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cordeliawhohung · 3 days

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Strangers

john price x fem!reader | masterlist | ao3

John Price remembers every life he's ever lived. When death takes him in one universe, he's born into the next with all his memories and past experiences still intact. Throughout the lives he's lived, you're the only thing that ever seems to quell the ache in his chest, and he spends every life searching for your comfort. Except, in this life, he's too late

cw: soulmate!au, murder, suicide, feticide, kidnapping, drugging, possessive john price, non-con elements, one shot, dead dove: do not eat!!!

In every life you’ve ever lived, John Price finds you.

He’s drawn to you like an animal is drawn to its cage. The glint of the metal bars look like stars if he squints hard enough, and the smell of blood and iron is the fairest perfume in the world. There is no life that he wishes to live without you in it. Tucked close to his chest in bed at night. Curled up underneath his thumb. Where you go, he follows you, hidden in the shadows until he’s ready to reveal himself as the soulmate who’s been tracking you across eons worth of lives.

It’s a simple curse. One that’s haunted him since he first poofed into existence so long ago he can’t recall how much time has passed. Forever bound to remember every life he’s ever lived while everyone else debates the possibility of a god or heaven, forgetting their reincarnated selves in other universes. It’s a particularly lonely ailment. He had been locked in chains in one life for attempting to convince the world that there was life after death, not through a god, but through sheer human will. Had to sever the artery in his tongue with his teeth and drink down his blood to escape a life of imprisonment, and just like he knew he would, he woke up in his next life a free man.

These days, he spends his lives on something more worthwhile: you. Just as he does, you look the same in every universe with a smile he knows by touch alone and a laugh that is the only melody that can soothe the immortal ache in his chest. He’s fried his brain with drugs and killed his liver with drink, forever carrying the burden of memory, and yet throughout his travels, you remain the only thing capable of soothing that terrible ache that haunts him. If death has already taken you in one life, he kills himself and moves onto the next, a wild man forever on the hunt for you.

The only other thing that stays consistent throughout his many lives besides the desire to be yours, is the taste of fresh tea. He prefers Yorkshire tea, but the Earl Grey they substitute at the shop is fine enough. Quiet muttering fills the air around him as he sits in the corner of the shop, alone with his thoughts. He takes a sip of the tea, allowing the hint of lavender to wash over his tongue as if cleansing him. It’s the only thing that tastes and smells like home. Besides you, of course; but he hasn’t found you yet, and it’s getting late.

Usually, he’s lucky enough to find you by the time both of you are in your twenties. It’s easy to win you over at that age. He holds a maturity well beyond his years, and you hold a wide-eyed innocence that has you in his grasp before you even realize it. But he’s in his thirties, and that has him anxious. Too much time has passed — a decade more than usual — which leaves him with a variety of possibilities. Ones he doesn’t like entertaining.

No matter. He’s learned to be somewhat patient over the countless lifetimes spent searching for you, because it always pays off in the end. All the marriages, the children you have, the love you make. John Price is the luckiest man in the world, being able to replay his favorite memories with you for all eternity. He could never tire of you, would never dream of such a terror.

So when the bell attached to the shop door rings with the entrance of another customer, it quickly turns to music to his ears when he sees you. Afternoon sunlight illuminates the world behind you, blinding him with the beauty you carry across universes and worlds. Your familiar eyes scan the area briefly, hardly paying him any mind before you approach the counter with a grace and poise that has his heart thudding in his throat. He can never get used to the first time. The first time his eyes land on you, he hears your voice, or skin touches yours; it’s the only thing that can tear him apart as well as you do.

He tries not to stare at your ass when you order your drink. It’s always been his favorite physical feature of yours. There’s something different about this version of you, yet still familiar. Nothing is ever entirely unknown to him, not when it concerns you, but you’re glowing more than usual. It’s captivating in a way that makes him feel like a dog, looking at a woman in such a perverse way, but he knows you like it when he stares. You always have in every other life.

When the barista hands you a to-go cup, John knows he doesn’t have long before you slip away. Such a sharp girl, quick on her feet. Always buzzing around, never staying in one place for too long, as if the imprint of your soul enjoyed the chase of him following after you. It’s a game he enjoys very much; one he doesn’t mind entertaining at all.

John rises from his seat, cup still half full, where he slips to the door just as you turn around to leave. His pace is leisurely, certainly in no rush as his hands reach out for the exit, only for him to pause. How silly of him to have left his drink behind, the only reason he even came to that shop in the first place. When he turns around, it’s quick and violent, and catches you so off guard you run right into him.

Piping hot tea splashes around in your to-go cup, and if it wasn’t for John’s quick reflexes and a firm grip on your wrist, you would’ve gotten yourself hurt. Your gasp is sweet and melodic on his ears, and he nearly melts under your gaze as your wide eyes stare at him. Your surprise is cute. As if you couldn’t remember meeting him in countless different universes like this.

“Terribly sorry, darling,” he says as if surprised. His grip loosens on your wrist just as his other hand comes up to rest on your waist. It’s quick, he knows; but in some way, you’re already used to it. “You alright?”

It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and once you do, John feels you slip out of his grasp as you take a step back. Both of your hands come up to hold the cup, afraid of dropping it, and you give him a polite smile and nod.

“Yes, thank you, I… good save,” is all you can manage as you chuckle and gesture to your drink.

John’s hands mourn the absence of your warmth, yet he allows them to politely fall back against his side. His lips yearn to be on yours. For him, this isn’t a first time greeting, but a long awaited reunion. Still, he calms his nerves and hardens them to steel as he chuckles with you.

“Would’ve hated for you to have gotten hurt,” he comments as his eyes glance down at your legs. The brief thought of that searing hot liquid broiling the supple skin of your thighs invades his mind before he can push it away. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

Whatever your response is, he can’t hear it. The dazzling bling of your betrayal drowns out the sound of your voice and everything around him. It’s beautiful; your ring. Its gemstone glints in the sunlight streaming through the windows as if attempting to blind him. No, not blind him. Something worse. It screams at him the very thing he had feared for the last few years; he was too late. Bound to another man in matrimony, a silly mistake you had made before ever seeing the light.

The aftertaste of tea suddenly tastes putrid on his tongue. His sweet mate, too impatient to wait for him in that lifetime. You’d fucked other men in other lives, and though it had always made his stomach turn, John could understand. But marriage?

His teeth threaten to shatter under the pressure of his clenching jaw.

When the sound comes back to him, his eyes comprehend the expression on your face. Discomfort — near disdain. In this universe, John Price is not your lover. He is a man, and only that. One who just so happens to be barring you from the exit.

He remembers himself, and smiles at you kindly as he quickly steps to the side, muttering an apology with a jaw that’s much too stiff. And still, he reaches behind him to hold the door open for you, and despite your apprehension you thank him quietly and say goodbye before you vanish into the streets. Your smell lingers in the air next to him for only a moment before it dissipates and drowns in the aroma of herbs and teas. His face goes cold as he glares at the corner where his now cold tea sits.

This was the first life he ever lived where you married a man that wasn’t him. Something broke. Shattered in his chest where the shards cut him apart from the inside out. When he breathes in, he can smell the blood pooling inside of him and it wakes him up to the terrible realization that — for once in his many, many lifetimes — he’s late. He’s late, and he doesn’t know what to do.

As the sweet smell of tea fades and is replaced by the putrid aroma of London, John tells himself to let it go. So what he wasted thirty plus years just for your heart to already be stolen away from him? There’s a millennia behind him, and a millennia ahead of him. When one life doesn’t go right for him, there’s always the next. Yet as pavement turns to brick and The Thames sprawls out in front of him beyond metal bars, he finds himself hesitating. The idea of letting go can’t quite sink its tendrils into his mind, and his knuckles grow white as he grips the barrier in front of him.

Bitter wind bites at his face as he looks at the water below him. Hesitation. He doesn’t know why it paralyzes him. There’s never been any need or use for second guesses, because he’s always known what’s waiting for him on the other side. All he needs to do is lift his leg, hoist himself up, and then let gravity do the rest. He’s done it before, in some other life. He’s felt his body hit the frigid water with needle-like pain blossoming across his skin just before it swallows him whole. It’s not an easy way to die, but it’s the only thing violent enough that has the capability of smothering the bitterness growing in his heart.

The answer to his confusion comes as a whisper on the back of his neck, where it tingles until it reaches the base of his spine and flutters throughout every cell of his body. Principle. It’s the principle of it all. In every single life, you’ve been his lover, his wife, the mother of his children, and if you are not, then you are dead. Rotten. Decaying in some grave by the time he finally finds you. You’re not just his desire, the love of his life, his reason for being; you are his right.

How long can someone love a soul before it becomes theirs? Before it’s ripped out of their lover and tucked safely away into a cage?

John chuckles as his hand slips from the railing, and he slides them into his pockets as if he had been enjoying the view of grey water and even more grey skies this entire time. Kill himself? No; you’ve been his this entire time. You just don’t know it yet.

He’s only ever done this a few times before; kidnap someone. In a few of his past lives, he’s been a soldier. A stone-hardened man who’s stolen families as bartering tools to make terrorists talk when their mouths were otherwise sealed shut. Killing is a good way for him to let out the anger that builds in a man’s soul after so long, and though he prefers to keep it to people who deserve it, his fingers can’t help but twitch as he watches your husband drop you off at the yoga studio.

Doesn’t he — your husband — deserve it? Death? Shouldn’t he pay the ultimate price for stealing you away from your true lover? The man who’s looked after you for eons? John wants to do it. Kill him. Smell the sanguine aroma that mixes with the harsh gunpowder that expels after a bullet is shot. He wants to, and he could do it, but murder muddles things up more than he would like, and though he’s good at covering his trail, he’d rather steal you away without incident. He’s been carefully plotting this ever since he saw you in that tea shop all those days ago; he can’t ruin it.

A smile pulls at his lips as he thinks about the look on your husband's face, when his pretty little pretend wife doesn’t return home. When he realizes how he’s failed you.

John’s hands tap at the steering wheel as he waits, patient as ever, for your session to end. Silly of you to go to a night class, really. Even sillier of your husband to allow such a terrible thing. If anything, it's greater proof that this new man in this new life isn’t good for you. It could have been anyone sitting in that car park, waiting for you to leave. Waiting to take you home.

Good thing it’s only him.

John exits the car just before eight. Cool air does its best to calm the electricity sizzling in his veins, but ultimately it’s his own mind that stills his nerves. Everything is planned out in his mind with moves expertly rehearsed in a past now forgotten, yet still ingrained in his memory; he knows he’ll get exactly what he wants. You. It’s all he craves. All he ever does.

You exit the studio with a laugh and a wave goodbye to the other women in your yoga class. That pathetic husband of yours is late, which only proves to be good fortune for John as he slips by your side. His feet are dangerously silent on the pavement and his arm is just as warm as ever as he wraps it around your waist, blade in hand. Even through the fabric of your shirt its point is noticeably sharp, and your feet stumble as he presses it against you in warning.

“Not a word, darling,” he whispers, too saccharine to be a stranger.

You listen, just like he knew you would, and he steers you away from the pavement and into the car park. It’s difficult for him not to chuckle as he recalls you in another life. How you once batted your pretty lashes at him, all but begging him to use a knife in bed with you. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to feel the cold sting of it against your skin. He wonders if some part of you feels that way in this life.

Once you reach the car, he slips the zip ties over your wrists in a single fluid motion before opening the door for you. Any onlookers would just think he’s being a gentleman helping you into the car like that, but there’s a method to his madness. As soon as you’re seated into the passengers side, your eyes meet his and they widen with terrified recognition. Not quite the look he hoped for from you, but your expression quickly melts away the moment a needle pierces through your pants and into your thigh. All that’s left to do is buckle you in and drive off.

He likes to pretend he’s carrying you to your honeymoon room as he curls you up into his arms. A sweet bride, passed out against his chest as he carries you to bed, safe in the confines of the cage he’s spent that entire lifetime preparing for you. You don’t stir when he places you in bed, but he lays down next to you as if both of you are resting. He lays in front of you so he can see your face while it’s peaceful; not while it’s twisted with confusion and disgust like it was in the tea shop a few days ago. No, he likes you much better like this. Quiet and pliant.

The tips of his fingers trace the features of your face, and it’s a dance he’s grown to have well memorized. They brush your lips and the tip of your nose before dipping underneath your jaw where they continue to wander. It doesn’t feel wrong, even though he knows you’d beg to differ. He’s done this before, in a life you don’t remember. Touch you like this. Feeling the dip between your breasts and the skin of your stomach. He pats your hands, still bound together with a zip tie — he tells himself he’ll remove them once you start behaving — before caressing your thighs. He wants to slip upwards, to brush his thumb against your clit just like how he knows you like it, but he refrains. He’ll wait until you wake up to do that. Your gasps are always sweeter when you’re aware.

The sweet bliss of numb eternity melts away as the drugs begin to wear off, and when your eyes flutter open you’re met with the face of a stranger. Truly, he’s not a stranger at all. Or, at least that’s what John would have you believe with the knowing smile he gives you. Your bound hands move up and press against his chest, desperately attempting to earn some space between the two of you. This only makes him laugh, and his hand rests on top of yours.

“Easy, darling,” he soothes.

