#-blows a kiss to the sky- for Emile | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scenecipriano · 4 years

Text

A Golden Midnight (Tangled Au)

Chapter One: When Will My (Our) Life Begin?

Warnings: Death mentioned, unsympathetic Patton, Unsympathetic Virgil, mildly unsympathetic Roman (He gets better), forced isolation, gaslighting, manipulation.

Relationships: Remile, Future Roceit, Intrulogical, toxic parental Intruality, toxic Prinxiety

(Description TBD cause I got nothing right now XD)

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

Remus was excited, today was a bright day and a hopeful today. It was his eighteenth birthday and this was going to be the day that he finally asked his father to take him to see the floating lights that filled the sky every year on the night of this day!

“Which should I wear, Andy? Green or white?”

He holds up his only tunics for his pet rat to see, he watches as Andy tilts his head before using his tail to point at the green tunic with brown pants.

“Good choice! Oh, I hope father says yes… Don’t give me that look! If I get all of my chores done then he should agree to let me see the lanterns!”

Remus looks down at the piles of blonde hair and the singular black streak that always hung in front of his face when Andy gestured to it with his tail. Right, did he forget to mention that he had piles and piles of hair?

“What about it? I can always brush it, which not like I don’t brush it anyway! Father always brushes it while I sing you know this.”

Andy lets out a disgruntled squeak at the mention of his father, causing Remus to groan.

“I know he can be a bit of a prude, but he means well! You know he only keeps me here for my safety, the first chance anyone gets they’ll try to steal my hair.”

Andy lets out another set of disgruntled squeaks, which Remus chose to ignore as he got dressed in his tunic and pants.

“Enough complaining, let’s get to cleaning, and maybe we can bake a few pies! Ohh or I can work on that little outfit of yours! We’d be matching, won’t that be cool?”

‘He has to say yes… he just has to.’

Roman sighs as he rests his chin on his fist, he hated the tedious process that it took the maids to braid his overly long hair. It took them at least an hour to get it all braided and out of the way, he always got annoyed when the singular blonde streak would always somehow manage to slip free.

“Well well, look at the pretty birthday boy getting his hair done.” Roman couldn’t help the smile that came to his face when his personal servant Janus came into the room.

“If I had it my way, I would get all of this cut-off and have normal hair like my fathers, or at least have it cut to how papa Remy had it before he transitioned, always thought his hair was pretty then, unlike mine.”

Roman never liked his hair, always hating the long ebony locks, well, at one point he didn’t hate his hair, he didn’t grow to hate it until it hurt a royal barber. His parents said that it wasn’t possible for hair to hurt someone, but Roman swears that as soon as the barber brought the sheers close to his hair, a shock sent the man flying and crashing against the wall.

“I think your hair looks lovely, but that could just be because you’re the one wearing it,” Janus says flashing Roman a grin.

The prince felt his face heat up as a goofy grin form on his face.

“My prince, would you like us to try flowers again today?” One of the maids asks as she holds up a basket full of daisies.

Roman wanted to say yes, but he knew that as soon as the flowers were placed within the braid they would die like they always did.

“No, thank you, Tilly. I’ll just wear the braid… besides I need to get going my parents are waiting for me to join the birthday breakfast.”

A breakfast that was always filled with grief because his parents were only worried about his long lost twin, the true heir to the throne. Roman’s hoping after eighteen years, his parents would finally get over their grief and appoint him heir because if they haven’t found his brother yet, they most likely never will.

“Well, I think you could use at least one flower.”

Roman blinks when Janus slips a yellow rose into his braid, Roman waits for the flower to die but it doesn’t. He looks up at Janus in awe.

“How did you-?”

“A certain purple-clad sorcerer owed me a favor.”

Roman couldn’t help the giggle that slipped from his mouth as he allows Janus to help him stand. He huffs softly as he pushes the blonde streak behind his left ear.

“Shall we be going, my prince?”

Roman takes Janus’ hand and holds onto it tight.

‘They’ll have to give me a chance… They just have to.’

“Remus~! Let down your hair, kiddo!”

The newly turned eighteen-year-old perks up, his green eyes sparkling with excitement as he tells Andy to hide. His father would freak and possibly die if he saw a rat in the tower.

“Coming father!” Remus calls as he gathers up his hair.

He throws a hefty strand through the hook on the window sill, a thrilling rush goes through him when he feels his father pulling himself up.

“Honestly, Remus you should move quicker, I don’t have all day to wait.” His father scolds once he’s up in the tower, Remus feels himself deflate a little but perks back up.

“Sorry! But I was wanting to talk to you about some-.”

“Remus, your hair is a mess and I’m feeling a bit weary kiddo, sing for me while I brush it?”

Remus huffs and quickly rushes his father into a chair, dragging over his little stool as he does. He hands his father the hairbrush and a strand of his hair.

“Flowergleamandglowletyourpowersshine-”

“Remus-.” His father tries to interrupt, quickly brushing his son’s hair as the strands start to glow.

“Maketheclockreversebringbackwhatoncewasmine-”

“Remus!”

“Healwhathasbeenhurtchangethefatesdesign-”

Remus couldn’t help the smile that came to his face as his father tried to keep up with his singing.

“Savewhatasbeenlostbringbackwhatoncewasminewhatoncewasmine!”

Patton jumps when the magic from his sons’ hair washes over him, causing his round glasses to go askew on his face. He frowns and narrows his blue eyes at Remus.

“Okay, now that we’re finished I was hoping to ask you something, it’s really important.”

