I’m not going to let it go.”

“Oh, Julian,” his given name fell from your lips and you tightened your arms around him, pulling him back down to you. “I want you,” you admitted softly. “Now there are no more secrets between us.”

A smile spread across his face and he leaned forward to press his lips to yours slowly, his kiss gentle but far from chaste, his teeth nipping at your lower lip as he pulled back slightly to catch your gaze. “I want you too,” he groaned, resting his forehead against yours.

“Then don’t stop.”

You purred his words from earlier back to him, your eyes finding and holding his as they darkened with lust. The low desperate growl that rumbled from his throat sent heat pooling low in your stomach and then his mouth was on yours again, though this time slow and deliberate as though he were savoring you like he savored your name.

Breaking to pull his shirt over his head he pulled you up with him, his hands deftly working to loosen the laces on the back of your dress as his lips explored your neck and jaw until your dress fell away. Lowering you back down Jaskier eased the delicate fabric down your waist and your lifted your hips so he could slide it off completely, letting it pool on the floor, soon joined by the remainder of his clothes.

By the flickering light from the fireplace you admired him, committing his body to memory, as no doubt he was doing the same. Crawling back over you, his hands gliding up your body stopped to caress your breasts as he kissed you, tasting you, the heat between your thighs spreading.

You could feel his hardness twitch against your thigh and you rolled your hips against him, pleased with the low groan it drew from Jaskier’s lips.

“Jaskier,” you moaned and could feel his grin against your skin as his hands continued their exploration of your fevered flesh. “Please…”

“Please what?” he asked, lifting his head to watch you.

“Please, touch me,” you said, breathlessly.

“Oh, but I am touching you,” he replied, pausing to trace a finger teasingly down your navel and over the crest of your hip; your body practically quivering in response. He was so close to where you wanted him and it was clear he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted until you begged.

“Jaskier please, you know what I want,” you tried again, but the coy smile that curved his lips wickedly made it clear you would have to say it.

“Do I?” he mused, leaning back down to trail kisses across your chest, nipping at your skin between each open mouthed kiss. The warmth of his tongue nearly drove you mad and you finally gave in.

“I want you inside me,” you gasped in frustration and Jaskier chuckled in response.

“Oh, like this?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he brushed his thumb over your throbbing cunt and slid a finger between your folds, adding a second one as you rolled your hips instinctively to meet each slow thrust.

“Are you always such a tease?” you managed to gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Maybe I just want to take my time with you,” Jaskier replied, wetting his lips. Your eyes followed the quick swipe of his tongue, biting your lip as his fingers continued to move in and out of you, curling up to hit just the right spot. “All the best things are worth waiting for, are they not?”

Smiling, you pulled him closer, kissing his laughing lips, feeling the heat between your legs coiling. Just as you hit the brink, ready to overflow Jaskier pulled his hand away and the frustrated whine that left your lips only seemed to fuel him.

Before you could complain, you felt his length press against you, replacing his slick fingers and you shuddered as it teased your entrance.

“Oh please,” you whimpered, closing your eyes.

Jaskier kissed you slowly as he pressed into you by increments until he was fully sheathed. “Oh fuck.” The plea that tumbled from your lips was soon replaced by moans that grew louder as he began to move in you, thrusting slowly at first until he was certain you were accustomed to his size.

At some point you wondered if the guests in the rooms next to his could hear your cries, but you were past caring. All you could think of was him and how wonderful the moment was, how good and right he felt, until you could no longer think at all, the pleasure his every movement, his every touch overwhelming your senses, pushing you toward the edge.

Your cries reached a fever pitch, mixing with his string of praise and encouragement, begging you to cum for him, to call his name.

And you did.