An incoherent response stumbles out from your lips just as fearful tears swell in your eyes. His hand pants yours against his chest before he frowns. The gemstone on your wedding ring stands out like a sore thumb against his palm, and it serves as a stark reminder as to why he had to do all this in the first place. You don’t — or can’t — fight against him as he slips the ring off your finger and places it on the nightstand next to him. He’ll dispose of it properly another time, but for now he just can’t stand to see that proof of ownership on you.

“Please.” It’s the first word you’re able to slur out, and John hangs onto the syllable like it’s dessert. “W-Whatever you want… please… my husband, h-he’ll give it to you just… let me go, please.”

Husband. He hates that word on your lips when it’s not in reference to him.

“I’ve already gotten what I want, love,” he whispers.

Your eyes wrench shut and tears fall free at the realization that there’s nothing you can do to get away from this crazed man. He shushes you as he holds your face in his hands and presses his lips against your forehead. It’s not enjoyable, the way you recoil from him, but giving you the same love he’s given you in every other life feels right. It feels more wrong to withhold it from you.

Because this is his right, isn’t it? Of course it is, and in some sort of way, you seem to know this too. Your hands no longer press against his chest in disdain, and it’s all too easy to prop himself up on his elbow and press his lips against yours. The pressure is firm, as if he’s holding himself back from taking more from you. He groans at the taste of salt on your lips, and nearly chuckles at the way you tremble. It’s a one-sided embrace that you refuse to return, but he tells himself you’ll learn otherwise soon enough.

When John pulls away, your eyes refuse to focus on him as the shame eats you from the inside out. Your entire body is limp, bound hands resting against your stomach as he sits up. Deciding you’ve been behaving well enough, he reaches for the knife on the nightstand and he turns back to you, ready to cut the ties from your wrists.

The very moment the glint of the knife catches your eye is the moment you begin to squirm. Legs thrash and mess up the sheets as you scramble away from him until your head and back is pressed against the headboard. Your chest heaves violently as your terror overtakes you, and John pauses as you retreat. He’s never seen you look at him like that; not in any life he’s ever lived.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promises.

“Please don’t,” you beg, his assurance falling on deaf ears. Your pleas turn into mindless stuttering for a moment before something visibly breaks in you, forcing you to share a secret that feels like sealing your death: “Please, you can’t just- I- I’m pregnant! Please!”

Everything stops. The world. His heart. It all falls quiet except for the sound of your hyperventilating which is almost as deafening as the ringing in his ears. Pregnant. Anything kind in John’s eyes dies quietly as he clenches the knife in his hand.

Pregnant. Not with his child. It must be a lie — it has to be a lie. You don’t look pregnant. There is no swelling of your stomach. Yet your hands lie on your lower abdomen as if you’re cradling something. Cradling someone. You have never been good at lying in any of your lives, and the candor sheen in your eyes tells him you’re not good at lying in this one, either.

John tells himself he only wants to embrace you. To mourn the life the two of you could have had if you only behaved. He doesn’t register why you’re screaming until the blood covers his hands, and then you fall quiet. His knife sinks into your stomach like it’s butter, and it pulls free from you even easier. You stare up at him, confused. As if you can’t comprehend why he would do this to you.

Ichor flows free from you like a river, and all you can do is gasp and paw at your wound. Your legs flail as John pulls you against his chest, chin resting on top of your head as if this is something he can soothe away with a hug. It’s not. He can’t soothe away your betrayal. Can’t come to terms with the fact you carry another man’s child when you should be carrying his.

“I know,” he shushes with a strained voice. “I know. It’ll be over soon.”

Your death is not kind, and he mourns every minute you bleed in his arms until you eventually still. It’s only when your blood goes cold that he allows himself to cry. Angry, hot tears that sear his skin as they soak into your hair. Damn this ruined life. Damn the years he wasted trying to find you only for you to be soiled by the time you were in his grasp. He hates the gore that stains your being, but he assures himself it was necessary.

In every life, you belong to him. In the lives that you don’t, you’re already dead.

John carefully places your body back on the mattress where he takes in the sight of you. There’s no more glow to your skin, not like there was while you were alive. But you’re dead, and he knows the life inside of you is dead, too. He tries to take comfort in that fact before angling the knife towards himself.

Killing himself is easier than killing you, as driving the knife into his throat is a well practiced motion. It’s something he’s done before, and he’s so used to it he doesn’t even groan at the sting as the blade slices his artery. Darkness is quick to cloud his vision as the blood loss overwhelms him, and he sputters and stares down at your cold body below. There is little comfort he feels when his blood meets yours on the stained sheets of the bed he wished to love you on. The mixing of blood is the only bond the two of you will ever have in that life.

He coughs as he falls forward. Soon, he has no use for any sort of comfort at all.

There is no blood in your next life. No iron taste in your mouth, or rotten flesh haunting your nose. No, there is only ink, paper, and well loved books.

You love your job. Books are your livelihood; the tool you use to escape reality on rainy days, so it only makes sense that in this life you work as a librarian. The building is dated with poorly insulated windows, and a bell that chimes as another patron enters, but that’s what makes it charming. Millions of words have been consumed in that library, and they linger in a way that never leaves you feeling alone.

Several books sit tucked safely in your arms as you wander aisles, on the hunt to return them home. Every shelf is well memorized. You could find any book in that building blind folded, and you hum to yourself as you go to return Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself to its rightful home on the top shelf of the WXYZ aisle.

Your feet are nimble as you climb the step stool to reach the shelf. It nearly reaches the ceiling, which is no small feat for a building of that size. Your arm stretches over your head and you breathe in the scent of stale paper and well loved books. Just as your fingers slide the item into place, the stool below you jerks, and your stomach drops as you fall to the side.

The books in your arms tumble onto the ground, but you’re saved from that same fate as a pair of arms swoop around you. You squeak as your hands grip the shirt of your savior, and you look up with wild eyes at the man. John Price is younger in this life when he finds you. In his twenties this go around. His face is clean shaven, but his eyes still hold the wisdom of forgotten ages and dead worlds.

“Terribly sorry, darling,” he apologizes. His grip on you loosens, but he doesn’t quite cut you free just yet. “You alright?”

“Yes, thank you, I… good save,” is all you can manage through a breathless chuckle.

There’s an innocence in your eyes that has John smiling at you. His hands are kinder in this life. The angry claws that ended your previous life don’t exist anymore. They do not wield a knife in anger; they only hold you with unbridled adoration. It’s the way things are supposed to be, with you in his arms and looking up at him with that innocent gaze, just the way he likes you. For a moment, John worries that you somehow recognize him when you tilt your head, yet as you bashfully return his smile, he takes comfort in knowing that you don’t remember anything.

You don’t remember anything at all.

#core writes #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #fucked up soulmate au #f!reader

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cursedcola · 11 months

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore(Here!), Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: May have overdone it. Also, I'm a bit rough with my french. It's been 2 years, go easy on me.

There is a word for this young man. A term that has always been a one-way thing in his past. A noun that he has experience being the target of, and not the one it is describing.

Whipped. Oh, dear heavens, Vil is whipped for you. The thought both entices him and sends a shiver of distaste down his spine. Why? Because, my dove, in recognizing that he is whipped he is also acknowledging that he is dependent. Reliant. No longer the boss a** queen who needs nobody other than himself. The man the world knows him to be but this schoolboy crush has progressed to borderline infatuation.

Let us do a little synopsis of this downfall. A summary, if you will. An exploration of this Schoenheit's thought process as his prospective future melded from being Twisted Wonderland's resident supernova, to a domestic fantasy that would make his past self vomit.

It all began with a little birdy falling into a nest of snakes. Lost, alone, scared, weak - they slowly melted the hearts of everyone they came in contact with. Vil watched from the sidelines in interest. Not enough to investigate because *why* would he place his time in the hands of prey. It would be an utter waste.

Albeit so...Vil recognizes potential when he sees it. Not unlike himself, they took the hand they were dealt and carved a path to the top. He could respect that ... until there was a collision that threatened his own plans. Suddenly their oddities were no longer amusing and instead a hindrance. Like rain. Nice at the start, but the muddy aftermath never pleases.

And muddy his life became indeed. He became the villain he always disliked. Wretched and old. Completed his self-fulfilling prophecy...and somehow lost it all, yet gained something new in such a short span of time. He was no hero in the story, had no life-changing epiphany, yet somehow it felt different. For a brief moment, he was the fairest of them all to that little birdy. Despite his venom and scales, he was the fairest.

It dawns him that they both are not as alike as he once thought. He was playing a game of chess against someone playing checkers.

The oddity turned hindrance now became an object of interest. He started to watch them again and to approach as well. He wanted to bloom the potential he saw in them. Letting it go to waste would be neglectful on his part, so he would shelter them during their time in this den.

Or so he told himself.

While they could never make it to his level...the little birdy was morphing into a beautiful dove right before his very eyes. All without his help or a need for change. He never felt so desperate to be needed by someone else.

The object of interest becomes an object of affection. He doesn't want to recommend new potions, fashion, workouts, skincare routines - he wants to do them with you. He wants to sit in a rosewater bath together and talk about the day. He wants to be chided for wearing a sleepmask, blocking your view of his eyes at night. He wants to go on a morning jog together and share breakfast. To have you on his arm as he walks the carpet at premiers - brighter than any other accessory his stylist could choose. He wants to kiss your pulse points and smell his perfume on your skin. He wants to share clothes and give the press something to gossip about. He wants to love this little birdy who has always been a dove.

And he gets this fantasy. He has it for years but there is always an underlying gnaw beneath his skin that it is going to end - which he is prepared for initially. He does not do anything half-effort and dating you is not taken lightly - but he is prepared until he does not want to be. Until the possibility of splitting up is unfathomable and he can't imagine not having all the little moments that now he has become so...

Reliant. Whipped.

He initially wants you to propose to him, and hints at it frequently. How glorious would he look dressed in white, no? Which do you like better, black forest cake or almond chip? Oh dear...these tulips would make such a lovely Boquete for a bride...

You are either too dense to understand his hints (unlikely, considering you have years of practice) or he needs to take initiative. Well, if it is a proposal you want then it is a proposal you will get.

He stages it under the guise that he needs a partner for a photoshoot. Specifically for a wedding magazine. You, thinking this is another one of his blatant hints, comply to his pleasure. He calls in a contact from one of the magazines he has modeled for before and asks if they would like an inclusive - never before seen- scoop. Aka. to photograph his proposal and feature it on their front cover. With his reputation, the offer is accepted readily and they agree to set up the shoot with whatever theme he wishes. He goes traditional - set in a gothic chapel that is decorated with red and purple floral adornments. The works for a proposal with a dark vintage twist.

That morning, he leaves before you to handle a separate modeling gig. With a kiss to your wrist, he is gone and off to make sure that everything is perfect for when you arrive later on. Photographers know him for his tenacity, but none have ever seen Vil so anal over small details. Every ribbon must be perfect, there must be both black AND white rose petals spread along the walkway. You must be photographed in rose-tinted lighting, so the camera should face towards the biggest piece of stained glass.

When you arrive, you are escorted to hair and makeup in a whirl. The scene is a blur and you're decked head to toe in white. Gothic lace as far as the eye can see...and when you are finally allowed to enter the chapel, Vil stands haloed by his arranged decorations - waiting for you to join him.

"Stunning, my dear. You look absolutely stunning. A sight I will have etched in my thoughts for many nights to come..." he takes your hand, and signals for the cameramen to get ready. They instruct you both to pose as a couple taking their vows. The camera clicks once, and then Vil gets down on one knee.

You think it's part of the act and that he is improvising. Well, until he pulls out a ring from his breast pocket. One that is a sharp contrast from the dark atmosphere and obviously not a prop.

"Alas, my patience runs dry. I can no longer wait for you..." he begins, and takes your hand in his. Another click echoes in the room, "with this ring, I make you mine. There will be no escape. No lies or uncertainties. I am already yours. I have been for many, many years. Will you finally join me in matrimony?"

{Black Opal. Staring into the gem puts any viewer in a trance. It sucks them in with bright swirls - hypnotizing. It is so beautiful with its intricate pattern, yet at a distance it appears solely black. We often narrow complex things down to one-note interpretations. Do with this information what you will}

Our man of mystery likes to keep things fresh. He loves the thrill of the chase. The anticipation. The adrenaline.

There is no better game of cat and mouse in life than romance. At every stage there are twists and turns that one can never predict. Each day brings new surprises and events! At least, that is what Rook believes a relationship should entail. No partnership should ever feel the lull of comfort...no-no. There must always be a little spice and sweetness around every corner to keep the relationship alive.

At your side, Rook does not doubt his beliefs for a second. You are like a magnet for attention and rightfully so. Out of all the people he finds interesting...you are the most tantalizing to observe. He finds himself following your every movement early on. Long before you began to enter his personal bubble, you were rare prey for the hunt. Otherworldly, full of secrets, attentive, attractive, enticing - he had his mark set so firm that he would have watched you even without Vil's order.

Nothing is missed under his fond scrutiny. Rook is the first to notice small things, like if you trimmed your hair or sewed new buttons on your blazer. He has your walking pace memorized to match when he is at your side. He knows your favorite meals in the dining hall, your habitual seat in the library, how to read your body language, what your favorite treats are and when you like to have them - his knowledge is so extensive that it's up to you if it is considered sweet or creepy. Rook's affections are often teetering the line with infatuation; however, he is not controlling or weird about it. He simply is a romantic who feels the need to know the ins and outs of the person he will give his heart to.