Patton takes a calming breath and offers his son a small smile.

“Go ahead.”

Remus hops up from his stool and rushes over to the curtain that hid the wall he painted. He pulls it aside to show his father mural he painted of himself watching the floating lights.

“For my birthday, I want to see the floating lights. I… I’m eighteen now and I think I’m responsible enough to go out and see them.”

Remus holds his breath in anticipation, he glances over and sees Andy giving him an approved wave of the tail.

“Oh… Remus, you know that’s not possible kiddo… There’s too many thieves out there. Why, if I let you out there in that cruel world and something were to happen to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

Remus feels himself deflate, his smile dropping

“But I…”

“At, no more,” Patton says as he grabs a strand of his son’s hair, looping it through the hook as he does.

He flashes Remus a kind smile and blows him a kiss as he slips down the strand of hair and out of the tower.

“I’ll be back soon, kiddo! Don’t get too lonely without me!”

Remus waves halfheartedly as he watches his father disappear through the curtain of moss that kept them hidden from ruffians. He sighs and sinks down into the floor, his hair piling around him.

The single black streak falls in front of his right eye, he feels Andy scurrying up to his shoulder, he smiles when he feels his tiny friend nuzzle against his cheek.

‘When will my life begin?’

Roman moves his breakfast around on his plate, ignoring his parents discuss the plans of tonight’s lantern release.

“Roman? Is there anything you’d like to contribute this year?” Emile asks.

“Yeah, can this be the last year of this? It’s been eighteen years if my brother hasn’t returned now then he may never will.”

Roman knows it was harsh, but he would like to have his parent’s attention for once. Their actual attention, not their stares of hope wishing that he was Remus instead.

“Roman! You don’t know that your brother could be out there,” Remy scolds.

“Or maybe he’s dead, it’s been eighteen years, papa!”

“Roman, that is enough! If you don’t want to partake in the lantern lighting then just say so, don’t be crude!”

Roman stands from his seat and slams his hands down onto the table.

“It’s my birthday too! But you two only care about the son that isn’t here. If you wish it was me who was taken then just say so.”

Roman nor his parents didn’t notice the green glow that left the young prince’s hands when his parents don’t say anything, Roman huffs and leaves the room, not noticing the flowers wilting on the table.

But a certain purple-eyed sorcerer did.

Roman roughly wipes the tears from his face and pushes the blonde strand of hair behind his left ear.

‘When will my life begin…’

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #emile picani #remy sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #unsympathetic patton #virgil sanders mentioned #implied unsympathetic virgil #gaslighting #forced isolation #manipulation #mildly unsympathetic roman #implied roceit #remile

27 notes · View notes

liluwrites · 4 years

Text

Auld Lang Syne

Three couples ring in the New Year. (DenNor, SuFin, HongIce) (2k)

Lukas turns his marshmallow slowly over the fire, and watches the sides burn golden.

Beside him, Matthias curses under his breath as his own marshmallow melts off the stick and falls into the fire. “Oh no,” he says as it disintegrates amongst the flames. “That was my last one.”

Lukas laughs quietly. “Here, you idiot. You can have mine.” He extends the stick and Matthias bites clumsily at it. “Good?”

“Mmm. Positively orgasmic.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Never say that again.”

“Why not?” He presses his face close to Lukas’ and presses tiny kisses along his jawline. “Am I embarrassing you?”

Blushing, Lukas pushes him away. “No, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Aww. You’re so mean to me.”

Still grinning, Matthias turns back to the fire. Lukas watches him; the way his face is lit golden by the firelight, the amber flames dancing in his eyes, the sparks floating around him like winter fireflies. His love for Matthias hits him like a freight train – a sudden blow to the chest that leaves him reeling and breathless.

“Hey…” He says. It’s quiet, so quiet he thinks Matthias might not have heard, but of course he has.

“Yes?” He turns to him, his face aglow, and Lukas struggles to find his voice.

“I…I know I don’t say this a lot, not as much as I should, not as much as I want to, but…” he stares into the flickering flames. “I just…I love you a lot. I want you to know that.”

“Oh, Lukas…”

“Wait. Wait, I’m not finished.” He takes a deep breath. “You’re just…you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. So many people have given up on me, but you haven’t - you’ve never doubted me, even when I’ve given you so little in return – “

“Lukas – “

“And I want to say I’m sorry, and thank you. I never thought I would end up with someone like you, someone I could love so deeply with my whole heart, but then you showed up and – I love you. So, so much.”

He lowers his head, shy and nervous and fearing with every second the silence lasts that Matthias is going to laugh, that he doesn’t feel the same. Then, he hears a quiet sniffle, and a moment later, Matthias’ arms are around him.

“Lukas, you’ve given me so much. I love you the way you are. I can feel your love for me every day in the little things – the way you make treats for me just because you want to, when you let me talk to you about things you don’t know about because you know how important it is to me, the way you’ll cuddle with me in bed and give me little kisses, and keep kissing my hair even when you think I’m asleep. The way you gave me your marshmallow, even though they’re your favourite sweet! Never, ever apologise for the way you love me.”

Lukas can feel the tears prickling at his eyes, and he presses his face into Matthias’ jacket and clutches him so tightly he feels like his heart could burst. Matthias clings to him, kisses the top of his head and breathes him in deeply.

In the distance, a church bell chimes.

Matthias lifts his head. “That’s it. That’s the new year.”

Lukas wipes his eyes and smiles at him. “I’m glad I’m spending it here, with you.”