#jaskier x reader #jaskier smut #jaskier imagines #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #the witcher #the witcher fic #fic: traveling partners #comments and feedback are appreciateddd #<3

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Curse.11 Instru-mental

[First] [Masterlist] [Next] Beta: @lpayne612 Rating: PG Pairing: Prince!Jin x Reader Genre: fantasy, romance, comedy, drama, mystery, and more good stuff Words: 2.5k

Summary: A modern-day fairy tale whereby seven young princes born under King Bang’s greed cannot find true love. Unless they break a special spell, called the ‘Bang curse’. In order to break the curse, Prince Seokjin must be loved by a ‘Blue’ blood, by a royal. That seems almost impossible when you have a pig nose. (based off the movie Penelope)

Seokjin strolled through the palace, his face mask on in the event he ran into any unfortunate servants. He moved leisurely down the halls and peeked out into the gardens until he arrived at the main common area that his brothers would use. Like any other home with the boys, there was a collection of each of their hobbies.

A collection of mixed sports equipment: one basketball, a riding crop, hockey sticks, and a football. Seokjin passed the living room with its plush couches and bean bags, and an array of video game consoles, and he moved along - passing the trophies and bookshelves and figurines until he landed at the end door.

Reaching out his hand, his fingertips slowly brushed the smooth wooden door until he reached the letters engraved into the mahogany wood. Letters that spelled out his name ‘Seokjin’, like the nameplate at a zoo. His childhood prison.

“Are you kids ready for the ball? We are leaving in five minutes,” his father called, it was the annual Christmas ball. The royal family always attended and led the ball and all the winter activities. Seokjin, every year, would watch them while sitting on his bed.

“Why isn’t hyung going?” Taehyung finally asked, old enough to understand that his older brother was sitting out.

“He can’t go Taehyungie, people might get scared, they aren’t used to seeing Jin’s face. Remember, we can’t tell anyone about his face because then they might get scared and try to hurt him,” Yoongi said

“I don’t want to go if hyung doesn’t get to go!” Taehyung said, his eyes watering.

“Tae,” Seokjin called his younger brother, “I want you to go. I love watching everyone having fun on the TV, and one year I will get to go to the party with you, so go and have fun for your big brother.”

Seokjin wiped his four-year-old brother's eyes and grabbed the zip of the white padded jacket, securing it under Taehyung’s chin. “You stay warm Tae. You can borrow my scarf and it will be like I’m there with you.”

Wrapping the emerald green scarf around his younger brother, he smiled fondly. “I will be home soon hyung.” Taehyung hugged Seokjin tightly and pulled back with a bright grin, “I’m going to bring back a goodie bag for you!”

“Alrighty get out of here and have some fun.”

Seokjin smiled pulling down the gold lever door handle with filigree details, pushed the door open, and the nostalgia hit him like a freight train. He strolled to the big bed and touched the small stuffed toy he had been given that very same night.

“Kim Seokjin! Where have you gone?” the governess called stomping through Seokjin’s room searching for him. He had climbed down from the second-floor landing in the garden and ran to the courtyard. “There you are. Come back you little--”

Seokjin kept running until he reached the side of the courtyard and was in the middle of playing when he heard some kids laughing. Curious he strolled closer; through the fence he saw them making fun of a young girl. Seokjin began throwing snowballs at the bullies and they ran away, throwing her stuffed toy over the fence.

She was crying clutching the fence. She looked to be a little younger than himself, but not anything too significant. He picked up the small stuffed pig and covered his face with his hand, cursing that he didn’t bring a mask with him.

“You dropped this?” he said, holding out the pink plush. She looked up at him and took the small toy from his outstretched hand with a small smile. He handed over an embroidered handkerchief.

“Who are you?” she asked quietly, her small hands took the small square of fabric and wiped her eyes.

“I’m Jin,” Seokjin’s voice was barely audible but she picked it up.

“Are you the prince? Good evening.” She bowed low, the stuffed toy falling from her hands and he dived for it, forgetting about his abnormality until he heard her gasp. He nervously covered his face, his face and ears turning red.

“I am sorry.” He was close to tears, his father would be furious if he found out someone had seen him. “I’m a monster.”

“My mum says monsters are monsters if they do bad things and hurt people without feeling sad.” Her smile was unique, starting off a little lopsided before pulling up into a full charming grin that turned up the outer corners of her eyes.

Seokjin hummed holding the small pig plush; that night had changed him so much. He opened the bedside table and saw a picture Taehyung drew for him. He smiled, his younger brother was so gentle and kind. Seeming to remember the purpose of entering this wing of the house, he shut the drawer holding the picture in his hand.