If that includes protecting you from ill-mannered heathens and appearing out of thin air to catch you if you trip? Well, best not question where he comes from. Just know that you have a second shadow. He will only become worse when his affections are returned. You may feel the need to set ground rules for how he can behave in public. Loud declarations of compliment and suggestive topics will not be reigned in otherwise. He is a lover and a fighter. Remember that.

There will come a day that Rook feels you are ready to marry him. Yes, specifically you. He was ready very early on, likely because pining for so long (while exciting) was a chase that gave him plenty of time to learn what he wants. Any time spent waiting was merely for your sake. Only when he notes your fondness towards the idea of marriage does he create a series of tests to ensure your desires. Things like leaving a wedding magazine on the counter to see your reaction, and taking you for a romantic boat ride that just so happens to be a hotspot for couples on their honeymoon. He also mentions the topic in his flirtations more often, to see if you'll respond in kind or shy away. He is a thorough man, if anything.

Oddly enough, he takes a reserved approach for proposing. He uses poetry, which is not unlike him considering how he loves to speak with flourishes. In his heart Rook would love to set up an elaborate event to propose. Something exciting, like a train mystery or a scavenger hunt. Yet some things do not need to be active to be thrilling. Marriage is a delicate act, so it is with a delicate hand that he pens a book of poetry over the course of nineteen days. On each day, he writes one poem to describe one reason he wants to marry you. The first letter in the title of each poem corresponds to a hidden message that you will have to decipher. He does not tell you either of these things.

He hands the book off to you with a cunning grin, and says that it is up to you to find the hidden meaning. If you can, then he will give you a 'special prize'. If you ask the occasion, he offers one of his closed-eye grins and claps his hands. 'Because why not?' He'll say, and it's enough to pacify because it is such a Rook way of thinking that you don't question it.

No matter how long it takes, he waits. He'll watch you analyze each poem and pout for an answer - one he refuses to give. It's all in the chase, after all. He can be patient. All good things come to those who wait.

One cold afternoon, he finds you curled up on the couch in your shared home. A blanket around your shoulders, a hot drink, and the book nestled in your lap. Nothing out of the usual...aside from the pen in your hand hovering over a notebook. Silent as a mouse, he hovers over your shoulder to take a peek and smirks at what has you so miffed.

"Ah...I take it you have words for me, mon coeur. Are they perhaps about a certain mystery?" You jump, and slam the notebook shut before turning around. His eyes crinkle in delight at the sight - his well waited prize. The flush of your cheeks suggest you solved the puzzle and the sweat on your brow shows that you know he knows. Rook rounds about the couch in an instant and crouches on his knees in front of you. He takes your notebook, opens it, and displays the words 'Will You Marry Me?' for you. "Is this your answer? Are you confident?" You nod, avoiding his eyes and he grabs your chin to face him. With a hum of approval, he tips off his hat to pull out a wooden box. In the box is a ring, and he effortlessly slips it onto your finger without asking permission. "Mon moitié...mon trésor. Je te chérirai. Je t'aimerai. Je ne te laisserai jamais partir. Avec cette bague, je suis à toi jusqu'à ce que la mort nous sépare…"

{A large pearl, nested between two emeralds, and a pure gold band. In Rook's eyes, the ring should compliment the wearer. It is the accent piece to your beauty. It should be comfortable, so you never have reason to remove it. In addition to this, it should also serve as a reminder that he is always looking for you. The pearl represents his untainted affection, and the two emeralds are his all-seeing eyes. He hopes this ring brings feelings of comfort and safety}

He is beauty, he is grace, he will punch you in the face - unless you're the object of his affections. Then you get a get out of jail free card. One use. Reinstated every time his heart skips a beat.

Our young lad is a bit of an unpredictable case when it comes to his emotions. Growing up in a small town like Harveston, there was no one his age to spend time with. NRC became his first exposure to people his age, and that made you his first love by default. He wasn't looking for it, didn't have any way to identify it, and frankly he disliked the emotions at first for various reasons. There is a lot to unpack here.

As everyone knows, Epel has a feminine appearance. The exact opposite of how he feels inside. The frilly clothes his dorm makes him wear do nothing to fix that - and now there is this tingling feeling in his chest that takes away his thought process? No. Just no. Not welcome at all. He needs his wits to make up for his unassuming appearance, and he ain't going to have some stranger twisting that about just because they're a bit attractive. Every apple tastes sweet until you try another kind - he says to himself.

He lets it fester for some time and actively avoids you. He sees the hurt in your eyes at his offput demeanor, but can't do much about it. It's your fault if you want to put yourself out there when everyone knows he's not the biggest talker.

Unfortunately...you stick around. Being in his academic year means that most of your classes align, and eventually your friend group does as well. There is no getting around you, and it doesn't take long for other people to connect the dots. Any chance at him getting a tougher reputation were ruined before they even began.

Eventually his resilience runs out and he gives in. Except now we have reason two - he has no chance with you. Zip. Nada. How Lovely.

Why the h*ll would ya go for this country bumpkin with the social skills of a rock? You'd be crazy to an' he ain't going to put himself out for heartbreak.

Now he's stuck humming love tunes and making carved apples of your face because he has years of pining built up with no outlet. It's pitiable, which makes him seethe because he can't do nothin' about it. Rook teased him once after finding Epel making yet another carving while laying in bed, and barely missed getting an apple to the head. The splattered remains of his fruit art on the wall spoke more than any threat could.

Point being, he is emotionally stunted and so he does not ever confess. Not until you do, that is. In that moment all class flew out of his body and he reverted to the socially challenged boy he was before enrolling at NRC. An extremely rare sight for anyone to see...he cringes thinking back on it. When you first said your feelings, he thought you were pulling a prank and got pissed. When he processed that you were serious, Epel lost control of himself and just blurted his thoughts out like a child.

Which is why his proposal is going to be different. It *has* to be different. This time, he'll be the one to ask you and he'll be prepared to avoid any mess ups. He refuses to be one-upped for such an important moment. This time you will be the flustered mess, and he will be the collected one.

To do this, he chooses to propose back in Harveston where he is most in his element. You'll both stay with his family on a weekend vacation in autumn, which meant there would be plenty of open land to arrange for something nice. Not to mention nice scenery from all the fallen leaves and orchards being in bloom. After a long talk with his family, he'd arrange to take you on a day tour of the land on horseback. Basically flaunt all of his farmboy knowledge for a confidence boost, and at the end of the night he'd light a campfire. With some warm cider, the noises of the night, and calm warmth of the hearth - he'd propose. It was almost perfect. *Almost*.

A simple ring feels too disconnected for Epel, and anything extravagant is too expensive considering the family farm's financial state. So, he decides to make it extra special by carving the ring box himself. Wood isn't that much different than apples...

On the first night he decides to work on some finishing touches after you've gone to sleep, and sits on the front porch to widdle away at the design. Like he does when carving apples, he hums a tune into the night as he focuses. Thoughts of the next day making him a bit louder and more excitable than usual - which, unfortunately wakes you up.

The front door opens and he pays it no heed, thinking it's one of his parents coming out for some fresh air. When you plop down next to him and look at the box - well, to say the earth shattered would be an understatement.

"Why aren't you sleepin'?!" His heart hammers and he tries to hide the box under one of his legs. The reaction being too late, since you already got a good look at it. You quirk an eyebrow at his haste, and a mischievous glint twists in your eye. Without warning, you fight him to see what's behind his back. 'What'cha got there Epel~ Why you so embarased huhu~' you tease and his ears flush a deep red. "It's nothin'! Mind your own buisness" 'Well clearly it's something' "I said it's not for you! Get your hands off me," 'Oh? I thought you liked my hands on you~ It looked like a ring box though. Who're you giving a ring to, huh?' "Dangit maybe you'd find out if ya stopped ruining your own surprises!" In his last attempt to avoid your teasing, he tries to yank away but drops the box. It hits the porch with a thud and the lid pops open to show an engagement ring. "...ah sh*t," he swears and hastily crouches to pick it up. You don't tear your eyes away from it, neither from the carvings or how your name is etched in perfect cursive on the lid. Still on his knee, Epel checks the ring for damage before noticing your shocked stupor. He looks at the box again, and signs through his nose before turning towards you. "I had a whole day planned, y'hear me?! For once, I wanted ta be the one surprisin' you...but seein' how you're all tight lipped now, guess I did a good, huh? So? What'dya say? Will you marry me?"

{Crafted using the common hardwood from one of the many apple trees on the family farm. On the outside, there is a carving of a tree taking roots to symbolize the start of a new life. Definitely not because he was surrounded by trees while working on it, and decided to use them for inspiration. When the box is open, the top lid has your names carved along with the date. Well, the date of his *intended* proposal. That will need to be altered. Inside is a simple rose-gold band with small diamonds. Despite the ring's simplicity, he hopes his efforts to make you feel special are not in vain}

NOTE: Translation for Rook: "I will cherish you. I will love you. I'll never let you go. With this ring, I'm yours till death do us part"

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calcifiedunderland · 9 months

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Wishing Wells & a Hunter’s Box

or, Encounters of a Disney-Aware Prefect, ft. Rook Hunt

Part 1, Part 2 (here), Part 3, Part 4

GN reader, uses they/them pronouns!

Warnings: None

Please enjoy~

—————

Damn, Crewel’s class is gonna end me.

You were slouched against the well in the courtyard. Despite the blue birds and doves singing sweetly from the apple trees and squirrels scurrying from branch to branch, you were in a foul mood. You stared at the papers in your hand, waiting for Rook to come help you after Crewel set up a tutoring session for you (against your will-)

Your latest lab report from Alchemy was pockmarked with red marks, all made by none other than Divus Crewel. As if that wasn’t grim enough, he’d even pulled you aside after class a few days ago.

“Prefect, I understand that since you hail from another world, you may find it more… difficult to understand these concepts,” you’d grimaced and tried to hold his gaze. His eyes were steely, but he didn’t seem disappointed per se. Concerned? “You’ve done well enough thus far, but I’d like for you to have some extra help. To… level the playing field, as Vargas would say.”

Crewel was taking pity on you? The Crewel, who assigned Epel a basically impossible task to grow some magical plant? The same Crewel who would’ve skinned Ace alive over spilling a single drop of ingredient? The Crewel who ran Science Club with an iron fist? That Crewel???

“Teacher’s pet,” Ace quipped as he stuffed food in his mouth when you told everyone during lunch. “Literally. He’s nicer to you, anyway. And he calls you his lil’ pup,” he grinned, snarky.

“Yeah, I’d rather not be babied by Crewel,” you retorted. Jack and Deuce seemed pensive about it. “If Crewel’s giving you pointers, maybe that’s a good thing,” Jack pointed out. “You’re not on his bad side at least.” Deuce nodded, trying to cheer you up. “He knows you’re at least trying.”

Grim swiped at your plate, then asked with his mouth full, “So what’d he want anyway? Y’gotta do retaliation too? Ya won’t stay my henchman if y’can’t pass alchemy!”

“Grim, you have to do remediation, and no I don’t. He actually asked the Science Club if anyone would be interested, and he said Rook would help.”

“Seriously? That guy?” Ace spluttered. Deuce looked concerned, “you sure you’ll be safe with him? I mean, if you help, we could ask Housewarden Rosehearts or Trey for help.” “Or Leona,” Jack chimed in.

You were touched by your friends concern. “I’ll be fine guys, Rook may be a little… odd, but he hasn’t been that bad. It’ll be fine.”

So now, it was late afternoon. You’d been waiting forever for the blond to finish in Science Club, you were lowkey hungry and highkey stressed, and you would really like a nap. It seemed fine then, but now you were getting impatient and your paper seemed to be taunting you. Frustrated, you sprang up and turned to the well.

“Aaaaaaauuhgghh!” You screamed into it, then immediately winced when it echoed back AAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGHHHHH at you. Wells didn’t like being yelled at.

You huffed, and your thoughts wandered back to your weekend trip with Vil.

He’d taken you out to ‘teach you about film-making’, and while it was nice, it was a little daunting to see not only him, but his father, in their natural element. Not to mention, afterwards he’d taken you shopping in places where the price tags had too many zeroes to comprehend.

But before that, you somehow made the Dark Mirror speak to you, all from a little line from a dream. A movie?

Maybe it was more than a dream. Maybe it was a hazy memory from your life before Night Raven College, and even though you arrived only a few months ago, why was it so hard to remember? Either way, you remembered the Fairest Queen speaking to the Mirror, and…

A girl singing to the well?

You kicked yourself up, abandoning your lab report on the grass. You leaned over the well, seeing your wiggling reflection in the water. Above your head, a little bluebird and dove swooped and perched at the bar with the water pail, chirping sweetly. Your mind flashed to your dream, where the girl in a ragged dress sang sweetly into the well.

‘I’m wishing!’ I’m wishing!, came the echo.

‘For the one I love!’

‘To find me!’ To find me!

‘Today!’ Today!

You hummed it to yourself, glancing around warily for anyone who was passing by. There wouldn’t be anyone nearby anytime soon, since club time didn’t end for a small while.

Still, you felt a little silly for wanting to sing into a goddamn well. But when you thought about flopping back on the ground, your mind went back to the Dark Mirror responding to your mindless question.

If the Dark Mirror, which supposedly only obeyed the Headmaster of NRC, responded to you, surely something could happen at this well, right? After all, both had been here since the school’s founding.

“I-“ you coughed as your voice cracked, and cleared your throat self-consciously. You tried again,

“I’m wishing,” the echo came back, I’m wishing.