“Me, too.” Matthias’ arm tightens around him, and he leans into the embrace as, in the city below them, the first fireworks shoot into the sky.

Tino smiles as he watches his children run shrieking around the yard.

It’s almost midnight, and usually he would have sent them to bed hours ago, after a story and a kiss on the forehead – but tonight is New Year’s Eve, the end of a decade, and everything is different. He has laid out a blanket on the grass so the family can all sit together and watch the nearby fireworks display.

“Ahh! Papa, no, stop!” Peter falls to the ground squealing as Berwald tickles him, growling like a bear. “Erland, help me!”

Erland leaps onto Berwald’s back in counterattack, and Berwald shakes him off and starts to tickle him as well. Hana runs around them in erratic circles, yapping excitedly.

Tino smiles at the sight of his husband and children playing – even after their ten years of marriage, he has never once regretted his decision. He and Berwald have their quarrels, but he could never love another person the way he loves Berwald, and they’ve raised a perfect family together; two adorable, happy young sons and and a dog, all in a sweet suburban house with a good school nearby.

As a teenager, he never thought he’d make it this far – but he has, and every year, he is always so, so thankful for the way his life has turned out.

“Papa, look, look! Fireworks!” Both children cease their game and crowd at the fence to see the fireworks shoot into the sky and shimmer back down to earth. Tino watches them too, entranced, until an arm falls around his shoulders.

“Hey,” Berwald says.

“Hi.” Tino raises into the tips of his toes to kiss his husband on the lips. He pouts. “Why are you so tall?”

“Why are you so small?” Berwald gives him the tiny, playful smirk he has grown to love.

“So I can do this!” He jumps into Berwald’s arms, wrapping his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist. Berwald catches him easily and holds him close, lowering his chin so their noses brush and their eyes connect. “I can kiss you better up here.”

“Oh, really?” Berwald’s eyes, darkened in the twilight, are sparkling with mischief.

“Yes.” He connects their lips briefly, then pulls away. “See?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Mm-hm,” Tino mimics, and kisses him again.

He feels Berwald smile against his lips, then the next moment, he is being spun in the air. Tino squeals and clings to him tightly. “Ahh, what are you doing?”

Berwald doesn’t answer, just spins him even faster. When he finally stops, Tino can feel his chest rising and falling from exertion, and the world is a multicolour blur of Christmas lights and fireworks. Tino gently hits a fist against Berwald’s chest. “You’re crazy,” he laughs breathlessly. “You know that?”

Berwald meets his eyes intensely. “I’m crazy about you.”

From the park beyond the fence, the crowd begins chanting. Five…four…three…two…one…

The joyous whistles and cheers erupt – and a moment later, Erland and Peter come barrelling into them, Hana yapping at their ankles. Berwald stumbles and releases Tino onto his feet. He stays in Berwald’s embrace, but opens his arms wide enough that their children can join.

Tino gazes around at his little family in the moonlight, and his heart is full.

III

Emil cringes as another body pushes past him. The Main Street is swarming with people waiting excitedly to ring in the new year, their bodies packed so closely it’s almost impossible to move past. But Leon’s grip on his hand is firm, pulling him steadily onwards through the crowd, and he clings to it like a lifeline.

“Not far now,” Leon calls over his shoulder. “It’s worth it, you’ll see.”

Usually, Emil would be at home on New Year’s Eve, drinking sparkling cider and watching the ball drop on television. But this year, when his boyfriend had messaged him asking to meet at the marketplace before midnight, he had accepted immediately.

He doesn’t like crowds, or noise, or being out after dark – but it’s worth it to spend time with Leon.

Finally, they reach the bridge, and Leon pulls him aside against the railings. The crowd is thinner here, and they finally have enough space to breathe and look each other in the eye.

“Hey,” Leon says, his eyes glittering golden-brown in the lamplight.

Emil can’t help but smile. “Hi.” He blushes. “I missed you.”

Leon laughs and wraps a warm arm around him. “It’s not been that long! I saw you on Christmas Eve.”

“Too long.”

“You’re adorable.” Leon pinches his cheek. “You’re the cutest boyfriend ever.”

Emil buries his face in Leon’s chest, embarrassed. “M’not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, you are.”

“No, you.”

“No – “ Leon ducks his head and silences him with a kiss. Emil closes his eyes and presses closer, deepens the kiss, and Leon responds with equal pressure – and the world shrinks to just the two of them, the warmth of their bodies pressed together and the electricity of their embrace.

Suddenly, a ripple of excitement runs through the crowd. Emil draws back, slightly dazed, and looks around. “What’s happening?”

Leon looks at his watch. “It’s almost time. Ten seconds.”

As if on cue, the crowd begins the countdown in unison. Emil catches Leon’s eye, sees the sparkle of anticipation, and they join in, their voices carried away by the energy of the people around them. In that moment, Emil suddenly feels a strange connection to all these people; all these strangers with whom he has nothing in common, except that they’re all moving into the new year, the new decade, together.

“Three…two…one…”

The moment the bell chimes, Emil feels Leon’s arm fling around his shoulders and the click of his phone camera. It’s so unexpected, he doesn’t have time to put on his usual shy scowl for the camera – instead, Leon captures him in his raw happiness, grinning and laughing in the first second of the new year.

As the crowd begins to scatter around them, Leon lowers his phone and shows Emil the photograph.

Behind them, the dark river glows with the reflections of fireworks bursting above it, and their faces are lit golden by the lights around them. They’re both grinning, faces pressed close together, eyes scrunched up with pure unfiltered joy.