With as much stealth as he could manage, he ducked his head out of his bedroom door, looking down the hallway. Turning to the door to his right, he could see a faint glow under the frame. He was sure Taehyung said they had all gone out. It was the door to Yoongi’s room, and he would honestly be livid if he caught Jin snooping around. Opening the door, he grabbed the guitar from across the room and turned from the darkroom dully illuminated by a few LED cords.

Moving quickly from his brother’s chambers, Seokjin made it to the middle of the living room when he heard talking, and the door opened. He ran as fast as he could down the halls, ignoring his brother’s lion shouts knowing he was too lazy to chase him, Seokjin made it to the meeting room - peeking inside making sure the space was empty before entering and placing the guitar against the sofa.

Checking his phone, he saw you had messaged your arrival to the palace. He ran through the hidden door and closed it firmly, moving his chair and sitting in front of the mirror. He pulled the small table with the PA microphone closer so as to talk to you when you arrived. Waiting, Seokjin shuffled trying to get comfortable and even started pacing, fiddling with his hands and more.

He saw the door open and you entered looking positively radiant in the same pink coat. He laughed as he saw you giggling over the guitar, picking it up and smiling at the mirror. “Any requests?”

The two of you were in a fit of giggles with the way you were playing the guitar in an awful rendition of Epiphany by an unknown artist. You were strumming awfully, not even trying to make some semblance of the tune.

“I’m the one I should-” your brows furrowed as you strummed different notes in hopes of strumming the correct one but failing. “love, love? love? In this… I’m the one I should love, in this world...”

Seokjin received a text, and he looked down at his phone and cackled. Yoongi had messaged and by the wording, he didn’t seem happy.

[Yoongi: Stop, you borrowed my guitar for this? If you don’t stop her I will disown you, my brother]

“Okay, stop. Stop!” Seokjin called into the speaker. “You don’t play the guitar, I get that now!”

“I thought I did pretty well?” You pouted playfully but conceded to his demands, “So it’s not the guitar. I can’t wait for what instrument you choose next week.”

“If I don’t figure it out soon, Yoongi is going to murder you and then me,” Seokjin sighed, his sides aching pleasantly from the laughter.

“You know what your laugh sounds like.” You walked closer to the mirror. Seokjin, who didn’t realize he had lent forward, sat up straight pulling away from you nervously. His heart beating like in the dramas he often watched. The small scrunched up paper bag (with the bakery logo that once held the delicious pastry you had brought for him to try) fell with a soft thud.

You looked up at him, and something about the delivery of a small lopsided smile struck a chord. The way it pulled up into a lazily grin - lifting the outer corners of your eyes in an almost mischievous way.

“It reminds me of cleaning windows or mirrors. If I wipe this mirror, that would be your laugh.” You were so close to the mirror that your smile dropped.

“Is everything okay?” Seokjin asked, hoping you couldn’t see him.

“I don’t like looking at myself in the mirror. I don’t know why, but I just don’t enjoy seeing myself.” Looking at the ground Seokjin gave a small smile understanding how that felt. “Honestly you’re beautiful, so I don’t think you need to hide from yourself.”

“Thank you,” cheeks heating up, you sat on the couch across from the mirror and smiled. “Okay I have thought of some questions?”

“I have as well,” he smiled pulling the microphone closer “But ladies first”

“Okay, get comfy, and don’t answer anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“Of course, my lady, ask your first question.”

“What is your favorite color?”

Seokjin sat across from the young girl, “Your nose is turning pink.” Seokjin watched the small girl giggle as she unwrapped her pastel pink scarf,leaned her hands through the bars of the fence, and looped it over his shoulders - wrapping it around to cover the lower half of his face. “You have to protect your precious little nose.”

“What about you?” he asked, snuggling into the warmth and the sweet buttercream scent embedded into the soft worn fabric. “Won’t you get cold?”

“I am not a prince, so you are more important. My mother told me to respect others who are older and more important. You look good in pink, it’s cute.”

“Pink,” he smiled fondly thinking of that night many years ago. “What is your favorite holiday?’