“…for the… one I love.” One I love.

“To… find me,” To find me.

You felt more comfortable now, “Today!”

“TODAY!”

You shrieked and fell on the grass as none other than Rook fucking Hunt bounded up to you with a grin, ignoring your utter embarrassment as he loomed over like a hunter crowding his prey, blocking out the sun ominously. You scrambled back a bit and got to your feet.

“Rook,” you seethed, still embarrassed. “Why?”

“Ah, mon cher tricksteur!” He sighed happily, the feather in his hat fluttering. “I hadn’t known you were a secret romantic! Singing to a well, quelle suprise! La romance, la mystique, la beauté-“

“Alright Rook, that’s enough-“ you tried, but he just carried on. “Why, it makes me want to sing with you!”

Rook promptly burst into song, one hand on his chest and the other flailing around as he spun. He’d at least changed into his regular school uniform, otherwise strange liquids from his club outfit would’ve been flying everywhere, and then you’d have another issue on your hands.

“ROOK!” You screamed exasperated. He stopped and grinned mischievously. “Je suis desolé, I seem to have gotten carried away. Ah, but look at the time! We must prepare you, or Professor Crewel will have both of our hides!”

He spun on his heel, an easy smile on his face, and offered his arm to you. “Shall we, mon cher (y/n)?” His sharp green eyes seemed to soften ever so slightly at you. You nodded slowly and took his arm, and allowed him to steer you away to wherever he was going.

Even though nothing happened (except Rook nearly giving you a heart attack), your mind wandered to the girl in your memory-dream. After she sang that part, she wasn’t alone. She’d sung a duet with… a man?

You glanced at Rook, regarding the feather in his hat bob up and down cheerfully. You smiled despite yourself. A man with a feathered hat.

Rook had taken you to the Pomefiore common room and, despite your friends’ fears, was quite helpful and very meticulous. The hours passed, and when you both were finished going over every procedure, ingredient, applicable magic law, and anything else that Crewel could throw at you, the room became flooded with a soft haze from the setting sun.

You leaned back on the lavish purple couch as Rook perused his own notes. You quietly looked around the common room.

It was much different than Ramshackle’s dusty living room. The room just oozed with luxury and royalty. Truly fit for the Fairest Queen indeed.

Your gaze shifted to a large display case. Sometime ago, when Vil was in his tyrant rampage during VDC, he’d dragged you through Pomefiore and given you a grand tour (against your will, which happened alarmingly often) of the dorm, including the precious objects within said case. You stood and walked to it, leaving Rook to his own work.

The display case held a few objects. The crown Vil wore with his dorm uniform (only taken out when he needed it, apparently passed down to all dorm leaders of Pomefiore). A beautiful dagger with a heart (owned by the Queen’s most trusted huntsman), and-

You frowned, mind becoming fuzzy. An ornate box with a knife through the heart, beautiful and golden-

‘The blundering fool!’

You shook your head and blinked a few times. You stared at the box, brow furrowed.

A dark-haired man with a feather in his cap accepted the box with shaking hands. You couldn’t hear what the regal woman in black said to him, but he didn’t seem to like it. Then suddenly, he was in the forest with the girl in the yellow and blue dress, and raising his dagger to her turned back and-

“I see you’ve found the dorm treasures!”

You jumped, spinning around to Rook smiling innocently down at you, knowing exactly what he did. He’d snuck up so quietly to you, or you were so deep in thought, that you didn’t even hear him. You clutched your chest, breathing quickly.

Forget a defibrillator, Rook could easily restart your heart with his constant jumpscares.

“These two are relics of the Fairest Queen, many years ago,” he began, speaking softer when he saw how startled you were, eyes regarding yours gently. “They are treasures that are a testament to her tenacity and perseverance.”

You were calmer now, and you glanced back at the cabinet. “The dagger…” you turned to him, “Did the hunter use it?” You asked naively, swallowing thickly at what you hoped didn’t happen.

Rook chuckled, but noted how you seemed shaken by your question. He said gently, “Of course mon cher, he was a hunter like moi. He used his dagger as needed.” He gestured to the ornate box, “legend has it that he even brought the heart of a deer to the Fairest Queen upon request.”

A deer. You sighed in relief. Of course he wouldn’t kill the girl. Of course. Who’d want to hurt her?

As you and Rook ruminated by the relics, the sun sank and students entered the dorm, chattering amongst themselves. Vil walked in, and noticed you two.

“Hello Rook, prefect. I trust you two were able to go over the alchemy topics? Crewel said you needed some help,” Vil looked at you, expression unreadable. “He asked me if I could help, but I’d already scheduled a photoshoot beforehand. I do wish I could’ve been there, though.”

“Quelle sympathie mon roi!” Rook started, hand on his chest. “Such benevolence and dutifulness truly befits that of the Queen herself! With your skill in potions and poisons alike, the prefect would pass Crewel’s class with flying colors under your tutelage!”

You laughed to yourself as Vil smiled, shaking his head at Rook’s antics. “I’ll head back to Ramshackle then, thanks for everything Rook,” you smiled at the hunter. You turned to collect your things from the table, and after bidding the pair goodbye and goodnight, you trekked back to Ramshackle with Rook who insisted on walking you back.

As you walked, Rook regaled you with tales of the Queen and her Huntsman, and at some point began reciting poetry after becoming so impassioned. You waited patiently, and as you neared the dorm he sighed. “One day, I wish to become as great a huntsman as he!” Rook closed his eyes, taking off his hat and clutching it to his chest.

You gave a small laugh, but your thoughts turned to your dream from earlier. “Something tells me you’re practically him already.”

———

Ok so ik that the wishing part should technically be Neige’s/Prince Florian’s part

but then I remembered that Florian had a hat with a feather in it and so does rook

And then I connected the dots and made this.

Also theater kid rook needs some time to shine too tbh and he canonically bursts into song according to Trey! What a guy lmao

Anyway thanks for reading this far, Epel’s part isn’t too far away! <3 thank you all for the support!!

#twisted wonderland #rook hunt #twst rook #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt x yuu #rook hunt x mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst rook hunt #twst yuu #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #calcified writing

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artist-issues · 8 months

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I know, “enough with Snow White, Rapunzel!”

But I was thinking about now part of the “One Song” sequence that I think says so much with so little.

It’s this part right here:

When he’s surprised her by joining in on her song (which is literally about the love she wishes for most, a very vulnerable and revealing song) she understandably runs into the castle. That could be for lots of reasons: I think the one we jump to immediately is “stranger danger.” The Evil Queen could also have forbidden her to talk to anyone; she might also just be shy. Regardless—

This part where she looks down and seems to remember that she’s in rags, and think of her appearance. It’s so interesting.

I maintain that this is the part of the movie where the Prince and Snow White learn the core of who each other are, fall in love, and get engaged all in one song. But this part where she looks at her rags is such a good argument for that.

She’s listening to him start his song, and she literally looks down st what she’s wearing right at the moment when he says, in the song, for the first time, “only for you.”

It doesn’t matter if she’s thinking, “Oh, I’m about to go back out where he can see me, how do I look?” or “he loves me even though I’m dressed like this?” Doesn’t matter which. The animators hand-drew this moment of her looking at what she’s wearing, not when she first realizes he’s there, but after that—when he declares his love for her.

He’s expressing that she’s won his heart, and she’s realizing that she’s in rags. He’s choosing her even though she’s dressed like a scullery made. He doesn’t know she’s a princess, you also have to remember that. So obviously she’s still the Fairest of All in spite of what she wears, but her clothes also signify her place in society, and that’s still not stopping him.

No wonder she follows this up by going out onto the balcony, favoring him with a smile, and sending him reciprocation by way of a kiss on a dove. No wonder she instantly accepts him—not just because she’s a love-starved child who’s longing for her dream to come true, but because of who he is demonstrating himself to be.

He’s a guy who heard her deepest wish and was bold and secure enough to come offer to fulfill it—even though she’s a scullery maid dressed in rags. Even though he has no assurance of being accepted. Even though she ran away. He’s not afraid to tell her that he has one love that has possessed him, thrilling him through, and wants to be constant and true and give it to her.

If a guy were confident and secure in who he is enough to hear your fondest desires, and treat them gently, and offer to give them to you no matter what, even though there appears to be a huge class disparity between you and you didn’t exactly respond in a gracious manner off the bat, wouldn’t you feel like you’d found a treasure of a human? No wonder.

No wonder she’s able to have faith in his promise and sing “Someday my Prince Will Come.” What a prince he is!

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warrioreowynofrohan · 18 days

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Silmarillion Daily - Of Menegroth

Today’s Silmarillion Daily contains two events - one is the building/carving of Menegroth and the other, happening around the same time in Valinor, is the births of Turgon and Finrod.

Here’s the part on Menegroth:

Now Melian had much foresight, after the manner of the Maiar; and when the second age of the captivity of Melkor had passed, she counselled Thingol that the Peace of Arda would not last forever. He took thought therefore how he should make for himself a kingly dwelling, and a place that should be strong, if evil were to awake again in Middle-earth; and he sought aid and counsel of the Dwarves of Belegost. They gave it willingly, for they were unwearied in those days and eager for new works; and though the Dwarves ever demanded a price for all that the did, whether with delight or with toil, at this time they held themselves paid. For Melian taught them much that they were eager to learn, and Thingol rewarded them with many fair pearls. These Círdan gave to him, for they were got in great number in the shallow waters about the Isle of Balar; but the Naugrim had not before seen their like, and they held them dear. One there was as great as a dove’s egg, and its sheen was as starlight on the foam of the sea; Nimphelos it is named, and the chieftain of the Dwarves of Belegost prized it above a mountain of wealth.

Therefore the Naugrim laboured long and gladly for Thingol, and devised for him mansions after the fashion of their people, delved deep in the earth. Where the Esgalduin flowed down, and parted Neldoreth from Region, there rose in the midst of the forest a rocky hill, and the river ran at its feet, There they made the gates of the hall of Thingol, and they built a bridge of stone over the river, by which alone the gates could be entered. Beyond the gates wide passages ran down to high halls and chambers far below that were hewn in the living stone, so many and so great that that dwelling was named Menegroth, the Thousand Caves.

But the Elves also had part in that labour, and Elves and Dwarves together, each with their own skill, there wrought out the visions of Melian, images of the wonder and beauty of Valinor beyond the Sea. The pillars of Menegroth were hewn in the lines of the beeches of Oromë, stock, bough, and leaf, and they were lit with lanterns of gold. The nightingales sang there as in the gardens of Lórien; and there were fountains of silver, and basins of marble, and floors of many-coloured stones. Carven figures of beasts and birds there ran upon the walls, or climbed upon the pillars, or peered among the branches entwined with many flowers. And as the years passed Melian and her maidens filled the halls with woven hangings wherein could be read the deeds of the Valar, and many things that had befallen in Arda since its beginning, and shadows of things that were yet to be. That was the fairest dwelling of any king that has ever been east of the Sea.

And when the building of Menegroth was achieved, and there was peace in the realm of Thingol and Melian, the Naugrim yet came ever and anon over the mountains and went in traffic about the lands; but they went seldom to the Falas, for they hated the sound of the sea and feared to look upon it. To Beleriand there came no other rumour or tidings of the world without.

There’s another tidbit about Menegroth in History of Middle-earth (The Peoples of Middle-earth, “The problem of Ros”):

…the great Hall of the Throne of Elwë in the midst of his stronghold of Menegroth…was called the Menelrond [heaven-dome], because by the arts and aid of Melian its high arched roof had been adorned with silver and gems set in the order and figures of the stars in the great Dome of Valmar in Aman, whence Melian came.

The section further states that Elwing named Elrond in memory of this place, and that this was held to be prophetic, as it foreshadowed Elrond choosing the kindred of the Eldar and “carrying on the lineage of King Elwë [Footnote: Also also that of Turgon; though he oreferred that of Elwë, who was not under the ban that was laid on the Exiles.]”, while Elros, named for water, crossed the seas and became King of Númenor.

I feel like Menegroth in the passage above comes about as close as anything else we see to Eru’s ideal for the Ainur and the Eruhíni: dwarves and elves and a Maia all working together in Middle-earth to make something beautiful with their different skills and knowledge. The decision to do it in incited by the awareness of danger, but that leads not to hostility but to cooperation and beauty. It’s not in Valinor, but it recalls much of Valinor and of the Valar: the carvings of trees and woodland creatures recall the forests of Oromë, the nightingales the gardens of Lórien, the tapestries of history (and visions of the future) the halls of Vairë and Mandos. Different peoples get a glimpse of things they don’t fully understand, but are drawn to: the dwarves can’t stand the sea, but they nonetheless love Círdan’s pearls.

This is what makes the way Menegroth ends such an absolute tragedy, and it is what makes Legolas and Gimli in The Lord of the Rings the redress of that tragedy: their visits to Aglarond and Fangorn, each understanding what the other loves, is a kind of echo of the unity of these caverns carved with trees and forest-creatures. They’re putting things right. (As, in a different way, Galadriel is putting Fëanor’s story right, and Elrond is putting Thingol’s specifically right.) Not putting things back exactly as they were, but healing them.