Emil blinks. He’s always thought he was ugly in photographs, so it’s strange to see himself looking so radiant; but it’s strange in a good way, he thinks. It’s like a new version of himself, a version he hasn’t met yet.

“Do you like it?” Leon asks.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I do. Can you send it to me?”

“Sure.”

Leon types on his screen, and, a second later, Emil’s phone lights up. He taps in his passcode and clicks on the message, and smiles as the photograph fills his screen – their joyful, glowing faces, alight with the promise of a new start.

His eyes travel to the bottom of the picture, where Leon has added a simple caption:

Happy New Year!

#happy new year!!!🎉#aph norway #aph denmark #dennor #aph sweden #aph finland #sufin #aph iceland #aph hong kong #hongice #liluwrites #❤️

90 notes · View notes

queercode-my-minecraft · 5 years

Text

The Petals Rained Down

Springtime. When the flowers bloom and the trees turn pink and the world seems to come back to life after the long winter. Baby animals were born and petals rained down from the sky, covering the streets, which had once been blanketed with white, with a pastel rose.

It would have been Emile’s favorite time of year if not for his gosh darn allergies.

He complained about this on the walk home from the library, sniffing and rubbing his bright pink nose, to his brother Logan, whose face was hidden behind the stack of novels he had just checked out. Logan, who was older than Emile but shorter by a good five inches, had not inherited their mother’s allergies, and Emile was incredibly jealous.

“You are aware that allergy medicine would do wonders for you, correct?” Logan stated, as he had been stating it for most of their lives.

“Yes, Logy, but medicine makes me sick,” came the same reply Emile had been using for years.

Logan muttered something medical, which Emile ignored in favor of hopping up the steps to their house and unlocking the door.

He went inside, not before checking to make sure Logan didn’t trip, and put down his own, smaller stack of books.

Logan had safely made it inside, nose already deep into the book off of the top of his pile. Emile smiled fondly and gently guided Logan to the couch.

He walked into his room and took off his tan sweater and favorite pink tie, changing his white work shirt for a short-sleeved one with pink roses on it. He switched his black dress pants for blue jeans, tugged on white sneakers, and danced into the hallway as there was a knocking on the door. He sneezed as he opened the door to see a tall man in a leather jacket, wearing sunglasses and holding a motorcycle helmet and two Starbucks drinks.

“Remy!” Emile said, hugging him around the neck and grinning.

“Easy, babes,” Remy laughed, “you’re going to make me spill my Starbies!”

Emile let go of him to rub his nose, a couple of blossom petals blowing into the house. The petals, he realized, were also stuck in Remy’s dark brown hair.

Remy chewed on his lip, looking a little concerned. “Allergies?”

“As always,” Emile sighed. “I’ll be fine, though.”

“If you say so, gurl,” said Remy, then took his hand and led him to the motorcycle.

Emile pushed Remy’s helmet over his strawberry blond curls and accepted the drinks, pushing the visor up to sip from his unicorn frappuccino.

“All aboard, cute shirt,” Remy smirked, patting the end of the seat behind him. Emile giggled and sat down, wrapping his arms around Remy’s chest and unwittingly squeezing him when the motor started up.

Remy chuckled at his boyfriend but wasn’t expecting him to repeatedly almost fall off of the motorcycle with the force of his sneezes as they drove. Petals rained down on them, and Emile was clearly suffering, even if his sneezes were the most adorable thing in the world…

Remy stopped on the side of the road, and Emile looked up at him guiltily.

“Babes, can you make it to the restaurant?” Remy asked concernedly.

Emile bit his lip. “Well… we could just eat at my house…”

Remy grinned, brushing off his disappointment at their date being muddled. “Movie?”

“Movie,” Emile agreed, and Remy whirled the motorcycle around so fast that Emile made a muffled screaming noise.

No more than twenty minutes later, they were comfortably full and Remy had dozed off with his arms around Emile. Emile turned his head up, trying to kiss Remy’s cheek, but all he could reach was his chin. That had to do, Emile decided and turned back to the movie…

...but not before sneezing.

Sam: agdshahavsvshwa oh my gosh, this is adorable, so hecking adorable and sweet! Thank you so much!! <333

#emile picani #remy sanders #remile #logan sanders #sam answers #this ks absoloutly the most adorable thing ever #i was squealing on the train as i read this #luckily there was no one that actually cared but !!!!!!!!#cute cute cute cute cute cute #submission

20 notes · View notes

writing-ro · 5 years

Text

Fictober 19-7: “No, and that is final.”

@fictober-event // Set in a Multi-fandom Fantasy AU where most if not all kinds of fantasy creatures exist alongside humans, though the two cultures stay fairly separate, with many humans being afraid or prejudice against creatures.

Rating: T Fandom: Dragon Age, Characters: Analei Amell (OFC), Aristide Amell, Ships: Analei Amell/Leliana (mentioned) Additional Tags: Secret Relationship Discovered, Disapproving Relatives, Aristide Amell is a Dick,

It was never a good thing to be called to Great-Uncle Aristide’s office. At least, it never was when Rodrick was sent to collect you. It was a system, Rickon was sent if Great-Uncle had good news or was in a good mood, Rodrick if it was bad. The brothers were identical twins, so those outside the estate had no idea of this little cue, but the family and long term servants had learned the subtle differences between the pair.