“Hmm… I think it would be Christmas. It was the last holiday I spent with my parents, even though I can’t remember much, just knowing that I had one last night with them means a lot to me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be it is totally fine, I can’t remember much. They said I lost some memories in the car accident.”

“That’s such a nice way to see the holiday - instead of blaming and cursing the Christmas you saw the good in the situation.”

The questions were passed back and forth, exploring everything and anything the two of you could think of. “When was the last time you were outside?”

“Other than walking onto my balcony or passing from one building to another across the courtyard, the last time I left the palace was to play on the grounds. It was the day after Christmas when I was nine.

Seokjin was standing in the snow waiting for her to return. He held the pig plush hoping she would come back,ut as an hour passed, he started to feel disheartened. A hand fell softly against his shoulder, and he turned to see Yoongi standing there looking positively freezing.

“Come on. Her parents probably don’t let her walk around at night.” His words were gentle - which was not like Yoongi, but it still didn’t stop the harsh reality stinging in Seokjin’s chest.

That day had made him distrustful of everyone. She was supposed to see him that day so he could return the plush and her scarf, but she was a no show.

Your phone chimed, cutting through the laughter abruptly. Seokjin sat up, his face falling. He knew this was you having to leave, and his chest felt weird with the idea. Watching your face fall would have normally made the eldest prince laugh, but he was resigned to a small sad smile. Clearly, you too were reluctant to leave. He reached out wanting to stop you as you collected your things, but his hand hit the cold mirror instead. “I have to go, I’ll be back tomorrow?”

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” he spoke softly watching you pull your hair into a messy ponytail.

“If I could stay I would,” you looked up at him with a coy smile, “but a young lady shan’t spend the lengthy evening unchaperoned with a man.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ask that of you - it would ruin your reputation.” He felt his ears turn red at the fact you saw him as a man just like any of his handsome brothers.

“I mean, you haven’t even prepared me a bed,” you laughed gesturing about the room.

Your words caused his heart to race at the prospect that you might stay the night. Separated by a thin layer of cold glass But there, where he could see and talk to you, things he was often deprived of as a child.

“I really must go,” you said, giving a wave rushing out the door backward. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I will hold you to that,” Seokjin waved letting his hand fall after you had disappeared out the room. He sat for a moment before falling back onto the couch, kicking his feet in the air.

He picked up the guitar and raced it back through the palace, grinning behind the fabric mask he wore and entering the common living area. His brothers were all sitting surrounded by snacks watching intently. The TV showed footage of the room but lagging by a few minutes. He watched you laying on the couch describing some of your favorite places to go and places you would dream of going to.

He watched as your phone rang and the boys shouted. Taehyung pointed his ice cream at the TV, “No, she can’t leave yet!”

“Seokjin is here, of course she left,” Yoongi said, but they were all shushed by Hoseok, Jungkook, and Jimin who were watching with giddy smiles.

“I mean, you haven’t even prepared me a bed,” you laughed gesturing about the room.

Namjoon choked on his tea and Jungkook hit him on the back, not seeing his older brother wincing with the impact of his hand. Seokjin’s face went warm again as they all cheered suggestively. “She likes you,hyung!” They cheered looking around, “She’s the one, she’s going to break the spell!”

The boys circled Seokjin jumping around,kicking and slapping his back happily showing their enthusiasm. For a moment, Seokjin felt normal, as though he was no different from his brothers. A young man with a woman that - dare he say - he loved and he hoped he wasn’t wrong for assuming that, one day, she might love him well.

He knew if she broke the curse, he would be handsome and someone worthy of being loved, but she would just have to wait for him. He had handed back the guitar and was ready to retire to his room for the evening to process everything that had happened.

“Hyung,” a voice called as he walked down the halls. Seokjin turned to see Jungkook had followed him with a shy smile, “You weren’t around much when I was young. The others said Father had moved you pretty young to the other wing, and well, I just wish you were there. I wish I could have known you the way I do now - back then. I’m proud of you.”

“Ya! How old are you to be speaking like that?” Seokjin laughed and the two started playfully fighting. After they were done, Seokjin excused himself, patting Jungkook’s head and resuming his walk across the palace to his solitude.

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