#i feel like this passage gets so overlooked #because “of the sindar” is a big flashback dropped in the middle of the return of the noldor #i like being able to see these sections in their chronological place #silmarillion daily #the silmarillion #tolkien #the lord of the rings #thingol #melian #dwarves #legolas #gimli #doriath

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mayullla · 1 year

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Artifact Set (Yan!ver): Torched Limerence Set

Flower: Beloved's Blazed Bloom

Feather: Beloved's Scorched Feather

Sands: Beloved's Scaled Clock

Goblet: Beloved's Charred Goblet

Circlet: Beloved's Smoldering Earings

Set Bonuses

2 Piece: Pyro DMG Bonus +15 They fall in love and if already in loved their love increases a certain amount to insanity.

4 Piece: When a character ---- Similar to how a small flame is lit will slowly become bigger if left unchecked. The character would slowly be becoming madly in love with their target that they could not think about anything than them. What was once innocent will slowly turn into mania as time goes on and the love is not returned.

How to Obtain

Source 1: Found in a domain at Monstade Source 2: Rarely found in chests.

Artifact Lore

An artifact set of a lover's infatuation that burned so bright it burned many people to ashes. A story about a woman falling in love with a man she could not attain so obsessively that at his wedding she torched her mansion burning her and the people within it.

Flower: Beloved's Blazed Bloom

This flower was the start of the obsession it was pure luck when the maiden saw her beloved face for the first filled with blossoms. She remembers the red flowers blooming around her and thought that it was faith. She took one and encased it to prevent the memory from forever rotting.

Feather: Beloved's Scorched Feather

A feather that belonged to a dove in the wedding of her beloved, the one who walked that aisle was not her but another woman. Running away she could not bare her anguish and late at night with a candle she lit the curtains on fire quietly watching as the dancing fire quickly consumed her entirety leaving not even her farewell letter to the man. What she hoped in the future was that if she would ever love again she would forever consume her lover with fire together her.

Sands: Beloved's Charred Clock

What was supposed to be a gift from the maiden to the man was shoved away as the man looked upon her with disgust and annoyance. He was tired of her adorations and told her to leave him. Heartbroken she still kept the clock closer to her in a special box hoping that one day this present that she so painstakingly picked would finally be lovingly accepted by the man.

Goblet: Beloved's Chipped Goblet

The maiden is known to be the fairest in the nation many men tried their hands at winning her heart yet many failed to capture it. The world was cruel as the maiden fell in love with the one who didn't love her. Their relationship could have been something beautiful as the maiden's heart was once clear but as she tried and tried, it slowly tainted into something ugly. As she grabbed the man's chest begging him to love her just as she loved him she was instead pushed away. This goblet was on his hand when it happened in the middle of a party and was thrown and forgotten only to be picked up by the maiden who was mocked by everyone in the banquet hall.

Circlet: Beloved's Smoldering Earrings

The pain was unbearable as the fire licked her skin and burned her dress. As she looked at the moon from the window of her room, the curtains burned brightly. She always thought that the moor was the brightest thing in the night but her thought changed as she thought that fire was brighter and closer than the moon that was so far away. Rather than be lonely like the moon so far away she thought that this would be the better end, numbed to the physical pain her heart too broken sleep quickly took her as she promised that she would never love again.

"No that would be too sad... If I ever fall in love again I would love them to the point it is like fire consuming the both of us."

What was left of her after the fire finally died down were these glass earrings. What was once hollow inside the glass orbs now has flaming ambers that never vanquished.

Note: Lowkey this was a random urge to write kind of thing. But still, hope you like it! Also thank you @nicebonescomrades as she had helped me with naming and gave me ideas for this post too!

#genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin writing #yandere writing #genshin artifacts #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #genshin x you #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere prompts #yandere

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the-puffinry · 1 year

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sicilian pigeon migration festival? The smell of butter as a sign of a goddess? Jupiter changed into a pigeon?? More sicilian (sacred) dove favoritism?? this is so much fun to read about.

"And at Eryx in Sicily, there is a certain time which the Sicilians call The Departure, at which time they say that the Goddess is departing into Africa: and at this time all the pigeons about the place disappear, as if they had accompanied the Goddess on her journey. And after nine days, when the festival called καταγώγια, that is to say The Return, is celebrated, after one pigeon has first arrived, flying across the sea like an avant-courier, and has flown into the temple, the rest follow speedily. And on this, all the inhabitants around, who are comfortably off, feast; and the rest clap their hands for joy. And at that time the whole place smells of butter, which they use as a sort of token of the return of the Goddess. But Autocrates, in his history of Achaia, says that Jupiter once changed his form into that of a pigeon, when he was in love with a maiden in Aegium, whose name was Phthia. But the Attic writers use the word also in the masculine gender, περιστερός. Alexis, in his People Running together, says—

For I am the white pigeon (περιστερὸς) of Venus; But as for Bacchus, he knows nothing more Than how to get well drunk; and nothing cares Whether 'tis new wine that he drinks or old.

[p. 623] But in his play of the Rhodian, or the Woman Caressing, he uses the word in the feminine gender; and says in that passage that the Sicilian pigeons are superior to all others—

Breeding within some pigeons from Sicily, The fairest shaped of all their species.

[...]

And Nicander, in the second book of his Georgics, mentions the Sicilian doves and pigeons, and says,—

And do you in your hall preserve a flock Of fruitful doves from Sicily or Dracontium, For it is said that neither kites nor hawks Incline to hurt those choice and sacred birds.

from The Deipnosophists by Athenaeus (late 2nd to early 3rd century CE).

#pigeons #sicily #birds in history #should i make that a tag??#Athenaeus

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artzychic27 · 1 year

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The Mad King could only watch and gently stroke his black and white hedgehog as his boyfriend raged and continued to smash every one of his mirrors, making sure each glass shard was broken down to the smallest fragment and could never be fixed. For a moment, he stopped and dragged his nails through his hair. But the King of Hearts knew better than to confront him now, because immediately after, he went back to destroying what was left of the mirrors.

“Oh, my sweet bandersnatch,” Nathaniel said softly and put the small animal in his crown to rest. He approached the noirette, carefully taking the large class shard out of his fist before pulling him in for an embrace. “What has that awful mirror said to you?” He shoots the gold-encrusted mirror a glare, making the haunting face behind the glass cower away. “SPEAK!” He demanded the mirror, and, unable to disobey, the mirror’s surface becomes fogged by a green mist before dissipating to show an image of that dreadful girl, Lila Porter, oh so kindly tending to an injured dove! Just the sight makes him sick.

“Lips red as a ruby, eyes shining like the sun, skin free of impurities. Mad King, do not make me say it once more, that Lila Porter-

Marc lets out an anguished cry before the magic mirror could continue and storms out of the room. While feeling his face for his nonexistent impurities, he cries about “That Porter brat being the fairest!” Nathaniel’s hands flew up to his mouth to stifle a gasp when he heard those words. Lila Porter, that peasant girl was fairer than his boyfriend? Nathaniel wants to follow Marc and console him in his time of need… But he has to deal with the mirror first.

The redhead seethed and looked around the room for something to break, but Marc shattered all of the mirrors to dust… Except for the Magic Mirror. It would teach it a lesson for insulting his King in such a way… Oh, but Marc would withhold talking to him for two whole minutes if he did so! And not being able to hear his angelic voice for so long is something he refuses to live without.

Taking a deep breath, he calms himself down before addressing the spirit in mirror. “The baby bird may fly. The snake, it may slither. But the magic mirror sits in the darkness forever to wither…” When the mirror doesn’t respond, he scowls and thunders, “YOU ARE TO NEVER DISRESPECT MY KING IN SUCH A WAY! He spared you, could have left you to burn in that palace while he and his brother escaped with their lives! The least you can do I see him the way I do!” He is perfection incarnate, and those who dare to even think about disagreeing will find themselves AT THE GUILLOTINE!”

On cue, a card guard enters with a marble bust of his father. He seizes it by the head and throws it against the wall, making it shatter into bits. Nathaniel tore his fingers through his hair, skewing his crown and causing the hedgehog to wake up and scurry off and onto his shoulder and let out a quiet chirp.

“Oh, Ziggy, I’m so sorry,” he apologized and brought the the small hedgehog into his hands. The mirror and card guard let out quiet breaths of relief as he walked out of the room and doted over his pet.

The King found himself in the grand foyer of the palace, walls adorned with playing card symbols and a potted rose bush at every turn. Humming to himself as he continued to stroke Ziggy’s quills, Nathaniel approached one of the rose bushes. While similar looking to the rest, if one looks at the pot close enough, they can see that the hearts decorating the surface are two shades later than the others. He takes one of the roses by its stem and gives it a little tug. The pot and the wall behind it disappear in a Cheshire fashion to reveal just one of the many hidden rooms in the palace.

This one, happens to lead to a room he reserved just special for his king, where he may experiment and come up with all sorts of toxins to test on the prisoners. It was a drastic shift from beheading them, but Nathaniel is willing to compromise now and then. When he and Marc took over his Kingdom, his way became their way. Besides, the guillotine tends to need repairs from overuse.

The King of Hearts took a moment to admire his boyfriend as he seemed to pour random toxins in his cauldron, but really, he had each one memorized, and there was no need to read any label on the bottles.

“… This very thing you were born with pleases us all,” Nathaniel begins to recite another riddle as he makes his way over to the noirette. “It's even capable of making men fall, while only experienced by me, it's treasured by all.”

Marc folds his arms and looks away. “Why don’t you ask Lila?”

“Dearest,” the redhead coos and cups Marc’s face with one hand. “I fell in love with the black void in place of your heart, the merciless glint in your eyes when one is in pain, and the way you care so for your loved ones.” Glancing at the reflective brooch pinned to his vest, he can see Prince Kiran narrowing his silver eyes at him past the glass. “Your beauty was merely a bonus.”

Marc’s lips curl into the faintest smile before he kisses Nathaniel’s cheek, making the red heart painted over his eye blend in with his face. “… I’m still going to kill Lila.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you.” Marc gives Ziggy a little scratch behind the ears before making his way back to the cauldron. “Want to try the hair comb again?”

“No, Lacey managed to feel her hair. It’s too fine for the comb to stay in,” Marc hisses and watches as the mix in the cauldron turn a toxic green color. “And I refuse to risk one of my corsets in case it doesn’t fit her… Do we have any apples?”

@imsparky2002 @msweebyness

#class of villainy #mlb au #Disney villains #evil queen #Queen of hearts #Snow White #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc x nathaniel #Disney au #evil boyfriends au

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incarnateirony · 2 months

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You cannot bind what you keep choosing to tug on, you keep only binding and attacking yourselves. This, like many, is an ongoing spell. Let's see how many of you she connects me to this time by your collective refusal to dismount me.

youtube

There's an evil choccy milk loving man living in the walls that hands out lemonade from AI jibberish, very Unknown. Happy listening!

Yes hello, Celestia. How many times did you have the Unknown fuck with your Door?

Oh you never told your cult about that, any more than you did the other messages? Drip, drip, drip, drip. I got that drip, drip, drip, drip.

Saturn comes back around to show you everything, calculate what we will and will not tolerate. You're desperate to control all and everything. Let go.

youtube

Calculate what we will or will not tolerate

Defining, Confining; And sinking deeper Controlling, Defining; And we're sinking deeper

Saturn comes back around to show you everything Lets you choose what you will and will not see and then Drags you down like a stone or lifts you up again Spits you out like a child, light and innocent

Saturn comes back around Lifts you up like a child or drags you down like a stone To consume you till you choose to let this go Choose to let this go

Give away the stone Let the oceans take and trans mutate this cold and fated anchor Give away the stone Let the waters kiss and trans mutate these leaden grudges into gold

youtube

To the fairest, dove.

#Youtube

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chloe-spade · 24 days

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Sour Apple Chapter 1: Whistle while you work

Once upon a time, there was a princess.

The fairest of them all,

Who defeated a dark evil and went on to live happily ever after.

But what happens when you are no longer the fairest?

What happens when the one thing you attribute your worth to…

is stripped away forever?

🍎

Lorelei walked into her room, after a day of many duties. She cursed the day that tired her out. She watched as the Mirror's face faded in within the dark atmosphere inside.

Her eyes darkened as she saw the mirror and took a breath.

She hated that she needed to ask, but what had become around her needed to be heard.

🍎

My mirror tell me what you see today

What word of those beyond these walls

🍎

"It seems another has taken your place…," The Mirror hummed.

Lorelei could only look in shock, when she heard. She whipped her head back at the mirror, her lips trembling. "No… no… you told me that couldn't happen."

"The fairest can only be fair for so long."

"But it's all I am… it's all I've ever been."

Lorelei refused her life was already going downhill. Ever since she was a young girl and now onto adulthood. A plague was following her, cursing those around her, and she was done. The Mirror saw this and grinned coyly.

"We all grow old, my dear."

🍎

Beauty is power and all you are

You are nothing now

🍎

But you're meant to help me," Lorelei hissed at the mirror, now glaring at it. Her fists were clenched, blood underneath her nails from how hard they were clenched.

🍎

Though there are ways to gain it all back

I can show you how

Apples don't fall far from where the branch has been

But you'll do more than her

🍎

"I'm nothing like her." Loreli scowled coldly, "And I will never be like her."

The mention of her made Lorelei scowl. The pain she has dealt with from that wicked woman was too much for her to remember, and that damn Mirror knew that, as it smiled once again.

"Really?" The Mirror faux a question, "I see so many things that have made you similar."

"Enough."