So, when Rodrick entered the library and told Analei to follow, to say she was nervous was an understatement. Entering, she found not only Aristide, but her grandfather Fausten, standing by the fireplace while her uncle worked at the desk. This did not bode well, but she kept those thoughts to herself and off her face.

“You wished to see me, Uncle?”

Aristide looked up from his papers and nodded. He had the Amell’s traditional blue eyes, a trait that had missed her, and while his hairline was receding, it still had more pepper than salt to it. Her own grandfather was similar, but the affair of Uncle Damion’s near imprisonment and later claiming during the Tribute Festival had left his hair all salt.

“Yes,” Aristide said, signing his signature on a document and setting his quill in it’s holder. “Have a seat please, Analei.”

Analei did, her nerves spiking higher. Politeness, another sign of trouble. She found herself reviewing her behavior over the last few weeks, trying to find any actions her uncle would not approve of.

Aristide’s voice cut through her thoughts. “You have been taking several trips out of the city recently.”

Her heart leapt into her throat, but she did her best to speak around it, willing her face to not pale. “I collect potion ingredients, you should know fresh ones are the best to have.”

“Yet you spend little time making any potions, and I’ve spoken with a few of our potioneers, they say they’ve only rarely seen you delivering herbs for them.”

Shite. How to get out of this? “I don’t give them to the Amell potioneers, I pass them on to a few of the Lowtown sellers. They rarely have time to collect any for themselves, and can’t afford to hire-”

Aristide slammed his hand onto the desk, making her jump and almost bite her tongue. “Cease your lying, Analei. I know the real reason for your visits, about that siren.”

Analei drew in a harsh breath, and bowed her head. “I’m sorry, Uncle.”

“Are you truly?” Aristide stood and looked to the door. Analei fought the urge to see who he was looking at. “Send him in.”

The door opened and she could hear a sharp inhale behind her. One she was very familiar with.

“Jakob, come here,” Aristide said, and Analei’s little brother walked up to the desk, his nerves as visible as the Amell crest on his jerkin. “Tell Analei about your venture out of the city yesterday.”

Jakob took another deep breath and turned so he wasn’t looking directly at either Aristide or Analei. “I was returning from a morning hunt with Mattias and Johann when I spotted Analei on her horse Ilya. I was curious as to what she was up to, so I sent Mattias and Johann on with the excuse of a stone in Donver’s shoe, then rode after her. She rode into the woods for a ways, then tied Ilya to a tree branch and continued on foot with a basket. I followed and heard her call out a name, before a sky siren swooped down and knocked her to the ground. I was about to draw my bow and charge in to attack when I heard laughter instead of screams. I got closer and saw Analei laying on top of the siren, talking. I couldn’t hear what was said, but I saw Analei and the siren kiss, several times, before Analei went to untie the laces of the siren’s dress. I left then and rode home.”

Aristide nodded. “Thank you, Jakob. You may leave now.”

Jakob did, with a short bow to their uncle and without even looking at Analei. He felt guilty, she knew. He always avoided catching the gazes of any he felt he had done a disservice, even as minor as a careless comment shared in private. This certainly explained why he had also avoid her gaze the night before -- she had assumed it was something much more minor and dismissed it.

“After Jakob told me what he’d seen, I sent Eddard to verify his claim,” Aristide said. “He told me he saw you and the siren, bare as your namedays, in a clearing clearly inhabited by the creature. He kept watch until you prepared to leave, and reported everything to me upon his return.” He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk. “Does this sound accurate to you, Analei?”

She was found out. More so, Leliana was found out. Analei had to do damage control. “Uncle, I can explain-”

“No excuses!” Aristide sliced a hand through the air. “Do you know how many plans you have nearly disrupted? I had hoped this was simply an enchantment, but Lianne said the disenchantment potion she slipped in your tea had no effect.”

Another puzzle piece slipped into place in her mind. Lianne had a hobby of tea making, and her siblings were the first test subjects of any new blends she made. Analei had thought something tasted off about her first cup that evening, but had assumed the tea just needed more time to steep than usual.

“After Leandra broke her engagement with Guillaume, it was incredibly hard to get the de Launcets to agree to another betrothal between our houses, let alone for you with their heir. As well, Adria’s own engagement with Saemus Dumar is yet to be confirmed, for all they seem to like each other.” That was an understatement -- a blind man could see how smitten Adria and the Viscount’s son were. “House Amell stands on a precipice. With Damion’s scandal, it will only take one more straw before our family falls from grace. I will not allow you to destroy what our family stands for for some creature-”

“Leliana,” Analei half-whispered the name, like a prayer, but it stopped Aristide in his tracks.

“What did you say, Analei?” Fausten said, finally stepping away from the fireplace.

“Her name is Leliana.” Analei looked up. “We met at the Tribute Festival a few years ago, after she stopped up a bar fight with her song and I separated the fighters before the spell could wear off. She and I kept meeting in the markets, and then eventually at her home as we became friends, and then yes, lovers. Never once has she ever used her enchantment on me -- she can’t!”

“And why ‘can’t’ she?” Aristide asked.

“Because it’s impossible for a siren to enchant their true mate. She knew what I was from the night we met, but she never pressured me on it. Never even tried to kiss me until long after I had fallen in love with her.”

“You can not love a creature,” Aristide said. “It would be worse than loving a dog. They do not understand the word.”