🍎

Just tell me what spell I need for this to disappear

Make things as they were

All I've ever been

Gone in seconds flat

Pretty as a rose

Was all I ever had

Now I have a chance

To fix what was replaced

To let this kingdom know

I won't take second place

I can't lose to some nobody

(You can't lose)

I won't back down

(Don't back down)

Take what I have earned all these years

(Take what you've earned)

I'll claim my crown

(Claim your crown)

I cannot be beaten when it's all I've had

(You can't be beaten when it's all you had)

🍎

The story starts again anew

Watch as the chaos now ensues…

🍎

"Mirror, Mirror on my wall," Loreli spoke, gulping as she spoke the question, "Who is the fairest of them all?"

"Although, my queen, though fair may be, I see someone that surpassed the beauty of thee."

"Who?" Lorelei demanded, "You have already told me that someone has taken my place, but I demand who dares take my place? After so long."

"The person I see has fair skin that has been blessed by spring, eyes just as beautiful as the cloudless sky above and lovely curly hair that has reminded those of beautuful lavenders."

"Epel," Lorelei growled, rushing towards a nearby window, and opening the curtains.

She saw the young boy she has damned years ago, now 15, almost 16. He was now cleaning the stairwell that leads to the gardens, on the last step. His humming was angelic, lovely doves surrounded him as he did, and he didn't mind it.

It made her sick to her stomach, seeing the boy that destroyed her life, being so peaceful, though his look of annoyance from time to time made her smile ever so little.

"I don't have to be concerned about Epel," Lorelei scoffed, "he's nothing. Just a mere commoner who works for me." She walks away from the window and looks at the mirror one last time before leaving her room.

But on her way down, she looked out a window once again to see Epel, rinsing the stairwell, and running out of water. He groaned softly and walked over to the water well, ready to refill it.

🍎

Epel looks down at the well and sighs to himself as he moves the bucket down.

It was so long that he started to do chores, mainly scrubbing and dusting, but no matter what, he was so annoyed at everything and small things for revenge made things easier for Epel and his newly distressed state. However, he found some odd solace in Vil and a new hunter named Rook, who always found some food to feed him and clean him in private if necessary.

He was grateful for them, he had to admit. Even the accompanying letters from Jack made Epel hopeful for a new day, a day when he could escape from the chains he was bound by.

He just sighed and started to walk back to the well, in the middle of the gardens. Being by the well again reminded him of his departed mother, and her words whenever they are by the well itself. He looked around at the doves around him.

"Hey," he whispered to the doves, "Wanna know a secret?"

The doves cooed in response, though it made Epel feel crazy, talking to birds.

"Promise not to tell?" Epel smiles.

🍎

We are standing by a wishing well

Make a wish into the well

That's all you have to do

And if you hear it echoing

Your wish will soon come true

🍎

Epel could see his mother by the reflection like she always does whenever she is by the well every time. His hands touch the cobblestone as he starts to sing, and the well reflects his voice.

🍎

I'm wishing (I'm wishing)

For the one I love

To find me (To find me)

Today (Today)

I'm hoping (I'm hoping)

And I'm dreaming of

The nice things (The nice things)

He'll say (He'll say)

🍎

Many hear the beautiful song, even some nearby animals. It always reminded those of the previous queen, whom Epel always seemed to mirror at times, even when he was mischievous and stubborn. Regardless, he's still their prince, no matter what he looks like or what he does.

🍎

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah (Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah)

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah

🍎

From far away, wolf ears perked up from the beautiful song and followed the melody to the wall. Daring to hear the voice once again, he begins to climb the wall, the beautiful voice leading him.

Once he saw Epel, he could only stare and listen.

Epel, however, didn't notice.

🍎

I'm wishing (I'm wishing)

For the one I love

To find me (To find me)

Today (Today)

Today!

🍎

Epel gasped as he saw Prince Jack Howl in the reflection of the water and looked to see Jack across from him. He tripped almost himself from shock, but he managed to keep himself up.

"What are you doing here?" Epel demanded, "You know what will happen if Lorelei finds you. You'll be in big trouble or worse killed."

"Epel,"

Jack's hands held Epel's softly but firmly, stopping Epel from running away.

🍎

Now that I've found you

Hear what I have to say

🍎

Jack held Epel close, as they slowly danced, with Epel tripping from time to time, but he was interested in why Jack was even here in the first place.

🍎

One song, I have but one song

One song, only for you

One heart, tenderly beating

Ever entreating, constant and true

🍎

Epel blushes at Jack's song, feeling his heart beating in love. Epel didn't know how to express it, especially with him being secluded for 3 long years. How to express love when it's completely foreign and forgotten by someone?

Epel just managed to keep in.

The one thing he couldn't keep in was Jack presenting a beautiful scarlet ring to him, putting it on Epel's finger.

🍎

One love that has possessed me

One love, thrilling me through

One song, my heart keeps singing

Of one love, only for you

🍎

Epel looked up at Jack, and then back at the ring. He didn't know what to say, or even how to say it.

Was Jack asking what Epel thought he was? Marriage? Now?

Epel stood in the garden, staring at the ring in his hand. It was a beautiful ring, no doubt, but he couldn't help but feel hesitant about accepting Jack's proposal.

He loved Jack, that much was true. Jack was kind, caring, and always there for him. But the thought of being married, of being tied down to one person for the rest of his life, scared him.

He had always been a free spirit, never wanting to be tied down to anything or anyone. But he knew that Jack was different. He loved him, and he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him.

But still, the hesitation lingered.

"Hey," he said, taking Epel's hand in his. "Did you look at the ring?"

Epel nodded, still unsure of what to say. Jack could sense his hesitation, and he pulled him into a tight hug.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

Epel took a deep breath before speaking. "I love you, Jack. I really do. But the thought of being married scares me. I don't know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment."

Jack listened patiently, his arms still wrapped around Epel. "I understand," he said. "Marriage is a big step, and it's not something you should do if you're not ready. But just know that I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here."

Epel smiled, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he said, leaning in for a kiss. "I do want to spend the rest of my life with you, Jack. I just need some time to think about it."

Jack smiled back, his eyes filled with love. "Take all the time you need," he said. "I'll be here, waiting for you."

Epel smiles and holds onto the hug.

"But why did you propose to me?" Epel pondered.

"I got suspicious when I came to visit you after the party years ago. When we wrote to each other, you wrote that we should meet in secret after, but you never stated why. But every time I saw you, you looked like you had been crying, or just incredibly tired. Sure, you are still just as rowdy, but I knew something else was wrong. So, I asked Vil," Jack looked at Epel with sadness, "Why didn't you tell me that Lorelei was doing such horrible stuff to you?"

"Even if I did," Epel sighs, "I can't do anything about it. She's queen and if I escape, she'll send her best hunter to find me. Even his son too. I can't risk it, even though I just want to do so much to destroy her and tell the people of the horrible things she has done."

Epel's eyes darkened as he looked up at the window, where her bedroom his. "I want her to suffer, even just for a small bit, just for a day…I want her to pay for what she did to me. Sure, pranks can go a long way and I've been doing thousands, but I want something that could just make her learn that I am not someone who will just sit idly! I am the prince and she reduced me to this."

Jack stopped Epel, holding his hands again. Epel's face was full of rage, but a small hint of sadness. He knew Epel kept so much in and now, there was no one he could talk to about it.

"What about Vil?"

"His mother forbade him from even looking at me," Epel explained, "but he always made me some sort of dinner and had his hunter give it to me. Vil…Vil is vain, but not like his mother, and I'm glad I got to see that before all of this."

Jack made another proposal, "What if we ran away together?"

"Run away?"

Jack nodded, "I will make a vow. Epel, I vow to protect you, and I will make sure my kingdom will protect you as well. You can't live like this, Epel, and I decided to make this decision for you. Will you accept?"

Epel looked at what he was doing, cleaning the stairwell, and looked back at the well. He was practically wasting his life here, and even though his memories of his mother and father were there, that has been tarnished by the wicked woman he once affectionally called his stepmother.

He wanted an escape, and he'll get that.

"Yes," Epel answered, "tonight. Meet me here tonight, and we'll leave to your kingdom."

Jack smiled and gave Epel a small but passionate kiss.

"I'll be here."

Epel blushed as Jack leaped over the wall, disappearing from his view. He looks back at the well brings up the pale now full of water and begins scrubbing the stairs again, but with a smile and a song.

🍎

"He has done it, Roi du Poison!" Rook announced in delight, " Monsieur Dur à cuire has pronounced his love with Monsieur Crabapple, and they plan to run away. " Rook swooned with a grin, "It was a very romantic thing to witness."

"Good," Vil spoke, brushing his hair in the mirror, "but this is not over, Rook. You and I both know that."

"Ah, yes, I do know. Père has been keeping an eye on Monsieur Crabapple as well. I do fear that it may result in something bad happening to him, and I would feel immense guilt for it."

Vil looks back at Rook, "Then we should be cautious. Now, go on and leave me be. My mother is very impatient and I hate to be tardy to lunch."

Rook nodded and just like that disappeared off to do who knows what.

Vil could only just take a breath and began his walk to his dining room, now worried for his step-brother. Now he has to figure out how to protect him, even when he is far away.

To Vil's surprise, his mother was not at the dining area, like she was supposed to. She was nowhere to be found, which Vil found suspicious, and not trusting the situation, he went to the throne room. If anything, Lorelei was doing some extra work and forgot the time, it wasn't the first time she had done this.

"I want you to do something for me, my dear huntsman," he heard Lorelei speak, "you are the only person I can trust with this task, and I know you will do this without much hesitation."

"What is that, my queen?"

Vil watched as his mother presented a box, deep red with golden accents around it with a heart as its pin. She held it to the huntsman, her face showing evil intentions.

"You will kill Epel, take his heart, and put it in this box. I do not expect sloppy work from you."

Vil covered his mouth, horrified.

"Your Highness," The huntsman gasped, "Epel is still the prince! You can't just plan to murder him!"

"Enough. If you dare define me, your head might as well be on my stand for everyone to see." Lorelei threatened.

"R-right, your majesty," he gulped.

Vil stepped back and quickly rushed back to the dining area. He was panting, resting by a nearby window. He felt his heart racing, now scared for himself and Epel.

What made the situation worse was that he knew that his mother was not one to kid about something as dark as murder. Plotting murder like it was nothing against Epel, the same person who had lost both parents in such a span that it was upsetting.

He didn't know what to do, other than warn Epel.

Vil jumped as Lorelei and her huntsman walked out. He tried to keep his composure but it was difficult for Vil, knowing his mother's murder plan. So he just sat on the dining table.

He hoped that Rook would come to his aid.

Oh, what a lovely prayer Vil thought as Rook entered, with his usual gradient smile. Vil mentioned him close, so he walked closer and leaned down for Vil to whisper.

"Roi Du Poison, I feel something was amiss so I came right away," Rook spoke. "Now what has happened?

"My mother plans to kill Epel," Vil explained, causing a dramatic gasp from Rook. "She enlisted your father to do the job, and as evidence, he must grab a box and put his heart in it."

"As a prize? Now that is horrible, Roi Du Poison," Rook whispered back, trying to hide his shock.

"I need you to join your father and Epel, protect him. And give him one last message from me." Vil ordered.

"What is that?" Rook asked.

"Run, as far as he could," Vil spoke, "anywhere but not here."

"Of course, your majesty," Rook grinned with a smile, watching his father leave, "I shall depart now, please do wait for me."

Vil smiled as Rook kissed his hand goodbye and followed his father outside.

🍎

Epel found it strange, being outside the palace walls. His hair was combed and dressed in nice princely clothing, something that he didn't exactly miss, but that would've been a lie. Rook even found an old necklace that belonged to his mother before her death, and he wore it proudly as he felt the breeze around him.

Sure, he was still accompanied by Rook and his father, but even they could not stop this new sense of freedom he longed for.

"The air is nice this fine day, Monsioer Crabapple," Rook sighs contently, "such beautiful clouds and magnifique flowers, in such a beautiful spring."

Epel rolled his eyes at Rook and began to walk forward. He might just pick some new flowers for his mother and father, as the ones on their graves have been wilted for years and need replacement. He began to pick some flowers, mainly red roses and white lilies, the kingdom's symbol for their strange but romantic love, both on different ends of social status, and their love made it work.

His thoughts were interrupted by a chirp, a very sad one.

He followed to see a sad baby bluebird, picked it up carefully, and smiled.

"Are you ok?" Epel softly whispered, "What happen to you, little bird?"

Epel looked up and got up, "Ah, you must've felt out of your nest, didn't you?" Epel chuckled, found a nearby rock, and began to climb it to the nest, holding onto the branch as he helped the bird back inside, the bird chirping happily and nuzzling against Epel's cheek in appreciation.

"You are welcome," Epel spoke and climbed down.

Epel backed away carefully and watched the baby bird nuzzle against their parents, making Epel feel happy but a tinge of sadness was there.

Once he turned around, he saw The Hunter brandish a dagger towards Epel with inhuman speed. Epel gasped and ducked to avoid the sudden attack. He grabbed a rock and struck The Hunter in his head, defending himself. This made The Hunter stumble back, trying to recover.

"Monsier Crabapple!" Rook called out and rushed over to Epel.

"What is going on!?" Epel demanded, "Your father was trying to kill me!"

"Oh, I did not wish to tell you this," Rook sighed, "but the Queen has asked my father to harm you, to kill you. That why I am here, to lead you away! Far from here, and to safety!"

"What? But-!"

"Go! Please go!" Rook pleaded, making Epel stop for a moment. "It is for your own safety."

Rook gave Epel a basket of food and a lantern.

Epel didn't need more convincing as he began to run away, disappearing into the woods.

"Damn you, boy!" Rook's father hissed, "Do you realize what you have done!? That woman will have your head!"

"I rather it be mine than Epel's," Rook spoke back, "and I follow my prince, not the queen."

🍎

Epel felt trees grab onto him as he began to run away, the sun now non-existent in the dark woods. His mind felt like everything around him was more monstrous, especially for someone who never left the castle before.

The hoots of owls and the growls of wolves scared him every time he was distracted. He hated how he felt his heart beat with fear, as he continued to walk through.

But the lack of noise when he went further made him hear whispers, insults, or evil laughs.

It made him run and not look back. He suddenly became overwhelmed and the trees began to grab him again, almost falling into a cliff. Well, he did fall into the lake that he thought was alligators and he was hyperventilating.

He ran before he collapsed and covered his ears.

"Leave me alone!" He screamed, "I Don't want to be here!!"

A scared mewl made him stop.

He saw a small rabbit now scared, because of his screams.

He looked around as the clouds moved away, revealing the sunlight and his surroundings. He was surrounded by animals of every kind, birds, rabbits, dears, turtles. They were all afraid because of Epel's screams.

He sighs, now calming down.

"I'm…I'm sorry," Epel sighs, "I didn't mean to scared you. I just happened to have a bad day and I took it badly. You didn't deserve that and I'm so sorry again. I just wanted to scream because I was afraid, and I don't want to be afraid and look what I did. Scaring animals. What do you do when you are scared?"

The baby bird chirped happily and started to whistle towards Epel.

"You sing?"

The baby bird whistled again with Epel singing along, creating a melody with each other. It made Epel happy as he got up, and walked towards the birds, continuing to sing.

🍎

With a smile and a song

Life is just a bright, sunny day

Your cares fade away

And your heart is young

With a smile and a song

All the world seems to waken anew

Rejoicing with you

As the song is sung

There's no use in grumbling

When raindrops come tumbling

Remember, you're the one

Who can fill the world with sunshine

🍎

He lets the animals surround him and lets him pet them. They were relaxed now and were happy to meet a new friend.

🍎

When you smile and you sing

Everything is in tune and it's spring

And life flows along

With a smile and a song

🍎

"I really feel quite happy now," Epel laughed, "I'm sure I'll get along somehow. Everything's going to be alright, but I do need a place to sleep at night."

Epel realized that was a problem for him, as he looked around at the animals.

"I can't sleep in the ground like you, or in a tree the way you do, and I'm sure no nest could possibly be big enough for me. Maybe you know where I can stay? In the woods somewhere?"

The birds tweeted happily and flew around him, pulling on his cape.

"Oh? Are you taking me there?" Epel grins.

Led by the animals, Epel was shown a beautiful old cottage, with flowers of all varieties covering it.

It made everything for Epel.

He rushed towards it and looked around, seeing the window clouded and not cleaned, and a disgusting smell filled his nose which he covered.

"It looks nice, but it does not smell friendly," Epel coughed as opened the door. Everything was around and full of dust, the mess was everywhere and the smell had gotten worse. He sighed as he entered the cottage and looked for some sort of well…anything, food, drinks, clothing but everything was so disorganized and it was disturbing for Epel.

"Seven little chairs? Are we in a childrens' house? Those poor children, they live in this dump."

He looked at the animals and puffed his cheeks.

"Well, we have to clean this messy place if I am gonna stay here," Epel sighed, picking up the broom.'

He started to hum to himself and he began to sweep. He slowly got carried away as he began to sing to himself, which made the animals around him clean.

🍎

Just whistle while you work

And cheerfully together, we can tidy up the place

So hum a merry tune, hmm-mmm

It won't take long when there's a song to help you set the pace

🍎

Epel whistles as he begins to grab some of the dishes and wash them, with the animals providing soap and water. His humming was contagious as squirrels began to sweep the insides and corners of the cottage, and birds and deer helped them with the clothes, washing and hanging them.

Epel swept again, as more of a finishing touch to the floor.

🍎

And as you sweep the room, imagine that the broom

Is someone that you love, and soon

You'll find you're dancing to the tune

🍎

Epel could only imagine him being with Jack once again like that morning, dancing around, actually having fun.

🍎

When hearts are high, the time will fly

So whistle while you work

🍎

Epel happily cleaned everything around, adding some lovely flowers to the dining table, and decided to create some dinner for himself, some hazelnut soup, and a nice meal after cleaning until nighttime arrived. He was feeling safe and now sleepy.

"I wonder what's upstairs?" Epel questioned, climbing up the stairs.

He saw a nice room with seven little beds with names imprinted onto them, but he couldn't see because of how dark it was. He yawns and feels the bed, immediately sinking. He managed to be comfortable and yawned to himself.

He closed his eyes, drifting up to dreamland as the birds covered him with a beautiful blanket. May the gods above protect the prince from all the horribles of the world.

#twisted wonderland #twst #sour apple #epel felmier #jack howl #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #original characters #original work #epeljack #epel x jack #snow white au #yes #this song was snow white villain song from Lydia The Bird #or was it bard?#please do check her out #her music is incredible

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jknerd · 1 year

Text

APHRODITE

Name: Aphrodite

Aliases: Venus (Roman)

Age: Immortal

Gender: Female

Occupation(s): Goddess of Love, beauty and passion

Relatives: Uranus (biological father), Zeus (foster father), Titans/Giants/Cyclopes/Erinyes and the Meliae (siblings), Hephaestus (1st husband; divorced), Ares (2nd husband), Erotes (sons; through Ares), Phobos (son; through Ares), Deimos (son; through Ares), rest of children through other affairs, Psyche (daughter-in-law; through Eros)

Interests: Glamming up, gossiping with love goddesses, viewing/reading romance or pornographic literatures, pampering Ares and their family

Character

Aphrodite, AKA Venus, is Greco-Roman goddess of love, beauty, passion, and desire. Biologically from Uranus, but adopted by Zeus, she become one of the 12 Olympians. The victor of golden apple, she is renowned as “the most Fairest Goddess”. Before marriage to Hephaestus, she had developed attraction towards Ares and anonymously send him rare blue flowers to comfort him since his divorce with abusive Enyo. After marriage, she finds relief in Ares’ companion whenever Hephaestus was out for work. It was revealed she was the first to make initial advances towards Ares, but the lad insist to remain friends while flattered by her attraction towards him. She then overheard many advances Zeus made towards women, then decided to use one of the tactics to ensnare Ares for good; she turned herself into a little dove, provoking Ares’ sensitive side on his way home from war. As he cared for the dove in home, she transformed back to herself, surprising him with petals of blue roses as she professed her love to him. However, their love affair was exposed to the gods by the trap set by Hephaestus who have heard of her and Ares’ relationship from Helios and Apollo. Instead of feeling humiliated, she blamed Zeus for forcing a marriage with someone she doesn’t love and asked for divorce. While later, she was pregnant with Ares’ child as she finally divorced with Hephaestus, giving birth to a boy and named him Eros.

Proud of her “thick yet voluptuous” appearance and status, Aphrodite had never felt insecurities of herself. She enjoys glamming herself with beautiful gowns, accessories and cosmetics. While she have several flings with deities/humans, Ares is her “eternally prime husband”. Understanding Ares’ jealous and vindictive behavior exceeds his own mother’s, she made her ways to soothe him. At the same time, she can be possessive and protective of Ares as she prevented Eos’ attempt to steal her husband away. While she is awkward with her daughter-in-law Psyche, she is a caring grandmother of Hedone. According to many deities, she is the “Dom/top” of the relationship with Ares.

In Fairly Odd Parents AU: As Aphrodite is mother of Eros/Cupid, she occasionally visits Fairy World to see her Erotes children working. She gleefully kissed her son’s cheek for winning “The Most Beautiful Fairy” by well-known godchild named Timantha “Timmy” Turner. Seeing how her son struggle to find the girl’s true love, Aphrodite decides to visit Timmy in person and analyzes her relationship with boys who have feelings for her. Although no longer have authority as Olympian gods were, she helps her son Eros to keep the promise of finding the girl’s true love.

In Courage the Cowardly Girl AU: Being one of the deities who left Mt. Olympus, she was seen facepalming when Zeus fell for Courage Bagge. Aphrodite was flabbergasted to see 2 millennia of imprisonment had made Zeus forgot how to interact with women. Despite this discovery, Aphrodite was amused how many suitors Courage unknowingly has.

In Grimm Adventures of Billie & Manny AU: In Endsville, Aphrodite is a well-known celebrity as a singer, actress, model and host of matchmaking reality shows. Occasionally, she attend as judge for beauty pageants—as she admits she LOVES this competition—and had seen Billie’s potential as “Miss Endsville”. Even in Underworld, she appeared as judge for “Miss Underworld”. She was seen clapping when La Llorona won the pageant.

In Camp Lakebottom AU: She was first introduced by young merman Esmeraldus who fell for Mackenzie, describing her as observers of all kinds of love existing around the world. When Esmeraldus attempted to abduct Mackenzie, he was scolded by Aphrodite for attempt to take her with force. Seeing the romantic connection between Mackenzie and Carry, Aphrodite was seen smiling in satisfaction, commenting how the lost ones found each other.

In Disney Retelling - Heracles AU: Aphrodite appears as major character, either when it comes to characters’ relationship problems or when Ares torment her former flings out of jealousy. She is often seen talking to Persephone or Megara in spare time of relaxing. Also, she is the host of Aphrodisia Dance, annual festival taking place in midsummer. When Hylas, Heracles’ childhood friend, confessed that he has romantic feelings for Heracles throughout years, Aphrodite supports the potential relationship he and the hero would have. But at the same time, she mischievously smiles when witnessing many love interests Heracles have.

...More AU appearance ideas coming soon~!

#Cartoon Crossovers #Greek Mythology #Greco-Roman Mythology #Aphrodite #Venus #Fairly Oddparents AU #Courage the Cowardly Girl AU #Grimm Adventures of Billie & Manny AU #Camp Lakebottom AU #Disney Retelling AU #Disney Hercules AU

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softlytowardthesun · 2 years

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Curious: what are your favorite type of fairy stories listed in the Aarne-Thompson enciclopedia classification?

First off, it's nice to meet you and thank you for asking! Secondly, I want to preface this: I'm not a student or a scholar of folklore as a genre, and my knowledge of ATU is limited to what I've managed to find online over the years. More often than not, it's either something I've found on JStor in college, something in a Maria Tatar book, or this website.

Still, I love seeing these stories and all their variations across times and places. Without further ado:

306: The Worn-Out Dancing Shoes: I love the mystery element of this story, and I'm forever intrigued by all the variations of the other world the women travel to, whether it's the palace of Indra, the court of Satan, or something else entirely. Many versions attribute their actions to some curse that must be broken to achieve a heterosexual happy ending, but it's in the in-between that this story really sings to me. And a not-quite-variant of it, "Kate Crackernuts", may just be my favorite fairy tale of all time; how often is the ugly (or at least, "less bonny") stepsister the hero of her own story?

310: The Maiden in the Tower: I'm a sucker for a magical chase, and Rapunzel's relatives absolutely provide. My favorites include "Snow-White-Fire-Red", "The Canary Prince", and "Louliyya, Daughter of Morgan".

311: Magic Flight: Stories of magical escapes from dire situations, like "Sweetheart Roland", "The White Dove", "The Fox Sister", and "The Tail of the Princess Elephant".

407: The Flower Girl: Plants who become women or vice versa, often coupled with an escape from an abusive romance. I love these stories purely for the folkloric weirdness factor: "A Riddling Tale" (shout-out to Erstwhile for introducing me to this one), "The Gold-Spinners", "The Girl in the Bay Tree", and "Pretty Maid Ibronka".

451: Brothers as Birds: This one's purely on my love for the Grimms' "Six Swans" and "Seven Ravens". I love a resilient heroine who draws her strength from her family. I admittedly haven't read many others, but these two mean so much to me they get a place here entirely on the strength of these two.

510B: All-Kinds-Of-Fur: The story of a woman's escape from her incestuous father who then gets a Cinderella ending. I admire the heroine's courage in face of an all too real type of monster. Grimms' is a favorite, as is "Florinda" (which could also qualify as 514), "Princess in a Leather Burqa", "The She-Bear", and "Nya-Nya Bulembu".

514: The Shift of Sex: I first came across this story when I stumbled on Psyche Z. Ready's terrific thesis some years ago and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since. All of these variations from all over the world -- I find it cathartic to know that we've been asking these questions about gender and sexuality forever, and a happy ending is an imaginative possibility.

709: Fairest of Them All: This I owe squarely to Maria Tatar's anthology from a few years ago. Unfortunately, this also means that there are several I can't find online, including "Kohava the Wonder Child" (a rare Jewish heroine in a genre infamous for how it absorbs anti-Semitism) and "King Peacock" (one of the few African American fairy tales I know, also included in Tatar's collaboration with Henry Louis Gates). I love "Princess Aubergine", "Little Toute-Belle", and especially "Gold-Tree and Silver-Tree" - my little bi self was elated to stumble across a princess who lives happily ever after with her kind and gentle limbo husband and her cunning and resourceful wife.

Even as a hobbyist, I love folklore and fairy tales. I love these little glimpses into other cultures, and I love the way these story structures act as magnets for so many nuances of people's lives across history. Still, I hope this answers your question, gives a glimpse into my experience with fairy tales as a genre, or (at the very least) gives you some new and interesting stories to read!