“Of course they understand it,” Analei argued, rising to her feet. Her eyes flashing as she felt her magic starting to stir under her skin. “They can love and laugh and cry and hate just as much as any human. More than some humans, even.” That last was a low blow, but in truth, she had many years of anger at the man finally rising to the surface. If she let it, her magic would lash out to hurt him in some way, some payback for years of having to dance to his tune. “Leliana has seen every part of me, and I have seen every part of her. We are mates in all but ceremony, and my wish was to ask for my family’s blessing before going through with it.”

Aristide sneered. “Did you really think I would ever give my permission - let alone my blessing - for you to marry a creature?”

“I said my family, not my relatives.”

Fausten frowned and looked between her and Aristide, before turning back to the fire. A clear sign, no matter what happened, he would have no part of it. Aristide, meanwhile, looked like he’d been slapped, and it only made him angrier.

“Very well. You leave me no choice then.”

Before Analei could ask about what, her arms were grabbed and something closed around her wrists. Instantly, she felt her magic drain away, and she almost fell back into her chair before she steadied herself, looking from her sides, where Rickon and Rodrick held her, and her wrists. Silver cuffs five inches long were closed around her arms, and before her eyes, the lock melted into the metal. Runes of magic suppression covered it, as well as one to prevent injury from the cuffs themselves.

“Escort Analei to her room. As of now, she is only to be allowed out for mealtimes, and a guard must stand at her door and two at her window. Inform Eddard I have a task for him and his best hunters to complete.

Horror struck through Analei, and she lunged forward, only held back by the brothers, who started to pull her back to the door. “No, please, Uncle, you can’t!”

“A creature has enchanted my grand-niece, I am in my full rights to order them exterminated to break the spell.”

“Please, don’t hurt her. I’ll do anything.” Analei dropped to her knees, and while it caught the brothers off guard, they didn’t free her. “I’ll marry Emile, I’ll bear his children, I’ll never leave Hightown again. Just please don’t hurt her.”

“It is too late for promises I already intend to keep, Analei.” Aristide looked at her like she was something particularly nasty he stepped in. Fausten hadn’t looked at her at all.

“Grandfather, please!” Analei wasn’t entirely sure what she was pleading for, but aside from a slight twitch of his shoulders, he did not react to it. Tears started to fall and she turned one last time to her uncle. “Please, please Uncle, reconsider.”

“No. That is my final word.” Aristide sat down, picking up his quill and returning to his documents, as if none of the past quarter-hour had happened.

Rickon and Rodrick hauled her to her feet and finished pulling her from the room. Analei hung her head the whole way to her room, and when the door was locked behind her, she threw herself onto the bed, her sobs soaking the air and her pillow.

#fictober19 #Fictober Fantasy AU #fictober #fandom: dragon age #oc: Analei Amell #char: Aristide Amell

7 notes · View notes

amazable01 · 5 years

Text

And The Puppets Danced- Chapter 4

AO3 Link here

I awake to the sound of fire nearby. Light streams in from a nearby window, and I sit up. Looking over, I see Patton surrounded in a halo of sunlight, his hair shimmering. I feel an involuntary smile as I run a hand through those shimmering locks. Flecks of dirt cover us both.

Right, the fall… My mind processes. So… where are we now…?

“That was some fall, huh?”

I jolt, turning to my side, hand going to Patton’s arm.

The man I now see holds his hands up. “WOAH, there. Steady now, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Who are you?” I ask, pulling Patton closer in fear.

“Name’s Remy Clarke.” He says, voice slightly softer. “You two fell from the cliff face from the back of our pasture. My husband and I couldn’t leave you out there when you needed help, so we brought you back here.” He leans against a wall. “You two came from the mountain?”

I nod, pulling Patton into my lap.

He whistles. “Thought anything up there was dead. Guess it was just a tale to keep stupid and reckless kids like me from trying to scale the damned thing.” He sighs. “Who’re you two?”

I blink, before sighing softly. “I’m Logan, and this is Patton. He’s my… other half.”

The corner of Remy’s mouth lifts a bit. “That’s sweet.”

I look at Patton, shaking a bit. “Will… will he be alright…?”

Remy nods. “If you were, I’m sure he will be.”

I finally get a good look at Remy as he goes to tend the fire. His hair has an auburn tint, commenting his sun-kissed skin well. He doesn’t have freckles, like Patton does, and his natural blush is less concentrated. His stature is more muscular than either of us, and his walk has a lot more personality than either of ours.

“Hey, you still with me, Specs?”

I fluster slightly. “Apologies, I must’ve gotten lost in my own head. Were you saying something?”

He nods. “I was asking how many people live up there with you?”

I ponder this for a moment. “If I am remembering correctly, I believe a hundred or so? Excluding Patton and our king, of course.”

He blinks. “Wow. When our ancestors migrated down here, they did it because apparently there wasn’t enough left to survive, but I guess that wasn’t as true as we thought…”

I bite my lip. “We adapted a bit to it all.”

He nods, going to stoke the fire softly.

I look around the cozy cabin. The walls are stone and wood, with some ivy climbing up the beams. Flower boxes lie in all the small, open windows, with some vegetables growing within them. Herbs are drying from the ceiling, and bottles of different spices and crystals sit in glass jars. Shelves upon shelves of dried goods lay against one wall, near a small table. The fireplace has a few miscellaneous glass jars and ceramic bowls sitting on the mantle, as well as some small candles and incense burners that were all burning.

Remy hums softly, taking a jar of amber stones, and heading outside.

I sit up, moving Patton over slightly so as to look around the home more closely. The jars are labelled, anything from amethyst to alexandrite, and even some small diamonds and pearls.

Remy comes back in, smiling. “Good to see you up on your feet! Em was worried you might not get back up after that fall.” He moves to a drawer, pulling out a tightly bound bundle. He goes to the fire, beckoning me to join him. “I need some help to cleanse the house, as well as to help cleanse Patton’s spirit a bit. The restlessness in you two has been worrying me.”

I nod, watching as he lights the end of the bundle, watching as the fire goes out. He blows on it a bit to release smoke, before walking around the small one room house. I follow, trying to hear what he’s mumbling, only to fail.

He does this a few times, before carefully putting the bundle out in a bowl of clay. “Now, some incense to promote healing, and to help cleanse all these bad vibes.” He goes around, lighting a few new incense sticks here and there.

“There we are! A good place for healing and positivity, as it should be!”

I blink, confused as to what actually happened, but I leave it. “So, Remy, what’s your profession?”

“Me?” He asks. “Well, I’m a royal beastmaster. I only work every three days since we all have shifts, so I spend quite a bit of time working on my other practices.” He goes over to a cauldron on the fire, sprinkling a multicolored mixture that’s simply labelled ‘salt’ into whatever he’s making. “What do you do?”

What do I do…? I ponder for a moment. “I… am a scholar. And both Patton and I work as performers, as well.”

He grins. “That sounds like an interesting life! You MUST perform for Emile and I, some day!”

I feel the corner of my lips perk up ever-so-slightly. “Yeah… Maybe we will…”

Tag List:

@cloudchaser7 @lightning-skys @fantazyiskey @moonstone-fox @ierindoodles @altruistic-skittles @residentanchor @khadij-al-kubra @fluidityandgiggles @prinxiety-an-chocolate @thats-so-crash @another-sandersidesblog @uwillneverknowwho @i-will-physically-fight-you @sanderslays @pathos-logical @pattonly-anxious @3milystuff @wolfie-kinz @imsoselfdepricating @moonshine-the-not-so-secret-emo @dedaartist @demonvirgil @tellmehowtoexist @pandagirl0730 @imasmallchild @virgil-sxnders @squidthesyd1174 @jemthebookworm @purplesoul-at-hogwarts @changeling-ash @kaileah-kat @zeze-queen @xxfoxit @indanegalaxy @astral-eclipse

31 notes · View notes

ellipsesarefun · 7 years

Link

Emil Nekola & Otabek Altin

Implied Character Death

“They would not listen, they’re not listening still… Perhaps they never will..”

The pasture is clear tonight, with the breeze blowing in soft whispers, sharing secrets with the dancing grass. Emil sees nothing beyond the horizon but twinkling dots from above. The lilt conversation of nature reaches him, and his skin tingles from the chilly air as his footfalls crunch against the verdant ground below him. From his periphery, Otabek walks with a guitar strapped on his shoulder, pace more languid and face seemingly blending with evening landscape.

They both sit at the center, watching the still life picture with wordless thoughts jumping around their minds and out to the twinkling canvas above. Otabek plants his guitar on his lap and plucks a chord, a familiar tune that matches nature’s whispers. Emil follows, voice reverberating with the strum and the wind in melancholic symphony.

“Did you know that the stars we’re looking right now were the stars that once lived billions and billions of years ago?” Emil asked once, a few years back on a night like this. He remembers a sigh beside him and the crickets chirping back yet never understanding human language.

“Sometimes, when I look at the sky, maybe if I could just squint, I could maybe find something from the past.” He continued, “If I reach far enough, if I just stretch my hand as far as I could, maybe.. maybe…”

Nothing comes after but another sigh from Otabek. Emil now recalls his friend’s question in that contemplative frown and realizes he hasn’t said anything yet, hasn’t provided any answer to his wandering thoughts.

A moment after, he asked,

“Do you think, if people saw each others past, or maybe the present or their future, or maybe themselves as a whole, would they have understood other people a lot more? Would they have respected each other more or less? Would they have gone their way to be more nicer, more empathic for everyone else?”

The creases in Otabek’s eyebrows grew. Emil did not know if he had upset him then, but the thought dies when the dark glaze in his eyes mirrored his own. Their gazes lingered on each other for another intermission of cricket chirps before Otabek set his vision back at the sky. Emil’s eyes followed.

“…I don’t know.” Otabek finally replied. It was an answer that still dissatisfies his pondering thoughts even to this day, but an answer nonetheless, “Maybe they would.. but sometimes maybe they don’t.. but we can never force empathy on anyone.. That, I know.”

Now as the music reaches the chorus, Emil reaches up and he swears he sees his mother’s smile and he fists his hand, as if he could grasp those honey sweet memories, but there was only air, her blood in his hands and her head on crumpled paper stained in crimson. His vision blurs and liquid trails down his cheeks, dripping on his shirt.

“Now I think I know, what you tried to say to me,” He sang, words crooked from his waterworks, “And how you suffered for your sanity… And how you tried to set them free..” The wind howled. It kissed his face, just as his mother kissed him after she tucked him to bed.

He closed his eyes, the image in his head a visage of his mothers cerulean irises, her soft, flowing ash blonde hair, and that endearing smile that shined his worries away. She had him engulfed in her warmth, softly mumbling the highlights of her day. His mind replays her favorite tunes, her excitement over her next novel to be published, and that little chest filled of post-it notes she stuck to his bed post before she left for work. The last image stops on the day they sat gazing at the stars, pointing at made-up constellations and telling tales of the old.