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 1 year

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So for your Music Festival, I think I've gotta go with "With or Without You" and Loki x Reader. That song is the one I keep thinking of. But only if it inspires you!! 💚💚💚

MCU FANFIC MUSIC FESTIVAL, ENTRY #6

"Of Love and Bono"

Pairing: Loki x Reader Summary: You explain fan culture to Loki, attempting to quell his growing jealousy as he takes you to a concert for your birthday. Word Count: 750

Your excited screeches echoed through the office, causing Tony Stark and Bruce Banner to come bursting into your small, private HR office on the ninth floor of Avenger Tower. “What? What’s wrong?” Bruce asked, his voice louder than it usually was when he wasn’t twelve feet tall and green.

They found you sitting on your desk, waving two tickets over your head as if they were the greatest prize ever found. Loki sat next to you, looking quietly amused, as well as proud of himself.

“Best birthday present ever!!!” You squealed.

“If those are Jets tickets, you may want to get your money back, Blitzen,” snarked Tony.

You shook your head, still high with excitement. “He got me U2 tickets to the Garden tonight! It’s been sold out for MONTHS! How did you even get these?!”

Loki smiled and looked into your eyes. “I would do anything for you to have everything your heart desires, my dove.”

You were grinning like an idiot. “But that’s not even the best part! HE GOT ME A BACKSTAGE PASS!”

Tony Stark shrugged. “Only one?”

Loki nodded. “Even I could only do so much while matching wits with the Ticket Master.”

“I literally get to meet and shake hands with the Lord of my Teenage Idolatry, The Bard of My Soul, the Voice of My Generation…okay, my parents’ generation, BUT STILL! Bono! I get to meet BONO!”

Loki chuckled, hiding a hint of insecurity that was only just beginning to tug at his brain. “As I said, anything for you, Y/N.”

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

You spent a ridiculously long time getting ready that night, to the point you were almost late to the show. You volleyed back and forth from “total fangirling slut” to “definitely cool and just here to shake hands” back to “fairest in the land and gives zero fucks.” You decided in the end to go for a less-desperate look, choosing a simple, approachable blouse and jeans, focusing instead on perfecting your makeup and hair.

“Aren’t you only allowed to meet him for a few minutes?” asked Loki, the bitterness in his voice growing, startling you.

“Are…you okay?” you asked, turning around.

“It’s just…the way you carry on about this Mono Man--”

“--Bono,” you instantly corrected. “And it isn’t like I’m planning to run off with him.”

Loki shrugged. “I don't really understand why you swoon over a musician so enthusiastically if your goal isn’t to bed him.”

“Loki, Loki, Loki,” you said, lightly kissing his nose. “For your information, Bono has been married longer than I’ve been alive. He has a daughter who is older than I am.”

Your lover still looked a little confused. “On Asgard, musicians are considered talent, but it is simply their chosen career as much as any healer’s or soldier’s. We don't treat them like kings or give them concubines.” He was trying to paint over his jealousy with snobbery, but the paint was too thin to be effective in covering his true feelings.

Smiling, you kissed him again, softly, on the lips. “It’s a mortal thing. We’re just a bit more, as you put it, enthusiastic about the people we admire. You should see the kinds of shit they post on Tumblr.”

Looking into your assuring eyes and seeing nothing but sincerity behind them, Loki’s shoulders finally dropped in relief. “Besides, you like U2’s music too,” you added. “I hear you humming With or Without You to yourself occasionally.”

You didn’t expect Loki to blush at your comment. “Oh? I didn’t realize I was loud enough to disturb you.”

Shaking your head, you took Loki’s hand in yours. “I know you’re a fan too, darling. And admit it, you find Bono attractive as I do.”

Loki thought for a moment. “Not in a personal way,” he said slowly. “But were he Asgardian, I can see where he’d…err…have more than a few interested and willing sex partners.”

You decided that was about as much as you’d be able to wring out of him for now. “Would you rather I not go backstage?”

Loki let out a reflexive laugh. “Ha! After the amount of currency I had to surrender for the pass? Norns, you’re going!”

You chuckled, finding Loki’s insecurity a little more ‘cute’ than you should have. “Oh my God,” you answered, caressing Loki’s soft face. “Here you are telling me I’m being silly for swooning over a singer while also pushing me into meeting him. I guess I can’t live with or without you, either.”

--------

@mochie85 @lokisgoodgirl @roruna @holdmytesseract @muddyorbs @xorpsbane @mischief2sarawr @fictive-sl0th @silverfire475

#loki #mcu #mcu loki #fanfiction #loki fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu drabble #drabblefest

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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 1 year

Text

Diasmonia was quiet, a perfect quiet morning if you well. The crows caw softly against the chilly yet welcoming winds. The sun barely peeks out of the soft grey clouds. It was a perfect morning.

A perfect morning mood too for all!

Everyone from the dorm was all in high spirits joy all morning long from Lilia's more cooled and happy melody hums, Malleus eager hop within his footsteps as birds land on his horns chilling, all the way to Silver and Sebek eagerly chatting as they walk to their classes. In all honesty it's really sweet. But also in all honesty it was a weird sight for everyone.

"What got them all chippy?" Asked Ace as he eats some breakfast in the mess hall with his fellow first year school mates. Ortho smiles as he takes out the USB out his mouthing port of his mask, "It's February 14th silly! Big brother has something special plan for Draconia Senpai." Jack look at the smallest of the group with an arched brow, "Video games in the dorm?" Blue fire shakes as Ortho nods no, "Nope. They'll be in Octavinelle at a lovely date."

Royal Sword Academy mummer in their glorious mess hall as many eat and chat away the mornings until classes start as a typical day glooms over them. That is-

"I can't wait for today~!" Chimed Arie as he eats, humming a lovely tune as he does, his hair today done down in a lovely braid with rose petals stuck in the knots. His friend in front of him, Neige, chuckle softly and spoke, "Valentine's Day plans?" The blonde nodded fast and eager with a giggle, "A nice garden date with three of the most beautiful, most perfect, most sexy people in the whole universe and all of Diasmonia for ourselves?" He giggles more as he smiles a doped up grin "How can I not be happy on today of all days??"

The room went in a stunned silence when a arrow hits a wooden beam closest to the table the two were at, making Neige to stand fast to see what it is. Upon looking better, he knows that arrow marking-

Eager and unafraid Neige hurried to the open window and looked down, a smile soon showing on his cute face when he sees his two beautiful lovers upon a beautiful white noble steed one with hos bow in hand while the older holds a large bouquet of red roses and lavender. Rook grins up at his dear prince while his Queen nuzzles the back of his shoulder peacefully, a hand held against his heart as it thumps softly against rib cage with his green eyes sparkling in passion and adornment. "One song, I have but one song. One song, only for you~" He sings blissfully, his cheeks aglow of peace pink. Neige softly swoon as he leaned against the railing as the crowd forms behind him to witness the two Pomfiore students of Night Raven Collage woo the heart of the dearly sweet Fairest Neige LeBlanche. "One heart, tenderly beating, ever entreating, constant and true~" Vil join in as a white dove lands on his hand, giving the feathery head a gentle kiss before it flies up to where the black haired beauty stands in awe. Neige smiles as he catches the bird, freeing the small scroll tucked gentle behind a ribbon against it's foot.

"Our dearest prince amour, As today is a day to celebrate and prove love of all forms we the Dorm Head and Vice Dorm Head of Dorm Pomfiore, Vil Schoeheit and Rook Hunt, invite you to a romantic evening within the gardens of Pomfiore with the finest cuisine and dinner as we dance and enjoy the evening sky painted before us. Sign with plenty love, Your Dearly Beloveds."

Neige smiles more with each line red, he soon brought the dove to his face and gently kiss the beaks so gently and watch the bird flies back down and gently peck both men's cheeks with a coo.

"I can't believe two Night Raven students managed to win over Neige freaking LeBlanche. Lucky bastards." A student mumbled while seeing said star giggle with a blush glow before he disappeared down the hall most likely to try and see the two freely.

Savannaclaw is nice and quiet for once as many of it's students have left to go to separate dorms or in town for the day as per Leona's request of freedom, the scent of cooking meat and sizzle hits the nose as the warm air hugs the flesh and bones of the three people cuddled together in the prince's large bed.

Ruggie soon crawls onto the bed and snuggled right in Leona's chest with a purr and giggle. "Cuddle bug." "Body Pillow." The four stop and look as Epel walks on over with a big tray of something yummy smell with his hair done up in a pony tail and a cute red and orange flannel apron around his small waist with his matching oven gloves on his hands. With a smile the boy placed the tray down showing one half of the tray being freshly cooked meats of wonderful cuts with some sauces in cute little jars and the other three delicious mouth watering smelling apple pies.

Esther nuzzles deeply against Silver's neck, the latter smiling as he nuzzles back, dark and light eyes watching as their little rose thorn and lighting bug dance barefoot on the grass of the dorm's garden. Like how Arie said earlier the day, Diasmonia was completely empty minus the birds and maybe a few other students who are also here, with a nice kitchen meal in thanks of the two knights who are enjoying the night with their lovers.

Arie giggles as Sebek catches them in a dip before leaning up and pecking the green haired male's lip softly, smiling softly as the moon created a halo around behind his head and the stars glimmer within his beautiful green orbs.

Starling walks around Night Raven's large auditorium as the stars shine just above them, a smell of roses and sage filling the air as they looked around.

"I know you, I've walked with you once upon a dream..."

The newer student stops and smiles as the sudden voice echos around them, a gentle wind blowing like an invisible hug.

"I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam... And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem..."

Starling's eyes scan the darkness before feeling cold yet gentle hands carefully feel towards their own from behind, yet they smile calmly and happy for the feel safe in the presence of the gentle deep voice singing. They turned their body to face those hands' owner and met with beautiful cranberry eyes that flutter in a happy gleam of peaceful glimmer, their voice matching back to their serenade master, "But if I know you, I know what you'll do, you'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

The two danced together as Lilia hums the tune as if their own special live band playing a whole score for them and them alone.

"Get the gold get the gold!"

Ortho's fingers moved across his special game controller as he followed Gran's yelling while Hop plays beside him with Dominic helping him in the game. The screen was bright with the room just dimmed enough to show the blue lightening and the star and galaxy hologram above them, snakes of healthy and not so healthy are resting on the bed and floor along with many kinds of shoes, the bed filled with the little Shroud and his boyfriends playing a simple video game of one against the other.

After a few minutes of the three playing Ortho and Gran jumped on the bed giggling and high fiving each other, Timmy, and Toby while Hop, Dominic, Shelpy, and Snick playfully pout with Hop doing a very well act of over-dramatic "death" as he lays against the lightest hair of the seven. "Woe is me Dominic, we have lost again!" Ortho giggles and crawls over, kissing the blonde on the nose and them Dominic on the forehead. "Don't worry, I'm sure you guys can win next time-" Before the cyborg could finish the sentence he got grabbed hugged by Shelpy and Hop who laugh and/or yawn with either happy smooches or tired pecks on his pale cheeks that glow pink as he snorts and giggles.

Riddle walks down the halls of Octavinelle's special restaurant The Mostro Lounge with a small giggle of mischievous glee, red roses in his arms as he walked pass the halls that cover the ways in oceanic beauties. As he walked he caught the appearance of his two childhood best friends and hurried his step before hugging Trey tightly, Chenya joining in as soon as he saw it. The bigger man chuckles, "You seem happy." Riddle pokes his head out his large chest and smiles, a healthy glow among his cheeks, "Yes, I finished all my duties on time and managed to avoid a phone call with my mother." The cat man wrapped his tail around the small red head and purred a giggle as he nuzzled him, their rare hair mixing like a painting, "Sounds like our baby kitty needs a reward~" Riddle blushes hard and tried to scurry back, "No-" but his attempts of running away and denial was stopped when he ran into the third ginger show wraps his arms around his waist from behind, chirping, "No no I think you're right baby~"

Luckily for the dorm leader, the moment was hit paused when a pair of footsteps were heard and the four watched as Malleus and Idia walk along side each other with gentle smiles on their faces. "Happy Valentine evening everyone." Said Malleus, of course in his typical formal fashion while Idia just waved his hand small and said, "Yo." Cater let go of Riddle and ran over to them and gave them each a big and kisses and a handing of small boxes. For Malleus it was a mint ice cream flavored chocolate box, as for Idia it was an assortment of strawberry and normal pockies in beautiful wrappings.

The group walk further down the halls and made it to the restaurant in their path, a large white cloth table covered in fine silverware and shiny plates and rose petals of many colors by candle light and fine deserters and finger-foods waits for them eagerly. They all look at the table, then to each other, and smile before they made their way to their seats with Trey and Cater being the most gentlemen they are usually by pulling Riddle's and Malleus' chairs for them.

After everyone was seated cups of tea started to get poured in their places in thanks of Jade who seemingly appeared out of no one, only pausing to give Trey a sneaky kiss. Floyd appeared with the dishes in hand and like his twin stole a sneaky kiss among Riddle, Cater, Idia, and Chenya. And after everything from favorite drinks filled and favorite dinner dishes served in the finest way possible Azul finally appeared and took a seat in the middle of Idia and Riddle, dressed in a lovely light lavender suit with small flares of each partner's special colors.

Esther and Starling belongs to sweet boo @gay-salt-amber Happy Valentine's day boo!

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