“They would not listen, they’re not listening still… Perhaps they never will..” Emil finished, leaving only the last quiet strum from the guitar. The wind softened its whispers, and the crickets chirped louder as the image in his mind bleeds as bright as the stars above.

#yoimusicweek #yoimusicweek2017 #day 2 #1970 #Emil Nekola #Otabek Altin #EmiBek friendship #I don't know what the fuck I just wrote #yoi #impromptu #ellipsesarefun writes

11 notes · View notes

nightmaretyrantvantas · 7 years

Text

You never have to fight alone anymore- another Hetalia au/fan fiction short story

//the story is in Ada’s p.o.v//

Pain. Pain and cold was all I could feel. I had blocked out their hateful words and sneers by this point, too focused on trying to protect my face from their kicks and blows. How these four punk managed to still recognize me after eleven years I’ll never know. “ Stupid little streetrat! Think you’re better than us now huh?!” I risked opening one eye and all I could still was solid grey sky ready to drop more snow and then their towering, leering faces. I just wanted to go buy a surprise present for my mother….why did my past have to catch up to me now… One of the boys, they were nothing but nameless, faceless figures at this point, kicked me hard in the head and a loud buzzing filled my head. Their words began to muffle, like there was cotton in my ears and my vision got all fuzzy around the edges. My body was slowly going numb from laying in the snow for so long. My father’s viking training lazily floated through my mind. I should be able to beat these loser….I should be able to….on my own… I shut my eyes tight when I saw the blurry outline of a foot over my face. “HEY!! LEAVE OUR COUSIN ALONE!!!!” There was the pounding of muffled footsteps running past me, and shouts of pain and anger. I forced myself to sit up shakily on one elbow and my eyes widened. “S-shen….A-abel….” My words were slurred from the pain. Standing in front of me protectively, fists at the ready were Shen and Abel. Under his winter coat I could see When’s traditional Chinese top poking out of the sleeves and some blood already on his fists. And there was Abel right beside him, towering over us both even for a sixteen year old and his pale hair dusted with white snow. “ get out of h’re b'fore we really teach you a lesson.” I barely heard Abel growl, his accent thickening with the words. One of the boys sneered and the two didn’t hesitate to fight back for me. I struggled to get up more and one of the kicked me down. “GET AWAY FROM MY LITTLE SISTER!!” I heard Emil shout before the boy was kicked away from me and Iceland was kneeling next to me, asking me questions too fast to process. “ yeah that’s right! Run you stupid jerks!” I looked up just in time to see a decent sized rock hit one of the retreating boys in the back of the head, Sealand already having another one ready to throw. Once my attackers were gone they all crowded around me worried. I tried telling them I was fine, that I could’ve handled it, but Iceland shushed me as he helped support me sitting up. “ You aren’t alone anymore Ada. You never have to fight alone anymore. You have us.” I bit my lip to force back the tears and shuffled, nodding. “Ok….big brother.” He smiled a little and with Abel’s help got me to my feet. “ here ada!” I looked down as peter held out a handkerchief smiling, my shopping bag now held protectively in his other hand. I smiled weakly and took it, holding it to the spot I got kicked in the head carefully. “ heh….t-thanks peter” he smiled and I relaxed, feeling completely and utterly safe, just like I did when father first found me….

It took awhile but we managed to make it back to the house before dark. Abel ended up piggybacking me there….even though I protested I could walk just fine…he and Iceland outnumbered me in the “ like hell you’re fine, you’re being carried” argument we had. When we walked inside I saw mother pacing the living room floor. “M-mama….” His head whipped to me as Abel set me down. Mother rushed to me and grabbed my face as he looked over my injuries. “Ada! Oh baby girl what the hell happened?! Oh gods you’re bleeding! Oh shhh shh don’t cry its ok…” He wiped away the tears I didn’t realize began falling as my knees buckled. I was cold, sore, and exhausted and I just couldn’t stop myself from crying. Mother helped me to the couch and sat me down while the others explained what happened. My mother let out one of the filthiest string of insults in Norwegian I had ever heard before as he patched up my injuries. Once I was patched up he hugged me tightly and ran his hands through my hair like he always did when I was upset when I was little and I all but melted in his arms. It was kinda like hugging uncle Tino or dad, warm, protective and made me feel safe and untouchable. After awhile Abel and Peter left to head back home and big brother Iceland and Shen had volunteered to make dinner tonight so I laid on the couch while mother told father what happened up in their room. I laid on my side and shivered , sneezing a few moments after. I shakily rubbed my nose and had to cover my mouth as I broke into a coughing fit. Oh great…. “ Uh-oh. Sounds like my little viking caught a cold out there.” I looked up right as father knelt next to my head, gently ruffling my hair. “P-papa….i-im sorry I couldn’t win….” He gave me a gently stern look and patted my head. “ you don’t have to apologize ada baby. You never have to fight alone anymore. You’re apart of our family now, and we’ll protect you.” He kissed my forehead and and smiled at me, making me smile back. Then I completely ruined the touching moment by sneezing. “ haha. Cmon my little warrior, let’s get you tucked into bed and you’re temperature checked.” I nodded and he scooped me up like I was little again and carried me up the stairs towards my room. I nuzzled into his warmth and felt my eyes get heavier and heavier until I drifted off to sleep in the safety of my father’s arms…. End.

Ok!! I got a second short story out! Tell me what you think, if you like it, and any advice you have for me!

#hetalia #dennor #iceland #denmark #norway #sealand #ocs #another nordic story #these are kinda fun to do!#nordic family

4 notes · View notes